He walks slowly toward the bathroom with an amused frown on his face. “Are you coming out?”
Biting my bottom lip nervously, I shake my head. “I don't want to,” I say softly. “I think you forgot that I'm pregnant when you bought this. I look fat and frumpy in it.”
He smiles at me. “Baby, I did not forget that you're pregnant. I know your body like the back of my hand, even when you're pregnant. And the thought of you in that outfit has been fueling my fantasies all day long,” he says softly, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Please come out and let me look at you.” I hesitate as I stare back at him, and he reaches out his hand to me. “Come,” he whispers.
Still chewing my lip, I open the door slowly and step out, taking his hand. And I watch as his eyes slowly travel from my face down over the length of my body and back up again. His expression is so carnal and appreciative that it makes me feel sexy. The tension flows from my shoulders as my body reacts to his lustful gaze. I love the way he looks at me sometimes. He makes me feel so desirable.
“Damn, you are beautiful,” he whispers.
I say nothing as I smile at him, but I can feel myself blushing. He steps closer to me, reaching out to caress my face as he leans down and kisses me, long and deep. His arms circle my waist and pull me closer. Then in one swift move, I am lifted up off the ground and my legs close around him.
He walks over to the bed and lays me down gently. Then he follows, still kissing me passionately as his hands roam over my body, running beneath the sheer fabric of the Christmas nightie. I moan softly as he nibbles at my neck, and his hands gently squeeze and caress my flesh. Slowly, his fingers begin to play over the strings of my panties, and I lift my hips as he works to pull them down. When he has discarded them to the floor, he lightly runs his tongue up the inside of my left thigh, and my legs spread wide of their own volition.
He settles in between my thighs, and my fingers twist themselves in his thick, wavy hair as I moan in pleasure, my hips moving to the rhythm of his tongue. I love when he lingers in this position; he is so good at this.
“Oh, Joshua,” I sing out as my body bows off the bed and trembles uncontrollably. He doesn't let up until the aftershocks do, and I am lost in the sensations.
He rises and kisses me deeply, his tongue stroking mine as I taste my own arousal on his lips. He looks into my eyes and smiles as he hooks a finger around one cup of the bodice of my nightie, pulling it down and freeing one needy breast. His works the other over with his hand, and my body trembles anew as he latches on to my tender nipple, sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh, God. Joshua!”
Wrapping his arms around me, he turns suddenly, rolling onto his back and bringing me with him. He grabs my head and kisses me forcefully for a moment before turning his attention back to my exposed breast.
I can feel his erection straining against his Christmas briefs, and my hands work to free it, pulling them down over his thighs. I pull away and quickly straddle him, moaning loudly as he enters me. His hands roam over my body as we move together, our bodies writhing and grinding against one another urgently. Building quickly.
“You are so fucking sexy, baby,” he growls. His words work their magic and I explode as my orgasm rolls through me like a locomotive, dragging me helplessly where it will as I moan in ecstasy. Josh gives a shout of his own as he pounds into me and stills. His arms tighten around me and he holds me close as we fight to take in air.
We lay in silence for a long time as our hearts slow down, and I lift my head and lightly kiss his chest. “That was fun,” I say softly, and he laughs.
“Mmm, that was more than fun, baby,” he says, and I can hear his smile. “God, I love buying you lingerie.”
I giggle at him. “I'm glad we have hobbies that we can share,” I say brightly, and he laughs loudly, lightly squeezing me to him.
He breathes in deeply and sighs as his hands play in my hair. “So, do you want to lay here and bask in the afterglow, or do you want to open your gift?”
I gasp loudly as I lean up and look at him. “Gifts, please!” He chuckles at my enthusiasm as we both move to get out of the bed, and I adjust the bodice of my Christmas nightie, tucking my still-exposed breast back inside. I bend down to find the matching thong panties and pull the scrap of material on as Josh pulls on his own Christmas gear. It's then that I notice the picture on the front of them is a pair of bells, and the caption reads 'Jingle my bells.' I crack up laughing as I look at them, and he smiles.
“You like those?” he asks with a giant grin. “I figured they were perfect since that seems to be our family's theme song this holiday season.”
“You are so freaking adorable,” I smile as he takes my hand and leads me to the small Christmas tree in the corner of our room.
It stands next to the lit fireplace, and unlike the large, fresh tree down in the family room, this one is decorated in all white lights and tiny silver and gold antique-looking ornaments. It's our personal tree. The one we cuddle up together and gaze at on December nights when the twins are sleeping across the hall. The one we make love next to, and sit by as we dream about Christmases to come. It's also the one we each place one special gift beneath, which we open on Christmas Eve. It's a tradition we began right after we were married. One that we both look forward to with great anticipation.
Josh bends and sits down, Indian style, as I lower myself to the floor and sit beside him. “Okay, you first,” he says, handing me a small gift bag.
“No, you go first!”
“No, baby. Come on,” he pouts. “You go first.”
He smiles anxiously at me, and I give in. I tear into the bag, rifling through the tissue paper, and pull out a small, square, light blue box.
“Tiffany's?”
Josh says nothing as he smiles at me. With anxious fingers, I open the box, and I fall speechless as my eyes take in the gorgeous sight inside.
“Josh!”
“You like it?”
I look up at him in disbelief. “It's beautiful,” I gasp, taking the pearl and emerald bracelet from the box.
“I wanted to get you some sort of mother's jewelry,” he says nervously. “But I couldn't find exactly what I wanted, so the clerk at the store … she suggested this.” His voice trails off, and I look up to see him watching me closely. “It's not a typical mother's bracelet, but … well, it has all the right stones. The pearls … they represent the twins since their birthday is in June. And the emeralds … well, they're for little Cole here since he's due in May,” he says, caressing my tummy. He is so adorable as he quietly explains the bracelet's meaning to me, and I smile as I watch him.
“And the diamonds represent us,” he says nervously. “Our love and our commitment.”
“I love it, Josh,” I exclaim. “I love it so much!”
He helps me put it on then, and I hold out my arm, surveying how it looks. Then I reach up and gently take his face in my hands, and kiss him. And my mind is already mentally rummaging through my closet, looking for the perfect emerald green dress to wear for tomorrow's family dinner so that I can show my bracelet off.
“Okay, your turn,” I say excitedly, reaching for the long, thin box underneath the tree. At first glance, one would think it contained a neck tie, and I smile broadly as I hand it to Josh. I can't wait for his reaction.
He smirks at me as he takes the box from my hands, narrowing his eyes as he lightly shakes the box and listens for clues. Then he pulls off the bow and sticks it on his bare chest, like a flower for his lapel, and rips open the paper. I watch as his brow furrows when he opens the box and pulls out a brightly-colored brochure. He studies it for a few seconds trying to figure it out, and then he looks at me wide-eyed.
“What is this?”
“Exactly what it says,” I smile at him. “It's a company that specializes in building custom, super-garages for car collectors. You tell them what you're looking for in a custom garage and they have an architect who will design it for you. And the
n they build it. I figured, since we have the space on our property, why not?”
“Why not?” he asks, his voice full of surprise. “Sam … baby, I have three muscle cars. That hardly warrants a custom built garage.”
“Josh,” I smirk at him. “You have three mint condition, numbers matching, collector-worthy muscle cars; and they're all sitting, covered, in our dusty garage when they should be stored properly. And can you honestly tell me your collection's not going to continue to grow?”
He looks at me in shock, I think, and he frowns slightly. “I don't know,” he mumbles, and I giggle at him.
“Well, this way you'll have the space for it. And you can design it however you want; these guys can do anything. Just flip through that brochure. You can make it the ultimate man cave if you want!”
“Baby, how much is this costing?” he asks me.
“You don't worry about that,” I say softly. “It's a Christmas gift. Please enjoy it.”
“Sam …”
His voice trails off, and I watch nervously as various emotions play over his handsome face. Josh and I haven't argued about money in a long, long time, and I thought we were finally getting to the point where he felt comfortable with it. Was I wrong? Well you are offering him a Christmas gift with a six-figure price tag, Samantha.
“I don't know what to say, Sam,” he finally says quietly as his eyes meet mine, and I try to determine if he's upset. His gaze is so intense that I can't tell, and it makes me uneasy. He reaches out and caresses my face. “Thank you.”
He leans in and softly kisses my lips. And I smile slowly at him.
“Do you like it?” I whisper.
He smiles slightly at me. “I'm in shock, baby. It's an incredible gift. Just like you.” He kisses me again, slow and passionate, and he stares into my eyes when he pulls away.
“Merry Christmas, Josh,” I whisper.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
Epilogue
Not many people visit a prison the day after Christmas, and I can honestly say that it's a place I never expected to be. But I just felt this was something I needed to do. To make a point. Who are you kidding, Pierce? You're here to deliver a personal message.
I smirk to myself as I'm escorted into the private visiting room and take a seat at the table. The room is small and institution-like. Four close walls that feel like they're getting closer by the minute, and a large observation glass window in one wall. There are round hooks embedded into the table where prisoners can be handcuffed. But that won't be necessary this visit; I want his hands free. I'd love for him to take a swing.
The door opens and a prison guard escorts Timothy Echols in. The minute he sees me, his eyes about bug out of his head and he tries to back out of the room.
“No, I don't want to see him!”
He tries to protest, but to no avail. And I smirk again at the dirtbag as he's pushed through the door and made to sit at the table. The guard looks at me with an unconcerned gaze. “You want me to stay or go, Lieutenant?”
I shrug my shoulders at him. “Doesn't matter. We both know this douche bag is too scared to take on a man. He's much more confident hitting women.” The guard smiles and leaves the room, and I turn my attention to Echols. “How you been Timber?” I ask.
He swallows hard, looking everywhere but at me. Fucking coward.
“Not in a talking mood, huh? Well, that's alright, this isn't really a social call. Hey, I brought you a Christmas gift though,” I tell him as I place a manila folder on the table and scoot it toward him. He looks at it with a frown. “Go ahead. Open it.”
He glances quickly up at me, then looks back at the folder. Slowly he reaches out and opens it up. And I watch as his expression changes to one of surprise and then disgust. On one side of the folder is a large photo of Scruggs lying on the coroner's table, gunshot wound clearly visible. And on the other side is a clipping of the newspaper article about the incident, with the headline “Heiress Kills Kidnapper/Rapist” in big, bold letters.
“It's a really nice article, you should read it,” I tell him. Then I stand up and lean across the table, getting in his face as he cowers backwards and looks up at me.
“I'm only going to tell you this once,” I say through clenched teeth. “You get no further warning, so you better fucking pay attention. You think you got connections in here, Echols? I will show you what connections really look like. You send anything else my way and you won't live to make it to the next state's prison. Game Over!”
I straighten to my full height, my eyes never leaving his as say loudly, “I'm done here!”
A moment later the door opens and one guard comes in to retrieve Echols as the opposite door opens and another guard ushers me out. I leave the prison feeling much lighter than when I came in, and I can't wait to get home to my family.
About the Author
Lashell Collins is an American author of romantic fiction. Between her book characters and the ones she knows in real life, her plate stays pretty full. But she loves to hear from readers, so connect with her in the following ways:
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If you enjoyed reading about Joshua and Samantha's journey to true love and happiness, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too.
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Table of Contents
Pierced By Danger
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Pierced By Love
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Pierced Ever After
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Pierced By Christmas
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
About the Author
oks on Archive.
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 102