by Tanya Holmes
“I’ll tell you what’s universal. Wanting a man to ask a simple question, instead of going round and round the mulberry bush.”
“Did I stutter?”
Was he serious? “Yes, you did. In fact, you stuttered the whole way through it.”
“Okay, well, I eventually got to the point, didn’t I?”
“Sure, if you call saying you like fucking me, and don’t want anyone else doing it, a proposal.”
His expression soured. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it at the time. In fact, you were saying yes when we were interrupted.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Uh-uh. You said yes. You don’t say ‘yes’ without a question being posed.”
“The point is that I had to practically drag it out of you.”
He lifted a brow. “Ah, so now we’re moving the goal posts.”
“I am not.”
“Here’s the deal.” His eyes narrowed. “I said I ‘could’ marry you. And in the proposal before that, I used the word, ‘will.’ What the hell else do you need?”
“What about ‘I was delirious’ do you not understand? It doesn’t count. I can’t even remember it! And then the second time, you—”
“My intent was clear both times, wasn’t it? Marriage. To you. And isn’t my intent what’s at issue here?”
It hit me so suddenly I cupped my mouth and shook my head. Nonsense. We were arguing nonsense again. But this time with Braeden’s logic. Stifling a giggle, I glared at him. Only then did I notice he too was beating back a smile.
He finally burst out laughing. “I had you going there for a while, didn’t I?” He yanked me into his arms. “The answer is yes, D, Miss Reed, Miss Knight, Danielle, Denieve, Hagatha…. Did I miss one?”
“Yeah,” I said laughing with him. “It’s Jenny now.”
“Well, then, Jenny…yes. I could marry you. I will marry you. I have to marry you. Because if I don’t, I’ll go batshit. So you can stop begging.” Ian stood and framed my face. Dark hunger burned in his eyes. “Three months,” he murmured. “Three months of me pretending my left hand was you. Three months of wet dreams. Three months of torture. Well, no more.”
He crushed his mouth over mine. Ahhhh, this, this I remembered. It was a first kiss, a second kiss, a hundredth kiss, a familiar kiss, yet one unlike any of the others. It was a tantalizing blend of everything, and God, could Ian McBride do it well.
He walked me backward into the wall, pushed me up against it, while he frantically worked at his zipper. Once his jeans and underwear hit the floor, he kicked them aside and went for my pants. They were maternity, so they came off easily. Having no use for my panties, he ripped the lace to shreds and tossed the scraps. Then he hiked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his hips. The thick crown of his stiff cock nudged my entrance.
“God, I’ve missed this sweet little box.”
This he said while burying himself inside me. He groaned as I squeezed his cock, reveling in the feel, adjusting to his familiar thickness. His invasion was so raw, so dominating, and so complete, I almost came. It had been so long for both of us, I expected him to go wild. To give me a pummeling, but he didn’t. He stood as if frozen, imbedded within me to the hilt. Had he not continued to breathe, I would’ve sworn he’d turned to stone.
“Now you’re as you should be,” Ian whispered. “Naked and impaled.”
He gazed into my eyes until the connection was made, until his soul found mine. Then he cradled my face, pulled out, and thrust back in. His strokes were slow and purposeful, each filling me with a riptide of fire. Every inner caress was a sensual assault, every sigh a benediction, every look a praise of the beauty he saw in me. He used his body in an act of worship, used his touch as a balm to my soul, and his breath as a calming breeze.
“Doll,” he breathed, pushing into me again. “I’m finally home.”
Ian dipped his hips and switched angles, torturing one spot, then going someplace else before the spark could flame. He was drawing it out, trying to make it last, but it couldn’t. We were both so primed and on the edge. And now, he’d since hit Braeden’s spot, the X-spot…hell, every damn spot on my Richter scale.
“Sech ta mitir vu thest, D.”
I remembered that one. It was Yoreck for: I’m about to fuck you blind.
He pulled out of me and rubbed the head of his slick cock against my clit, then plunged back in. As his hips jackhammered lightning fast, pleasure coiled throughout my body, building and tightening with each stroke. He drove into me relentlessly, ruthlessly, desperately, whispering my name among a string of curses and blessings. The soundproofing muffled our disjointed moans, which gave our coupling added intimacy.
Dropping his forehead against the wall, he set a feverish pace. Each thrust was packed with three months of uncertainty, of missing, of desperation. Of relief and gratitude. Of love, so much love. It flowed from his pores, from his breath, from everywhere we touched.
The moment built to a sudden crescendo when Ian pressed home and stayed, his body motionless as his cock pulsed wet and hot within me. His hoarse shout of completion signaled my own. I clung to him, my entire body tightening as a swell of pleasure rushed from our point of contact and spread like wildfire.
While I was still coming, the air changed, the weight changed, our bodies changed, and then we were back in Angela’s apartment, in my bed, with him imbedded deep within me, his cock still pulsing from his orgasm. He’d teleported us in the blink of an eye.
Gasping, Ian rolled to the side, taking great care for the child between us, and carried me with him, not breaking our intimate connection. He rested my head against his shoulder, his powerful arms a wonderful cage. Oh, how I’d missed his scent—sandalwood, musk, and mint—the taste of his honeyed tongue, the electricity in his feverish touch. I was drunk with it.
“I love you,” he said, breathlessly. “So much it frightens me.”
I kissed his neck. “Don’t be afraid. I’m yours. Forever.”
As morning slipped into afternoon, we made love again and again, holding each other, whispering words of love and hope for the days to come.
Once our hearts finally calmed, he dragged the tips of his fingers up and down my arm. “Tell me something, my love. Were we happy?”
“When?”
“In the vision.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a yawn. “I didn’t see what happened next.” Inching back to look at him, I smiled lazily. “I guess it’s up to us to make our own happy ending.”
Ian tangled our lips in a gentle kiss, his warm mouth lingering above mine. “Happy, yes, but there’ll be no more endings for us. Only beginnings.”
THE MUSIC OF THE DARKEST FROST, VOLUME 2
Ian’s Song
“That's Enough For Me” by Paul Williams on YouTube
Purchase "Just An Old Fashioned Love Song" by Paul Williams (album)
Xavier’s “F*** Music”
Purchase "Sexual Healing"
Purchase “Let's Get It On”
“Rub You The Right Way” video
Purchase "Rub You The Right Way"
"Pony" video
Purchase "Pony"
"Animals" video
Purchase "Animals"
Purchase "Darling Nikki"
"Play" on YouTube (EXTREMELY dirty version)
Purchase "Play" (clean version)
"Crazy Bitch" video
Purchase "Crazy Bitch"
“Closer” on YouTube
Purchase "Closer"
Xavier’s Songs For Lovemaking
“Wicked Game” video
Purchase "Wicked Game"
“Con Te Partirò" video
Purchase "Con te partirò"
Coming in 2016:
Temptation’s Edge
Book 2 in the standalone Sons of Temptation series
By Tanya Holmes
APPRECIATION
As always, to my husband, my greatest supporter
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks once again to my editor and good friend Nikki Busch. She started this crazy journey with me and has been a constant source of encouragement.
To the Nameless Blogger who, once again helped keep me motivated to finish this thing. You know who you are, and you also know how much I appreciate your support. I couldn’t have done this without you.
To author Roslyn Carrington who made me see Xavier for what he is: a beautifully flawed diamond in the rough.
Tons of love and appreciation to the ladies of The Darkest Frost Street Team, some of whom contributed to Xavier’s naughty play list: Argie Sokoli, Avephoenix Claudia, Danielle Kincaid, Debbie Wenzel Higgins (Animals, Crazy Bitch), Felicia Welch-Reevers (Sexual Healing), Jen Bründl-Adelsberger (Pony), Julie Armor Sandlin, Kat Townsend, Katiria Rodriguez, Kim Sowards, Kristen Gough, Meghan Bashir (Closer), Mitzi Pummer Carroll, Nikki Busch (Let’s Get It On), Robin I. Corley-Castle, Sarah Armstrong (Wicked Game), Tara Louise Sharland, and Tina V. Young.
And last, but certainly not least, a special thanks to Robin I. Corley-Castle for giving us “Hagatha.” :-)
Kudos to you all!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amazon Bestselling Author Tanya Holmes is a Golden Leaf double-finalist, a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist, a recipient of the Maggie Award, the MICA Award, as well as Overall Winner of the Sandy Haddad Award and a two-time finalist and one-time winner of The Emily (Best of the Best). She's happily married with children and loves reading, writing and a good cup of coffee—but not necessarily in that order.
PLACES & SPACES
Tanya on Amazon
Tanya on Twitter
The Darkest Frost on Facebook
Tanya’s website
Tanya on Tsu
Tanya’s Blog
INTERVIEW
Cup and a Book Interview With Tanya Holmes: Writing The Darkest Frost
A Message About Piracy
Some people are painters. Some are programmers. Some are cabdrivers. Some are teachers. And then there are authors. Writing is how they make a living, which is why those who take an author’s hard work by selling or giving it away without permission, do authors great harm: financially, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Like everyone else, authors have rent, tuition, medical bills, and various other expenses. However, book pirates don’t care about this; they don’t consider the damage caused by each illegal download. Likewise, many who illegally download don’t think they’re doing harm, but when you consider the thousands upon thousands of others who are thinking the same way, the damage is astronomical. That’s death by a thousand cuts—money hard-working authors will never see. In short, anyone who’s downloaded a pirated book is contributing to the problem.
For Indie authors it’s particularly detrimental since everything is an out-of-pocket expense. This includes editing, book cover costs, paperbacks for giveaways, blog tours, platform fees, supplies, postage, promotion—the whole shebang. That’s why book piracy is so devastating and destructive. If you are currently reading a pirated version of this or any author’s book, please do the right thing and purchase a copy. Thank you to everyone who has bought, borrowed, or received this book from an authorized retailer.