Christmas Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Holiday Fling

by Reed, Kristabel

  Laura smiled gratefully up at him, but only met his gaze for a beat. Did she see softness in that deep blue? Or was she reading too much into it? One of these days, she was going to think before she spoke around Tyler Kamari.

  “Merry Christmas, Tyler,” she said and pushed all thoughts of love, her feelings, the fact she might just love him, and anything not Christmas related to the back of her mind.

  He grinned and ripped the paper off, and Laura laughed delightedly. He opened the shipping box and stopped. Laura’s heart stopped, too. Oh. What if he didn’t like it? She’d originally had it commissioned for herself, but in the whirlwind of these last two weeks, she’d thought it the perfect gift for him.

  The replica of The Gideon Vermont sat on a sturdy wooden base beneath a glass dome. It was perfect, right down to the trees lining the sleigh ride path. She supposed she’d need to have the skating rink fixed, but considered that minor.

  Tyler looked up at her, his face unreadable. With careful hands, he lifted the glass dome and knelt on the floor to get a better look. His fingers traced each angle and curve, and Laura was forcibly reminded of how those fingers traced her curves.

  The plaque at the bottom read: “Architectural design by Tyler Kamari.”

  “When did you have time to do this?” he asked in a rough voice. Looking up at her, she realized that what she’d assumed was indifference was really awe. “My God, it’s beautiful.”

  Nervously running the tie to her robe through her fingers, Laura answered honestly, “I originally had this commissioned for myself.” She smiled. “This is my first major project, after all. But then I thought it’d make a perfect gift for you.”

  She scooted closer and said softer, “It was a local guy who did it, and he did such a great job. He even got the stained glass detail on the third floor right.”

  Tyler turned on his knees and cupped her face. “I absolutely love it.” He kissed her. “Thank you, Laura.”

  He kissed her again, a slow movement of his lips on hers. She ran her fingers over his scalp and kissed him back. Before she was ready for it to be over, Tyler pulled back.

  “This might seem impulsive,” he said, and the look in his gaze took her breath away. “It might even seem a little crazy. But I want you to accept this very much.”

  He watched her for a beat, curious, but then he sat back on his heels just slightly to pull out something from his pocket. Holding the ring in his hand, he offered it to her.

  “Marry me.”

  Laura blinked. “Are you crazy?” she demanded. But her heart did a little flip in her chest. “We’ve only been together a few weeks!” she added because it seemed like the thing to say.

  “I admit,” Tyler said with a wink, “I’m a bit crazy. But I know what I feel.” He took her hands, his so large and elegant, hers pale against his and chubby. “And I don’t think there’s a more special time for us to marry than Christmas.”

  Well, she couldn’t fault him there. But…but…there had to be a but. She was certain of it.

  “And I don’t want to wait until next year to have my ring on your finger.”

  Any but or argument or pretty much anything but Tyler flew right out the window. She opened her mouth. Closed it. “Tyler,” she began, but stopped.

  Laura took a deep breath and tried again. “We have to think about this,” she said in what she thought was a very reasonable voice. After all, who rushed into marriage? She didn’t rush into anything. It took her ten tries to find the right dry cleaners!

  Except this relationship with Tyler.

  The butterflies in her belly refused to stop and continued their migration. She really wished they’d go away.

  “Why?” Tyler asked, perfectly reasonable. “Why can’t we be one of those couples who gets married after a couple dates and then are together for fifty, sixty years?”

  Laura opened her mouth again. Nothing came out.

  “Take the leap with me.” Tyler cupped her face with his hands. His eyes bore into hers, open and sincere, so open she felt as if she drowned in them. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. And I know, I feel, this is right for us.”

  Leap? Nothing about this relationship, this courtship, had been anything but a leap.

  “Yes.”

  Her mouth answered before her brain had the chance to think through all the probable, very logical steps. And even more logical reasons why leaping into marriage was not something one leapt into. Not something she leapt into.

  Tyler kissed her, and what did it matter, leaping or not? Laura pulled him closer and kissed him back, pouring herself into that kiss. She opened herself to him, more than she had anyone before, and when she’d jumped, he’d caught her.

  “Let’s go,” he said against her mouth.

  “Yes,” she said again. Making love to one’s fiancé should follow a proposal.

  However, once in the bedroom, he didn’t lead her to the bed but to the closet. Stunned, she watched him tug on a button-down shirt.

  “What?” she asked, clearly confused.

  “We have to get dressed,” Tyler said as if it were obvious. “Get to city hall before they close.”

  “City hall?” Laura repeated.

  “For the marriage license,” he explained.

  Marriage license? Now? He wanted to marry her now? Was that panic or excitement tingling through her?

  Excitement.

  Lightheaded excitement that spurred her on. She smiled and couldn’t seem to stop, not that she really wanted to. Before Laura knew it, she was dressed, her hand in Tyler’s, and they were on their way down to the lobby.

  “When you said you didn’t want to wait, you meant it.” But she laughed and rested her head against his arm.

  “Did you?” he asked, one hand cupping her cheek to raise her gaze to his.

  “No,” she admitted softly. “No, I don’t want to wait.”

  One quick stop at Mount Noël’s city hall before they closed early for the holiday, one return trip to the hotel, one entirely too quick kiss from Tyler, and Laura found herself at the hotel’s boutique, Wishes, in a gorgeous wedding dress.

  “I had no idea getting married in Vermont could be so fast,” Laura admitted to Dominque, the sales manager.

  “No need to head to Vegas, eh?” Dominique laughed as she adjusted the hem.

  The Principessa design was a long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder, portrait-collared gown that tapered in at the waist, with a straight skirt. The rich satin shone with a luminescence that took Laura’s breath away.

  The cut accentuated her curves, didn’t point them out, and tucked her in in all the right places. The dress was simple and elegant, with a row of buttons down her back. Laura turned as Dominique pinned in something else. Really, she couldn’t wait for Tyler to undo the buttons and strip it off her.

  Her smile widened. Who needed traditional? Nothing about them was traditional, and Laura loved that.

  Dominique made a couple more alterations and before she had the chance to draw in a full breath, she found herself in the hotel’s private reception area. Tyler stood there in one of his black suits, next to whom Laura assumed was the civil ceremony officiant.

  Several staff beamed at her, and Laura wondered how many hotel employees Tyler had corralled into helping, but it really didn’t matter. She looked around the brightly decorated reception room, with its beautiful and expansive view of the property. Christmas music played softly in the background and a tall tree was decorated in red and green. Everything was perfect.

  Except her parents weren’t there. Nerves threatened to choke her again; maybe they were moving too fast. None of her family or friends were here; none of Tyler’s were, either. It was just them, the hotel staff as guests, and the local officiant.

  Her step faltered as she crossed the room to where Tyler stood by the windows, but he was there to take her hand. Laura looked up at him and whispered, “My parents, your parents.”

  “We can do this again,” he promise
d warmly, and she absolutely believed him. “This is for us.”

  Laura nodded, relieved, and he pulled her closer than was probably normal for a marriage ceremony. Laura didn’t care. The brief service blurred, and she vaguely wondered if the next one would so as well. She hoped not, as she really wanted to remember this. The officiant, Kate, asked for the rings, and Laura slipped it over Tyler’s finger.

  She beamed up at him and he leaned down to kiss her.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  Chapter Ten

  There’d been dancing. And toasts, food, congratulations, and music. The hotel staff had gone above and beyond, and each guest who’d dined in the hotel on Christmas Eve had been treated to dinner and dancing. All Laura really remembered was the feel of Tyler’s arms around her and the way her body, excess curves and all, fit against his.

  She’d lost track of time, but didn’t care. As unorthodox, untraditional, as the day had been, Laura wouldn’t change it for anything. Who needed tradition? All it’d ever done was corner her into a small box she couldn’t and didn’t want to fit in.

  Leaning on tiptoes, she kissed the side of Tyler’s neck and whispered, “Ready for bed?”

  Tyler’s eyes were dark when he looked down at her and grinned that slow, wide grin that took over his whole face. Her grin. The one that made her heart skip a beat, only to speed up with anticipation. The one that made her breath catch and her brain forget how to form coherent thoughts. He kissed her hard and fast, just enough to leave her breathless.

  She wrapped her hand around his and tugged him out of the restaurant and across the lobby. Several people waved and called out their congratulations. Laura waved back and smiled; she didn’t care how wide she grinned or that everyone knew what they were about to do. It was her wedding night and Laura didn’t care who knew it.

  The instant the elevator doors slid closed, Tyler kissed her. Laura wondered if he’d somehow managed to get them alone during every single elevator ride they’d taken. But then his tongue slid over hers and she didn’t care if a hoard of drunken partiers got on at the next floor.

  She slipped her hands beneath his jacket, bunching up his shirt to feel the smooth, warm skin beneath.

  “I can’t believe we did it,” she said against his lips. “I can’t believe we got married on Christmas Eve.”

  Tyler grinned and nipped along her jaw. “Sorry?”

  “No.” Exhilarated, thrilled, free? Yes. Sorry? No.

  Laura wanted to tell him that she felt like she was flying, that this whole leaping before she looked, planned, thought about it, and planned some more wasn’t her. In his arms, nothing felt more right.

  The elevator dinged and he walked her out, his hands on her hips as he kissed across her bare shoulder. She’d given Tyler an extra key to her room days ago, and was now doubly glad she’d done so. It wasn’t like her gown had pockets. Laura stepped back and took his hand. She silently led him into the room, past the remains of their Christmas Eve morning, and through to the bedroom.

  Her hands slipped beneath his suit jacket and down his arms, taking the material with her. Laura tossed it over the bench at the foot of the bed. Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, spreading the material open to her touch. She tasted each inch of skin she exposed with small kisses and quick licks.

  Tyler’s hands hung at his sides, but she felt the weight of his steady gaze on her and shivered at the intensity of it. She tossed the shirt atop the jacket and returned to his mouth.

  Arousal heated her blood, the sharpness of it no stranger whenever she was around, or even thinking of, Tyler. His long fingers brushed over her shoulders; his mouth trailed along her throat. Still touching her, he turned her around, kissing her spine as his fingers worked on the buttons of her dress.

  Laura suddenly wished she’d worn something a little more practical, but the gown made her feel far more beautiful than she usually did. Plus, she wasn’t about to marry Tyler in a business suit.

  Tyler spread the dress open and kissed down her spine, his hands coming around her middle and up to cup her breasts. Laura’s breath caught and she arched into his touch. His fingers tugged her nipples, his mouth doing delicious things to her neck. Suddenly the dress pooled at her feet and he swung her around.

  His mouth crashed against hers, hard and fast, and Laura moaned into the kiss. Her nails scraped up his back as she pulled him closer. He easily picked her up and laid her on the bed, kneeling beside her.

  And then he touched her.

  They’d spent the last two weeks either in bed or fooling around. She’d had more orgasms in the previous weeks than she ever had in her life, and she’d learned nearly all there was to learn about Tyler’s body. Still she wanted more.

  All that time didn’t prepare her for the sheer slowness of his seduction. Beneath his talented hands, his questing mouth, his hard, beautiful body, Laura shuddered, moaned his name. Her first orgasm washed over her with a brilliance that made her breath catch.

  She lost track of time—it was so unimportant. All that mattered was the way he drew out every touch, every taste, and each and every sensation until Laura didn’t know where he began and she ended.

  Slow kisses, the brush of his long fingers over her body, a slide of her leg against his hip. All aroused, every touch showed the depth of passion and need and want and love. Laura shuddered, on the precipice of climaxing, but still Tyler seduced. He tasted her again and again until she sobbed in frustrated need. He teased and touched and Laura floated, lost.

  Tyler trailed his mouth over her spine again, his hands slowly trailing down her sides to her hips. Suddenly he moved, and her eyes shot open at the loss. But he only reached for the head of the bed and grabbed a pillow from where they’d been shoved aside earlier, so much earlier. Laura lifted her head to watch him. Her body was tight with arousal and need to feel him moving within her and the lazy acceptance of the grace of her husband’s body.

  Her husband. That was a first, and the warmth that moved through her had nothing to do with Tyler’s touch. Well, not everything, at least.

  He moved back down her body, taking the time to touch her, linger over the spots she liked, and teased her aching wetness with his fingers. Tyler gently lifted her hips and slid the pillow beneath her.

  “Tyler.” She breathed out his name and looked over her shoulder.

  His eyes were dark with passion and such intense focus that Laura’s already unsteady breath caught. Her fingers curled into the bedding and she arched her hips back against his. When his breath caught, she grinned and moved her hips in a slow circle, the move doing nothing to dampen her throbbing need.

  She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, at how his fingers tightened on her hips, at the growl in the back of his throat that threatened to push her over the edge. She tried to speak, but had no words. She wanted to tell him, “Yes, anything. Anything you want.” But didn’t know how.

  Tyler moved behind her, lips trailing up her spine as slowly as they’d trailed down. Along her shoulders, the sensitive side of her neck, his hands on her sides, her hips, wrapped around her own hands. Another shudder, another moan, and Laura moved more insistently now.

  “Now,” she begged, or tried to. She wasn’t certain she’d said the word aloud. “Please, Tyler. Now.”

  Every orgasm she’d had since he’d begun his slow worship of her body had built until she shook and begged.

  His body touching every inch of hers, he easily slipped into her wetness and hissed out her name. She knew he was close to losing control, and the thought thrilled her. Without him saying, Laura knew he wanted to move slowly, gently, prolonging every touch and movement and orgasm until the end.

  She wanted him, wanted to feel his control shatter. Wanted him to know what he did to her. What she did to him.

  “Laura,” he groaned, his teeth sinking hard into her shoulder.

  Laura gasped and arched beneath him. She wanted him deeper, wanted to see him. “Yes,” she mo
aned, and her bum moved against him, nearly dislodging him. “Yes, Tyler. I need…” She gasped in a breath as he withdrew slightly, only to thrust hard back into her. “Yes, harder, make me come. Please. Please. Please.”

  “Not yet,” he said, the words a breath across her ear. His tongue ran across the back of her neck and finally, finally he moved with slow thrusts, the slow, drawn-out pleasure that wound around and over her. Once more she felt her orgasm building, the heated slowness of it, the promise of falling—of leaping—off the precipice.

  Tyler moved steadily, his body blanketing hers, and every nerve in her body sparked and fired. Laura whimpered, pushed herself up slightly, and twisted to reach behind her, kiss him. He thrust harder and she gasped, broke the kiss, fisted her hands onto their bedding. Cried out his name. Shuddered and strained for release.

  “Tyler,” she gasped.

  His control snapped and she cried out as he moved harder, faster, and her orgasm twisted tighter and tighter through her. Despite their bodies touching in every way possibly, Laura kissed him again. It wasn’t enough, not enough, and she strained for more.

  Suddenly it snapped and Laura screamed as her orgasm crashed through her and she climaxed hard. All her inhibitions vanished. Even as the world faded and her body continued to move against his, Laura felt his thrusts increase, the rhythm falter. With a cry of her name, he came hard, emptying himself into her.

  His arms buckled, and Tyler collapsed onto her, a wonderful weight. In some distant part of her mind, she wanted to turn over and hold him, but her body continued to shudder with the aftershocks of such a hard orgasm, and she didn’t want to move.

  She thought she may have dozed, or passed out, really, and blinked her eyes open when he rolled them over. Laura curled around him and rested her head on his chest, too sated and too exhausted to do more than listen to the still-pounding heart beneath her ear.

  * * * *

  The sun barely peeked over the mountains the next morning. Christmas morning. Laura stretched and hummed as she lifted her head from Tyler’s chest. Her limbs felt heavy, her body still vibrated with Tyler’s touch, and her heart beat contentedly.