Mistletoe Games

by Jaci Burton

  This damn dress had fit only two weeks ago during the final fitting. She had to cut down on eating and maybe get a little more exercise.

  Damn holidays. And dinners at her mother-in-law’s house. She was enjoying delving into the pasta a little too much lately, and now she was paying the price.

  She wanted to sit down and ease her shoes off under the table, and maybe just close her eyes for a second.

  She wondered where Gavin was, but she couldn’t find him through the sea of bodies on the dance floor. He was probably somewhere with the guys, no doubt talking sports.

  They hadn’t had sex today. They needed to have sex. If they had any chance at all of making a baby, it was important they keep up the daily sex routine. And yes, she was well aware she didn’t ovulate thirty days out of the month, but her cycle was screwed up lately, and the best time to have sex was . . . all the time.

  She smiled at the thought. Nothing wrong with practicing, was there? They’d certainly done plenty of that, and she had no complaints. She knew Gavin didn’t.

  Just the thought of touching him, kissing him, had her breasts swelling against her oh-my-God-this-dress-is-too-tight bodice.

  Now all she had to do was find Gavin, and make a subtle suggestion . . .

  * * *

  Gavin was gathered with the guys at the bar, knocking back another beer and listening to Cole and Mick talk about the games tomorrow. He was stuck in the middle of them grousing about linemen not covering plays and upcoming contract negotiations. But his gaze was on his wife, who leaned against the table and sipped water while she watched the dance floor.

  Liz looked tired. He should take her upstairs. He knew she’d object, that she was determined to stay until every guest had left the ballroom. Though he didn’t know why. This party could go on for a while.

  He pushed off the bar and headed toward her, circumventing the dance floor and coming around the back of the tables. She hadn’t seen him, though she was looking for him, her neck stretching as she lifted up on her toes to scan the room, which gave him a great view of her fantastic legs. She caught sight of him as he came up on her left and gave him a half smile.

  “There you are. Were you at the bar?”

  He laid his beer on the table and tugged her close. “I was. Listening to Mick and Cole talk football.”

  She rested her palm on his chest. “How . . . riveting.”

  “You can’t imagine. How are you feeling?”

  “Perfect. And you?”

  “Restless. Want to dance?”

  She shook her head. “I was actually thinking we could go someplace”—she looked around—“I was going to say private, but I don’t think there’s anyplace secluded in this ballroom.”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Grab your purse and come with me.” He took her hand and led her out of the ballroom and toward the elevators. They rode up to their floor.

  “It’s a little early to leave for the night.”

  He gave her a smile. “Just a short break.”

  He inserted the key and opened the door to their suite. Liz laid her bag on the table, went to the sofa, and sat. Gavin went to the bar and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water.

  “You read my mind.”

  He opened the bottle and poured it into a glass he’d filled with ice and brought it over to her, kneeling in front of her as he handed her the glass.

  “This looks promising,” she said as she accepted the glass and took a sip.

  Gavin lifted her foot and slipped off her shoes. “Again, I don’t know why you torture yourself by wearing these heels.”

  Liz resisted the urge to groan. It felt so good to have those things off. “It was part of the uniform. All the women wore them today.”

  “You wear them every day.”

  “And you like my legs when I do.”

  He tucked the shoes aside and started massaging the balls of her feet. This time she did moan.

  “I’d like your legs if you walked around in bunny slippers.”

  She laughed at that. “You would. But there’s not a chance in hell that bunny slippers are in my future. Or my shoe closet.”

  “Some day you’ll be huge and pregnant and then what’ll you do? You’ll topple over in those things.” He motioned with his head toward her four-and-a-half-inch heels.

  She couldn’t help but lay her hand on her stomach and make a very fervent wish that that day would come. “I’ll wear very stylish sandals. But not bunny slippers.”

  Gavin raised her leg up and pressed a kiss to her ankle. “This foot would be cute in slippers.”

  “Only if they’re sexy kitten-heeled ones.”

  “You, my very delicious wife, have a fetish.”

  “So do you, my leg-obsessed husband.”

  He smoothed his hand over her calves. “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “I have a fetish for you and your sexy body.” He smoothed his hand over her dress, dragging it up and over her thighs. “And I have an obsession about your scent.”

  When he kissed her inner thigh, she gasped, unable to help the sounds that escaped her throat when he dragged her underwear down her legs. Her dress was oh-so-tight and she could barely breathe in it, so the fast, in-and-out pants Gavin’s soft kisses along her inner thigh caused were only making it more difficult to catch a breath.

  But she’d make any sacrifice if he’d only move his tongue closer. And when he scooted her butt to the edge of the sofa and put his mouth on her clit, she let out a whimper of sweet satisfaction.

  “Oh, Gavin, yes. Right there.” He was still fully dressed, and he looked so amazingly sexy in his tux with his head buried between her legs, his mouth doing delicious things to her pussy.

  She gripped the edge of the sofa and lifted, giving him access, spreading her legs wider so he could slide his tongue along her folds. He captured the bud between his lips and sucked, and she was lost, shattering in a wild climax that left her shaking.

  Then he was above her, kissing her with a deep, soulful kiss. He pulled her up and took her into the bedroom, his hand on the zipper of her dress as they made their way into the darkness of the room.

  They didn’t need lights on, just the touch of their hands on each other as Gavin pulled her zipper down. She breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled off her tight dress and laid it on the chair. She turned and undid his tie while he shrugged out of his jacket and went to work on the cuff links.

  “Too many parts to this tux,” she whispered, her body vibrating in anticipation of his touch.

  Once his buttons were undone, she spread her hands over the warm expanse of his chest.

  “I like you touching me,” he said, reaching around to unclasp her bra and remove it.

  She resisted the urge to moan in relief as her breasts spilled out. Being naked felt wonderful after feeling so restricted all day. She moved into Gavin and rubbed her breasts over his chest.

  “I’m trying to get my pants off here, and you’re distracting me,” he grumbled.

  She laughed. “Well hurry up.”

  He unzipped and dropped his pants, then lifted her into his arms. “You’re impatient.”

  “Just a little.”

  He carried her to the bed and pulled back the cover, depositing her in the middle of the bed before coming down next to her. “Is that right?”

  She rolled over to face him. “Yes. I’ve been wanting to get you alone all night.”

  He framed her face with his hands. “Now we’re alone. And I’m all yours.”

  She reached down and grasped his cock in her hand, stroking him. “All of you, huh?”

  She raised her leg over his hip and placed the tip of his cock at the entrance to her pussy. He pushed and entered her, but not fully.

  “Gavin,” she warned.

  He gifted h
er with that wickedly devilish smile of his that never failed to make her shiver.

  “Something you want?”

  “Yeah. Your cock.”

  “I love when you get demanding. Take it.”

  She surged forward and slid onto his cock. Gavin gripped her hip and squeezed as she moved against him, but then he took over, thrusting ever so slowly, torturing her with his movements that never failed to make her wet, to make her pussy clench around his cock.

  “Oh, babe . . . what you do to me,” he said, spearing her again even as he swept her hair away from her face so he could kiss her.

  Liz lost herself in Gavin’s kiss, in the way he moved within her, his body grinding against hers and taking her right to the peak. And when he rolled her onto her back, deepening the pressure, she wrapped her legs tight around him to hold him where she needed him.

  “Yes, there,” she whispered, stroking her hands over his shoulders, tightening them on his arms when she felt her orgasm drawing near.

  “That’s it, babe,” he said, deepening and quickening his strokes. He knew her so well, knew her body as well as she did, and recognized when she tightened around him that she was close to the edge. He knew just what to do to make her fall.

  He slowed down, and rolled against her, rocking his body against her clit.

  “Oh, yes, I’m coming.” She arched against him and shattered.

  Gavin slipped his hand under her butt, gripping her tightly as the waves of her climax electrified her. And when he shuddered against her and groaned, it only served to prolong her own orgasm.

  When she could breathe again, she realized they were stuck together.

  “I’m a mess,” she said, sliding her fingers over his back. “I’ll need a shower before we go back downstairs.”

  He rolled over and tugged her next to him. “Or . . . we could just stay here.”

  She pondered the thought. “You don’t think we’d be missed?”

  “I think they’ll manage just fine without us.”

  It was a tempting thought. She was exhausted, and the thought of climbing back into that tight dress made her want to cry.

  “Maybe we can just rest here for a few minutes. Then we’ll clean up and go back downstairs.”

  “Sure, babe. Whatever you want to do.”

  She didn’t make it five minutes before she was out cold.

  TEN

  Gavin took a deep breath and counted to ten. Again.

  It was Christmas Eve, and tomorrow, they’d have the whole family over. Which meant for the past few days his wife had been losing her goddamned mind.

  He didn’t see the big deal. The cleaning people had been here yesterday, so the house looked great. They had all the food and drink they could ever need, because Gavin had gone to the grocery store at least twenty-five times in the past four days.

  Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but it seemed like every time he saw Liz, she handed him a grocery list. He had started to hide from her.

  Like now. He was currently in the basement TV room trying to watch sports, and cringed when he heard her heels coming down the wood stairs.

  “Gavin? Are you down here?”

  For a second, he actually thought about not saying anything. Maybe she’d think he’d left the house. But she’d eventually figure it out when she saw his truck in the garage.

  “Yeah, babe. I’m here.”

  “Oh, good. I need you to go to the store for me.”

  Shit. He pushed off the chair and stood, then came around to the stairs to see her standing there.

  “Seriously? We already own everything the grocery store has. What could you possibly need now?”

  Throwing him a look, she waved a list back and forth. “You just have no idea the things I still need. Would you mind?”

  If he said yes, he knew he’d be in for one hell of a lousy Christmas. “Sure. No problem. Just let me grab my coat and my keys.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  He walked up the stairs, taking the list from her on his way. When he got to his truck, he looked at the list and mentally cursed.

  Gruyère cheese? What the fuck was that?

  Fresh cranberries. He was sure he’d just bought those yesterday. In fact, he was positive he had. He should go inside and double-check. He got out and went inside, and found Liz in the kitchen.

  “I just bought cranberries yesterday.”

  She gave him a look like he was stupid. “Yes?”

  “So . . . you need more?”

  “Obviously.”

  “And what the hell is Gruyère cheese?”

  “Just go to the deli. Melinda is working today. She’ll help you.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh. And stop at the liquor store and get one more bottle of that Australian Merlot Savannah and Cole like so much.”

  “We already have two bottles of that.”

  Again, she shot him one of those looks. “And your point?”

  Count to ten. Count to ten. “Okay. I’ll pick up another bottle.”

  He needed to get out of this house and away from Liz before one of them totally lost it. And by the looks she was giving him and his blood pressure, at this point he wasn’t sure which one of them was going to explode first.

  He was certain his mom didn’t go to this much trouble when she had Christmas. Or maybe she did and he just wasn’t aware of it.

  He picked up his phone and dialed. His mom answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Gavin.”

  “Hi, Mom. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going very well. I’m making a coconut cream pie. And how’s it going over there?”

  “Elizabeth is losing her ever-loving mind.”

  “Really? What’s going on?”

  He filled her in on Liz’s craziness over the past few days, including his current trip to the grocery store to buy some crazy cheese and the repeat trips to buy things he’d already bought.

  “Be patient with her, Gavin. This is her first time having the family over and she wants everything to be perfect.”

  “I don’t remember you being stressed-out about having the family all these years.”

  “Well, not after doing it for thirty-some-odd years. But the first time I had Christmas for your father and his family? I broke out in hives and threw up the night before. Your poor father had to give me whiskey on Christmas Day just to calm me down.”

  He couldn’t imagine his never-ruffled mother being afraid of anything. “You did not.”

  “I did. I imagine what’s bothering Liz is just nervousness. She wants to satisfy everyone’s tastes, and unfortunately, that’s impossible to do. I’m going to finish up this pie and then drop by and see if there’s anything I can do to help, providing you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all, and I think you can do a lot to ease her mind. Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  After he hung up, he went to the store, got the cranberries and the damned cheese he couldn’t pronounce. Then he stopped at the liquor store to buy yet another couple bottles of that wine that they’d undoubtedly have on hand until the end of time.

  When he got home, Liz was bent over her laptop at the kitchen counter studying something in an online cookbook. He stored the wine and put the cheese and cranberries away. His first thought was to go hide in the basement again, but instead, he came up and kissed her on the cheek.

  She lifted her face and frowned. “What’s that for?”

  “For having the family over tomorrow. I know this isn’t easy for you and you’re going to a lot of trouble to do it.”

  “Gavin, I love your family. They’ve been my family for even longer than you and I have been together. You know how much I’ve been wanting to do this.”

  “I know. But I don’t want you to
be stressed about it.”

  She laughed. “Not much you can do about that. It’s a big deal to me and I want everything to be perfect.”

  He was about to tell her that perfection was overrated, though she likely wouldn’t have listened to him anyway, when the doorbell rang.

  Liz looked like she was about to have a panic attack. “Oh, shit. Who could possibly be here?”

  “I have no idea, but relax. Whoever it is, I’ll get rid of them.”

  “Thanks. I have to make this casserole.”

  He went to the front door and opened it.

  “Hi, sweetie.”

  “Hi, Mom.” He hugged and kissed his mother, and whispered to her, “I didn’t tell Liz I called you.”

  She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

  He followed his mother into the kitchen. When Liz looked up, she registered a combination of shock and dread. But then she managed a smile.

  “Oh. Mom. Hi.”

  “Hi, Liz. I thought maybe you could use some help.”

  Liz’s gaze flitted from his mother’s to his. And he read the panic there.

  “That sounds like a great idea, Mom,” he said. “Though I think Liz is doing a fantastic job.”

  “Of course she is, but I’m always grateful for extra hands when I’m trying to do everything.”

  Thank God for his mother. “If you all don’t need me, I’m going to get out of your way.”

  “That’s a really good idea, son. We’ll call you if we need you.”

  Liz didn’t know whether she wanted to grab on to Gavin like a lifeline or kick his ass down the basement stairs. She’d wager anything he called his mother and told her she was losing her mind.

  Which she was.

  “How’s it going here?”

  “Oh . . . fine. I have the turkey cleaned and ready to go into the oven tomorrow morning. The side dishes are plotted out and well in hand. Some I’m prepping today, and others will be done tomorrow. I’m working on hors d’oeuvres right now.”