This is a romance, the tale of Jeff and Ash. Rabbits are in there too. It takes place in the fictional town of Crooked Creek, Colorado.
I love old things, historic things. Things with an interesting past...even a disreputable past.
All over the Rockies are small defunct gold mines. Colorado's gold rush was in 1859--pretty much eclipsed by the much bigger event in California a decade earlier. When the ore played out, jobs were lost, people moved away, and some of these towns faded into oblivion.
Over the last twenty-plus years, gambling has returned prosperity to these historic places. New residents have repurposed old buildings; tourists pour in; the City Council has money to work with once again.
If you've never visited a gold town, I encourage you to do so. They're everywhere, not just in Colorado.
I hope you'll check out Rabbit Wars and see what Jeff, Ash, and Rabbits have in common.
BLURB:
After two months in Dubai supervising a construction project, architect Jefferson Fontaine returns home to find his boyfriend boffing the dog walker. Reeling, Jeff grabs his dignity and departs. The arrival of a mysterious wicker box and a letter requesting Jeff’s presence for the reading of a local entrepreneur’s will sends Jeff to his hometown of Crooked Creek, Colorado. The last thing he expects is to encounter an old flame who disappeared fifteen years ago.
After high school, Ashton Eiker hoped to start a future with the boy he loved, but his world crashed when Jeff refused to bring Ash along with him to college. Ash ran from the rejection, but returned to Crooked Creek a year ago, bringing his confectionary talents and opening a chocolate shop. When the great uncle of a childhood friend names Ash in his will, he could hardly anticipate getting a helping of his past in the mix.
Jeff and Ash jointly inherit the historic Jeremiah Rabbit House, and are forced to work together to meet the terms of the will or neither will have the mansion. It’s a battle of opinions, shared personal history, and present attraction, but the true prize isn’t the Rabbit legacy. It's the chance at something better.
BUY:
http://www.loose-id.com/eostre-s-baskets-rabbit-wars.html
Loose Id has all formats--whatever you need for your type of e-reader!
CONTACT:
www.whitleygray.com
https://www.facebook.com/whitley.gray
Monday, March 17, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
When Will I See You Again...
Today Julie Lynn Hayes treats us to an interview with the delightful Alexx from When Will I See You Again.
What
is your name and occupation? Alexx Jameson. I work at the Crescent Bay
Chronicle. In the mail room, right now,
but I hope to become a reporter there some day.
How
old are you? *looks nervously around* Twenty. Almost twenty-one. Well, next
Halloween, actually.
How
did you come by your current occupation? When I first moved to Crescent
Bay, I got lucky, and I ran into the editor, Mr. Randolph. One thing led to
another and he gave me a job.
Do
you like your job? Why or why not? I love my job. I became best friends
with the receptionist. His name is Miller. I like everyone there. Well, almost
everyone. I’m not really all that fond of Price Chancellor, I have to admit.
He’s a news reporter, and a bit of a diva. But honestly, most people aren’t
fond of him, and I think the only person he really cares for is himself.
Who
is the person/creature you dislike the most? I guess that would be
Price. *laughs*
Who
is the person/creature you respect the most? I respect Mr. Randolph a lot.
I’m grateful to him for giving me a job, and for giving me a chance to show
that I can be a reporter and not just the mail room guy. I think he’s what
makes the Chronicle the great newspaper it is. Okay, maybe it’s not the Times
or the Tribune or anything, but it’s perfect for Crescent Bay.
Is
there anyone special in your life? Well,
yeah. Kinda sorta. I mean there’s someone I’m attracted to. But who
isn’t? His name is Raoul Marchand. Yes, one of those Marchands. Most famous
supernatural family in Crescent Bay. And he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Of course,
it’s ridiculous to think that he and I... that him and me... oh never mind,
just wishful thinking.
What’s
your favorite meal, and do you fix it yourself or have someone fix it for you? I
live in a boarding house, actually, and while I do have kitchen privileges, I
try not to abuse them, so I’m more of a microwave meal kind of guy. Usually I
do stuff I don’t have to cook, and cheap take-out.
Favorite
color? I don’t really have one. I think all colors are pretty.
Football
or baseball? I’m not really into sports.
Favorite
exercise? Writing?
If
you had one wish, what would it be? That’s a hard one. If you’d asked me
that before, I’d have said becoming a reporter was my biggest wish. But since
meeting Raoul... I just want him to be... well, happy. And safe. Does that
sound too corny? I just worry, that’s all. I know I don’t have a chance with
him, but I hope he meets someone that will be good for him and not just use him
for who he is.
What
makes this Raoul so special to you?
Well, he’s drop dead gorgeous. But
it’s more than that. There’s something inside of him, something I can’t
explain. Something I want to get to know. I want to ease his suffering, make
him feel good about himself and the world around him. I know, I know, he has it
all now—looks, family, money, position. What more could he want? But I think
he’s not happy. I just want to make him happy.
When
Will I See You Again takes
place in a time when the presence of werewolves and vampires among the general
populace is known and accepted, largely because of drugs that control any baser
animal instincts. SL57 is the werewolf wonder drug, short for SomnioLupus,
otherwise known as Wolf Trank. In the small seaside town of Crescent Bay,
people come to the famous nightclub Charisma, mostly because of the charismatic
man who is one of the best-known supes in the area: Raoul Marchand. Raoul is a
regular party animal, one who lives but to have a good time, and who cares for
no one and nothing. But he hasn’t always been this way...
BLURB: Raoul Marchand is the
crown prince of Charisma, the infamous night club in Crescent Bay, renowned for
its supernatural clientele. He has the pick of any and all men, but he cares
for none. He uses them and throws them away again, and has done so for some
twenty years, in the aftermath of a tragedy that robbed him of what he loved
most in the world.
Alexx Jameson is an
idealistic young would-be reporter with the Crescent Bay Chronicle. Presented
with an opportunity to write a story on the Marchands, he eagerly grasps the
chance to be a real reporter. His friend, Chronicle receptionist Miller
Fenwick, suggests they go to Charisma to do a little research. Alexx isn’t sure
that’s such a great idea. After all, he’s still under age, being only twenty.
No problem, Miller can fix that! Added bonus, there’s a full moon tonight.
When Alexx first
encounters Raoul, it isn’t exactly in the way he dreamed of, and he’s sure he
made a terrible first impression. But Fate throws them together under
unforeseen circumstances, and the attraction between them can’t be denied. Can
Raoul let go of the past long enough to find his future with Alexx, or is he
doomed to repeat past mistakes?
Excerpt:
Alexx drew in his
breath in dismay. This wasn’t going well. Even so, he could not stop staring at
Raoul. His eyes met the other man’s. Raoul’s were very golden; he wasn’t aware
such colors even existed in the spectrum of the human eye. But then again, he
didn’t have any friends that were werewolves either. He wondered if this was a
sign that perhaps this man was about to change, right here and now?
The thought was both
exhilarating and frightening.
Alexx’s vision
telescoped until he wasn’t aware of anything but this gorgeous man in front of
him. Blood pounded in his ears and his mouth felt suddenly dry. Having lost all
sense of the others in the room, he was surprised when he felt his chair yanked
out from under him. Before he could fall, a hand grabbed the scruff of his
neck, propelling him to his feet. He glanced at his companion; Miller was being
subjected to the same surly treatment.
“You waste my time for
this?” Raoul’s upper lip curled back in a snarl. Alexx found himself wildly
attracted to him. “I have somewhere I need to be. Paolo, please show these gentlemen out.” Sarcastic much? He turned and reached for the door, but it opened
before he touched it.
A shaggy blond with
hazel eyes and a cheerful countenance stuck his head inside. “Hey Paolo—” He
interrupted himself at the sight of the occupants of the room.
Alexx heard Miller’s
sigh of relief, even as he too recognized the newcomer. He’d seen him around
the Chronicle often enough, although he’d never really spoken to him. Foster
Levine, son of the Chronicle’s owner—heir apparent and future newspaper
magnate.
Alexx’s relief quickly
changed to anxiety. What if Foster knew how old he really was? He couldn’t be
sure one way or the other, but for the sake of argument, he had to assume he
did. Would he out him to Raoul Marchand and his burly minion? Had they simply
jumped from the frying pan to be scorched by the fire?
~*~
Author Bio:
Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of
nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five
children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames
her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a
world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing
in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men
finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer
in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and
two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day.
She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and
needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues
to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places
on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind.
Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Amber
Quill Press, Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and
eXtasy Books. She is also an editor at MuseitUp.
Julie's links:
Twitter: @Shelley_runyon
Email: tothewolf.max@gmail.com
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Twelve Random Things About Me
Thought
I’d let you guys in on a few details about me—some more interesting than
others.
1.
Light
roast coffee. One cup in the morning.
2.
Last
song added to ipod: Eli Lieb—cover of “Wrecking Ball.”
3.
There
are more than six hundred books on my Kindle.
4.
Pop
is a rarity for me. Usually in July when it’s hot and I’m driving.
5.
I
keep paper and pen by the bed for those borderline conscious epiphanies.
6.
Jeans,
not khakis.
7.
I
love Clementine oranges.
8.
Two
cats—one is a Maine Coon and weighs twenty pounds!
9.
Boxer
briefs, not boxers or briefs—for the characters, that is.
10.
I
read my first M/M book in 2008—Josh Lanyon.
11. I
prefer room service to a tent in the woods.
12.
I
grew up skiing, but haven’t been in years.
Tell
me something unique about yourself!
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Z.A. Maxfield and My Heartache Cowboy
What is your name and occupation?
I’m Jimmy, ma’am. I work as a hand on the J-Bar ranch.
I’m Jimmy, ma’am. I work as a hand on the J-Bar ranch.
How old are you?
How old do I look? ‘Cause I can tell you I look pretty
good for my age. I been taking care of myself lately on account of I stopped
drinking and started eating right.
Why did you change your behavior?
I was making my friends crazy. They staged what you
might call an “Intervention” but what I’d call a great big pain in my ass.
How did you come by your current occupation?
My daddy was a bull rider. I grew up around horses and I
figured I’d make my living in the rodeo like him, but that didn’t work out. I
moved around some. Worked some spreads in Oklahoma and Texas. I guess I found
what I was looking for here at the Jenkins’ place and I just kind of stayed.
Who is the person/creature you respect the most?
I’m torn. I want to say the man I respect most is
Crandall Jenkins. I mean -- he was always real good to me. He treated me real
fair. But if I’m honest, I’d have to say Eddie Molina is the person I respect
the most. He don’t lie. He’s never once let me down. He’s my rock. I don’t know
where I’d be without Eddie. That’s a fact.
Is there anyone special in your life?
Yes ma’am there is. I ain’t gotta tell you that, do I?
You don’t have to tell me. Are you happy though?
Yes ma’am. Like I never thought I’d be. Ever. I’m a
lucky man.
What’s your favorite meal? do you fix it yourself or
have someone fix it for you?
I guess I like a big old Porterhouse steak with a baked
potato and all the trimmings. Maybe some of that dark chocolate cake for dessert.
Me and Eddie had a meal with our friend Don in Arizona and they brought me a
piece of cake the size of a dinner plate. Had chocolate chips in it. That was
some good cake. I’m learning to cook because someone seems to think we don’t
eat right. *Cough*Crispin*Cough*
Football or baseball?
I watch anything that’s on. I like Rodeo. That’s a
sport.
Favorite exercise?
Hell no. Wait. Are we talking about certain horizontal
gymnastics? ‘Cause I could stay in shape that way. I’m pretty dedicated.
Favorite holiday?
Thanksgiving is nice ‘cause of the food. Last year Emma
Crandall brought me a plate. Made me feel real special. I’m going to miss her
now she’s moved to Florida.
Favorite song?
I like that church song Rock of Ages. Don’t ask me why,
I don’t even know. I guess my mother used to sing it some.
If you had one wish, what would it be?
I wish my brother Jonah was here with us right now. I
wish I could tell him…I don’t suppose it matters what I wish. Is that all?
Sure. Thank you.
Thank you ma’am. I’m going to go get me one of those
little cakes now. I have developed a passionate sweet tooth lately.
Go ahead. There’s coffee back there too.
Now you’re talking. Thanks again.
BLURB:
Jimmy Rafferty and Eddie Molina go way back at the J-Bar
ranch. They’ve worked together, bunked together, camped out, and drank
together. So how has Jimmy failed to notice that Eddie is gay? Eddie has not
failed to notice that his friend has a serious drinking problem, and he’s
determined to help Jimmy kick the booze cold turkey.
Taking him up to a snowbound cabin to detox, Eddie is
confronted with Jimmy’s fierce denial. But the pains of withdrawal are nothing
for Jimmy compared with the heartache of denying his true feelings and his deep
longing…for the one man who cares for him more than anyone else on earth.
EXCERPT:
When I woke, I was alone and the truck wasn’t moving.
Who the hell did Eddie think he was, leaving me asleep by
myself in a truck outside in the freezing cold? My pa and my older brother,
Jonas, used to do that. We’d be on the road, and when I fell asleep, they’d
leave me in the parking lot of some dive bar or motel—just leave me asleep
outside in the dark. I’d wake up with no clue where I was, no idea if they were
coming back or if I should go in and try to find them.
My first useful thought was to look for the keys, because I
hadn’t forgotten what Eddie said. I hadn’t forgotten the plans him and boss
Malloy made for me behind my back. It would serve them right if I up and
hightailed it back to the J-Bar with Eddie’s truck and no Eddie.
No keys.
Not like that was going to stop me. Where the hell did Eddie
get the idea I’d go quietly? I slid over and tore the wiring out from under the
dash. Found what I needed without hardly even looking.
I hated waking up alone like that. Unwanted. Abandoned.
One twist. Two. Touch the wires together and the engine
should . . .
Fuck.
Nothing.
What the hell? I checked I got the proper color-coated
strands and tried again. I was frowning down at the mess of tangled wire when
someone tapped on the window behind me.
I glanced up and saw Eddie frowning down, no doubt pissed at
what I’d done to his truck. Serves you right for leaving me like that, you
prick.
“You need a working engine for that,” he told me as he
opened the door. “One that has a battery.”
“Fuck you.” I spilled out of the car ready for a fistfight.
“What?” Eddie jumped back.
“Why did you have to leave me like that? What did I ever do
to you?”
Eddie shook his head at me. “I don’t have a clue what you’re
talking about. You were sound asleep and I thought maybe you needed it.”
I took a swing at him. “I hate waking up alone in a car like
that.”
Ed plucked my fist from the air and peered at me like he was
trying to see through my skin. “I didn’t know.”
“I hate that. Left behind in the car like a damn dog. Like a
fucking duffel bag. You can’t be bothered to even wake me up and take me in out
of the fucking snow.”
Now Eddie frowned like he was thinking about it. Now, after
the fact. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. I didn’t think how you’d feel waking up alone like
that. I won’t do it again.”
“Would have served you right if I took your truck and left
you up here to walk back to civilization, wherever the hell that is. Would have
served you right if I’d died out here.”
“All right, all right. Simmer down now.”
I glared at him. “Fuck you.”
“It’s pretty civilized inside. How about you come in with
me.”
“How about you suck my fucking—”
“That’s enough.” He turned and headed toward the cabin’s
welcoming front door. “I almost didn’t bother to disable the damn thing, but I
thought on the off chance you knew what you were doing and could—”
“Which I did,” I pointed out.
“Come inside.” He jerked his chin toward the cabin like I
was a dog and I was supposed to just follow along and yip around at his heels.
I debated making a run at him, but frankly, Eddie was a
tough buzzard. He wasn’t too much older than me, just forty-two compared to my
thirty-eight. But I was a lover, not a fighter, or at least that’s how I
thought of myself. Back there on the road, Eddie had proved he wasn’t above
using violence to get his way in this, so I went along.
You’re going to have to sleep sometime.
Eddie led me into a rustic-looking cabin that seemed awful
nice for the middle of nowhere. There was a place for us to hang our hats just
inside the door, over a table with a passel of pictures on it. There were old
time black-and-whites of families and framed pictures of a good-looking man, a
pretty woman, and some kids. There were some of the kids alone, and holy cow,
there were probably a dozen pictures of Ed. He looked so young in a couple of
them, they must have been from before we met.
One of Ed and the unknown man caught my eye. Something about
the difference in height, the casual way they leaned together, the way they
looked at each other, made me think this was Ed’s friend from the road, Don.
Even though they’d both aged some since it was taken, I was almost sure of it.
No knobby hands, no weathered angel, this Don was good
looking, without a doubt. He was lanky and chiseled. He had an intelligent face
and a smile that drew the eye. He seemed sure of himself and charming. Whatever
I’d seen in the darkness outside the car had to be a trick of the light.
Ed looked so young and earnest next to him it took my breath
away. Brawny and tan, he wore a yoked Western shirt with the sleeves rolled up
past well-muscled forearms and he eyed Don like he would follow him anywhere.
And that Don, he looked like he could appreciate a guy like
Ed, as well.
Hadn’t I seen firsthand how much he did appreciate him?
~*~
Z. A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her
children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially
optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and
enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout
all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles
happen when we least expect them. If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of
four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you
can accomplish if you give up housework.”
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
A Meredith Medical Center Christmas-- Short Story
Back by popular demand...
A Christmas Eve blizzard holds the upper Midwest in its icy grip. Two paramedics are determined to brave the storm and get home for the holidays, but Mother Nature has other plans…
Larry Wolf shook his head and grinned as he cleaned out the ambulance. His partner was getting sappy around the holidays.
Jared Browning had tied together a sprig of mistletoe and a quarter-size silver star and hung the ornament from the rearview mirror.
Chief Keegan would have a fit if he thought his two paramedics were treating the ambulance like a Christmas sleigh. Larry untied the red satin ribbon and pulled the decoration from the mirror, then placed it in the center console.
The wind howled outside the hospital ambulance bay. As soon as he finished cleaning and restocking, they’d drive back to the fire station, hand off to the holiday crew, and Christmas Eve could start in earnest.
Maybe he’d stop on the way home for an Irish coffee, see if any unattached friends were hanging out at his usual haunt.
Then home. Maybe watch It’s a Wonderful Life, wrap the presents for his nieces and nephews. And tomorrow…
He grimaced. Tomorrow, to his parents’ house for dinner with his three brothers, their wives and kids. As usual, he’d be the ‘extra man’ at dinner, as his mother called him. Since it was Christmas, she wouldn’t surprise him with a date.
The holidays were the pits when you were single. No wonder people got depressed.
He finished stocking the overhead bins.
Jared walked into the heated ambulance bay. “Hey, ready to go?”
“Yeah, no thanks to you. We’re stocked and locked.” He jumped down from the back of the ambulance and slammed the doors shut. “Let’s go.”
“Snowing like mad out there,” Jared said, sliding into the shotgun seat. “You want me to drive?”
Larry buckled his seat belt and hit the remote to raise the emergency vehicle garage door. “You drove last time.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jared settled back in his seat. “Hey! What did you do with my ornament?”
“In the console. You know Keegan doesn’t go for that stuff.”
“But that’s my Christmas wishing star.”
Larry grinned as he shifted into drive and steered the rig out into the swirling snow. “A what?”
“A wishing star. Gonna ask Santa for something special.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like a girl for my partner.” Jared smirked.
Larry blew out a gusty sigh. Jared was happily married, with two kids and one on the way. At work, too, Larry was the ‘extra man.’ He punched the remote, and the door of bay number three closed behind them. He started down the ramp, away from the Emergency Department.
Jared tightened his seatbelt. “Man. It’s really coming down. Can’t hardly see the road. Bet the highway’s bad.”
Larry gripped the steering wheel. “The firehouse is only two miles outside of town. I’ll have you back in no time, and then you’re home to Cindy and the kids.”
In town, traffic had dwindled to almost nothing. Larry turned onto Highway 61 and headed for Fire Station number 22. He took a deep breath and left the city behind. Gonna be a white knuckler, driving in this.
The blizzard raged around them as they crawled along. The hurricane of snow, now unobstructed by buildings, obliterated visibility and screeched like a polar bear in pain. The vehicle rocked in the wind.
Larry caught a glimpse of Jared wrapping his fingers around one of the grab handles on the doorjamb.
“My driving making you nervous?”
“This storm’s making me nervous. Maybe we shouldn’t have left the hospital.”
Larry squeezed the wheel. “We’ll make it.”
“Yeah, but—”
The sound of tearing metal ripped through the underside of the cab. The ambulance listed sideways and jolted to a stop, and the dashboard lights went out and the headlights dimmed.
“Shit! What was that?” Larry’s gaze flew to the side view mirror. Nothing but white showed at the windows.
“Whatever it was, it’s not good.” Jared pulled on his door handle, and nothing happened. “Door’s jammed.”
Larry reached for the radio handset and clicked the mike, then turned the knobs on the console. “Radio’s dead. How about the computer?”
Jared tapped the keys. “Nada. No Wi-Fi.”
Larry groaned. “Cell phone.”
They pulled out their phones.
“No bars,” they said in unison.
“Shit.” Larry pulled two flashlights out of the console and handed one to Jared, who uncharacteristically cussed.
“Yeah shit. Now what?”
“We wait.”
“I could walk for help—”
“No. Too dangerous, and Cindy would kill me if I let you.”
Jared opened the console and pulled out the wishing star.
Larry raised an eyebrow. “What’re you doing?”
“As bad as this storm is, we need all the help we can get. Better make a wish.”
Larry grinned in spite of himself. “Just a big kid, aren’t you, Browning?”
“Hey. Whatever it takes.” He tied the star to the rearview.
Jared was right. They weren’t going anywhere without help.
Like magic, a light reflected in the driver’s side mirror. The light grew and stopped next to them.
Larry stared. “What in the—”
Jared peered out Larry’s window. “It’s a plow.”
A gloved hand knocked on their door.
Larry lowered the window. Snow whirled in and stole the heat.
The plow driver stood there bundled up in heavy clothes. “You boys stuck?”
“Yeah.” The wind whisked away Larry’s words. “Can you give one of us a lift to the fire station down by the wildlife preserve?”
Jared grabbed his arm. “We’ll both go.”
Larry shook his head. “I’ll stay with the ambulance. You go and have them bring a tow truck.”
“Larry, you need to—”
“Time’s a wastin’!” yelled the plow driver. “I can’t stop for long, boys!”
“I’ll be fine,” Larry said. “You’ll be back in no time.”
Jared shrugged into his parka, pulled on his gloves, and clambered across Larry to the driver’s side door. “We’ll be back soon. Stay in the vehicle. No Superman stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go,” Larry yelled.
Jared and the plow driver disappeared. The light moved away from the ambulance, swallowed up in the storm.
Cold infiltrated the cab, and Larry tried the engine. The starter didn’t turn over. Hell. Now he couldn’t run the heater.
“Must’ve damaged something big,” he muttered. He punched on the hazard lights. The yellow triangle flashed as he uneasily watched the dense flakes turn red in the emergency lights. Maybe he should have gone with them. The emergency vehicle belonged to the county, not him, and it could be awhile. Damn it, he’d counted on the heater.
If another plow came along, he’d hitch a ride.
He zipped his heavy winter coat up to the collar and shoved his hands into his gloves, then swung between the front seats into the back of the ambulance.
Nothing looked out of place, even though the vehicle leaned toward the passenger side. He shined the flashlight into one of the wall bins and pulled out a couple of fleece blankets, then tested the battery-operated silver warming wrap. He flipped the switch, and a green light came on, then slowly faded.
“Aw, hell.” The only other heat source. He wrapped up in a fleece, then sat on the gurney.
What a way to spend Christmas Eve.
What difference did that make, Christmas Eve? Not like he had big plans, or someone to get home to, like Jared.
At least the ‘extra man’ would have a good story for Christmas dinner tomorrow.
Assuming he got out of this alive.
Way to be morbid, Wolf.
His breath steamed out, hanging in small clouds in the frigid air. Better get the other fleece. Wrapped in the two blankets, he stepped up to the cab and settled in the driver’s seat. The cold had seeped into the ambulance, and another shiver went through him. A yawn stretched his jaw.Maybe he’d just close his eyes for awhile…
No. Couldn’t sleep. Might get hypothermia or frostbite if it got too cold in here. If he just had his MP3 player, or something to keep him awake. He groaned. What he wouldn’t give for a steaming cup of coffee right now. The warmth had dissipated, and his breath looked like smoke. How long could he stay here without heat?
The blizzard formed mesmerizing patterns like an enormous pinwheel. Absolutely hypnotic. He blinked, then again, and each blink longer than the last, until his lids stayed closed.
A knock on the window jolted him awake.
A figure in red tapped on the glass.
Larry blew out a breath. Thank God. Another plow. Time to get out of here.
He clicked on the flashlight and pushed the door open. Instead of a plow driver, the light illuminated a young woman wrapped in a scarlet parka.
“My car,” she yelled over the wind.
“Get in,” Larry shouted.
The woman stepped on the running board and launched herself into Larry’s lap, and he slammed the door closed. She wriggled, and the friction woke up his cock.
Whoa. Hadn’t felt that in awhile.
The woman swiveled and moved into Jared’s seat, brushing snow off her shoulders. In the glow of his flashlight, she pulled off her hat. Damp auburn hair cascaded around her shoulders. She turned to face him, and his breath caught. The beam revealed a face like an angel. Wide brown eyes, full kissable lips. A gorgeous smile.
A Christmas angel. Maybe there was something to this wishing star business.
Get your mind off your dick, Wolf. This isn’t a date.
“I’m Larry.” His breath puffed out in a white mist, and he freed one hand from a glove to shake.
“Holly. Thanks for letting me in. My car got stuck and the engine died.” She pulled off her mittens and shook his hand.
Her fingers were icy in his. With the flashlight, Larry inspected her skin: waxy white. “Dangerous to be out in this weather. How far did you walk?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like miles.”
Larry leaned in to study her fingertips, and bumped foreheads with Holly. He felt the blood rush to his face. “Sorry. Do your hands hurt?”
A shiver ran through her. “Um, they’re pretty much numb.”
Bad sign. Larry grimaced. “Can I look at your feet?”
She raised an eyebrow, then pulled off her wet boots and socks. Her feet had the same bloodless tallow appearance as her hands.
Larry caught her eyes. “I think you have early frostbite. We need to get you warmed up right away.”
He held her hands between his, feeling the tremors running through her. She was going to think he was trying to get into her pants when she heard the solution. “You need to get out of these wet clothes.”
Her liquid brown eyes widened.
“I swear it’s not a come-on. You’re… you’re safe with me.”
She appraised him in the dim light, then nodded.
Well, that had been easy. He gestured with the flashlight. “In the back.”
Holly swung between the seats, stepped through into the patient area, and sat on the bench.
Larry laid the flashlight next to her and pulled out a fleece blanket and a set of blue scrubs. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”
Holly’s gaze dropped to his lips for a second, then met his eyes. Larry felt a stirring in his groin. Why did he have to meet her like this?
“Larry?”
Her voice carried a husky note, and more blood headed south to his cock. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me with my clothes? I can’t feel my hands.”
More heat warmed his face and his groin. No wonder there wasn’t enough blood left for his brain. He leaned in and unzipped her wet parka, then pushed it off her shoulders.
Cool lips touched his. The flashlight rolled off the bench and spun crazily across the floor like an emergency light. Her mouth was soft but without the expected warmth; still, his body reacted immediately. His cock hardened to steel.
Larry threaded his fingers through her damp hair and inhaled as he kissed her. She smelled so good. Like cinnamon and vanilla. Like sugar cookies. Good enough to eat.
Eat her. Damn.
As if she read his thoughts, Holly pulled back. “Sorry. Your hands are so warm, I just wanted to...”
“No problem. I… liked warming you.” He grinned.
She peeled a wet turtleneck over her head, revealing a red satin bra.
He swallowed hard. Was this really happening? Was he enough of a professional to do this, after she kissed him? He grabbed the light off the floor, and stood it upright on the bench like a torch.
Holly got to her feet. “Can you help me with my jeans?”
Larry complied and stripped off the slush-soaked denim, uncovering a matching red thong. He groaned. At eye level, a near-naked woman’s sex hid behind a thin layer of satin. He could smell her. He could almost taste her. A shiver ran through him, part cold, part desire.
He stood, grabbed a fleece blanket and wrapped it around her, then flipped back the sheets and blankets on the bed. “Get in.”
Holly curled up on the thick mattress of the gurney, and he pulled the covers over her. She turned to face the wall. “God, I’m freezing!”
He lay down on top of the bedding next to her and draped the second fleece over them along with the unheated shock blanket. Larry spooned around her and rubbed her arm. No warmth radiated through the sheets and the fleece.
Holly snuggled against the hollow of his body, and her butt bumped his engorged cock. He tensed.
Did she feel that? Hard to hide something that obvious. What would it be like to— no. Don’t push against her, just warm her up. Forget about sex.
Holly rolled over to face him. Her teeth chattered. “I’m s-s-soooo c-cold.”
Hypothermia. Larry swallowed. “I’m worried about your core body temperature. I need to get you warm.”
Holly nodded.
“The best way to do that is to take off our clothes and share body heat.”
She shivered. “Okay.”
Wow. That was fast. “You sure?”
“Yes. Please, Larry. I’m so cold.”
He swung off the bed, shrugged out of his parka, then stripped off his two shirts. The cold slapped him like an icy hand, and his nipples tightened. Holly gazed up at him as she shook with cold. He kicked off his boots, then turned his back to shuck his jeans, feeling his face heat again as soon as he unzipped.
Of course, he’d picked today to wear the boxer briefs with little candy canes all over them, and the phrase “Welcome to the North Pole” across the front. He’d never take another dare from his oldest brother regarding underwear. His erection strained at the material. He held his parka in front of him and pivoted.
Holly whipped the covers back and invited him into bed, not commenting on his boxers or his pole.
He slid in with her, then pulled out the parka and spread it over them. He hadn’t been this naked with a woman for... well, a long time. Holly cuddled into his chest and belly and he rubbed her back as he kept his groin out of range.
Her cool palm rubbed his erection.
He gasped, and his resolve crumbled.
This time, he brought his mouth down on hers, hot and hungry. His tongue slipped between her lips. God, she even tasted like sugar cookies, this ice angel.
Did she taste like this…everywhere? Another wave of desire traveled down to his cock.
He moved his mouth down to her neck, and then to her red satin bra. Holly rolled to her back and unsnapped the front closure, and he groaned as the thing parted, revealing pale breasts in the low light.
Her nipples looked like gumdrops, and he closed his lips around one peak, suckled. Sweet as a lollipop. Holly whimpered.
Starting to feel warm in here, at least to him. His inner furnace roared, ready to warm her inside and out.
Under the covers, he kissed his way down her chilly stomach, blew warm air into her belly button, then peeked up at her. “Holly.”
“Mmm?”
“Did you know an orgasm can burn up to three hundred calories and generate heat?”
“Maybe we should try that.”
Under the covers, he drew off her thong and pushed off his briefs.
With care, he rolled between her legs and urged her knees apart, and smoothed his thumbs up her inner thighs to her center. Here, heat greeted his questing fingers. Had to get a taste.
As he licked up her cleft, vanilla and sugar flavors melted on his tongue, drawing a deep groan from him and a sigh from Holly. Just like a Christmas cookie. The next laps he teased her clit until she arched, and gripped his head.
He gently bit down, and she cried out. Tremors ran through her, this time induced by orgasm instead of cold. Larry shook with his need and shivered with her.
They should conserve the heat. He moved back up her body and curled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Warmth hovered in the scant space between them. His cock basked in the close proximity, wanting to try out the hot glove of Holly’s body.
Cool fingers closed on his erection. He jumped.
“Wow. You’re still cold.”
She let go. “Sorry.”
“’S okay. Give me your hands.”
He flattened her palms against his chest, gritting his teeth against the cold, holding them there until her hands felt warm.
“Can you flex your fingers?”
She made a fist, then opened her fingers like a flower. “They feel hot, like pins and needles. Prickly. Not painful.”
He kissed her palm. “Sounds like you’re thawing out.”
“Does this feel better?” Her fingers stroked his erection. This time, electric pleasure spread out from his groin. Holly squeezed gently, moved up and down.
His hips flexed, and he pushed into her hand. “Are your fingers okay? You don’t have to—”
Holly pressed a finger to his lips, and swung her leg over his hip. “I want you to warm me. Inside.”
His cock throbbed at her words. How could he possibly refuse her? He slid his thigh between hers, pressing on her core.
She moaned. “Do you have protection?”
Larry nodded and snaked an arm out and pulled his wallet from his jeans. Thank God he still carried the two foil packets. They were cold as snow, and he held them in his hand until they warmed. Holly took one and tore the foil, then rolled the latex down his cock.
Larry covered her with his body and devoured her mouth as his skin heated hers. His shaft rubbed against her cleft, and a delicious tightening curled at the small of his back.
“Warm enough?” he panted.
She wrapped her arms against his neck. “Getting there.”
Larry guided his cock to her opening and pushed inside. She gasped at his entry, and he froze.
“You okay, Holly?” God, could he even stop now?
“You’re… very warm. And big.”
He chuckled and pulled his hips back, then thrust again. Holly’s fingers smoothed his hair off his forehead, and she pulled him down for an open-mouthed kiss, her lips now warm and supple. Her tongue came forward to meet his, sliding along his, hot and smooth. Larry shifted his weight to one forearm and cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb across the nipple.
Her skin had warmed, and his cock thickened inside her. Holly moaned. God, he loved that sound. So sexy.
As he found a rhythm, her hips rose to meet his. Larry reached between them and thumbed her clit, drawing moans from her until she hit her climax, calling his name as she shuddered.
He didn’t last long, coming hard inside her.
After he got his breath, he pulled out.
“Are you warm?” he whispered.
“Very warm. Feels good.”
He kissed her. “Good.” A hell of a way to stave off hypothermia and frostbite. But worth it. Definitely worth it.
~*~
Jared breathed a sigh of relief when the ambulance came into view, half buried in a snow drift. As soon as the plow stopped, he jumped out and waded to the driver’s door. Locked.
He hammered on the window. “Larry! You in there?”
His partner’s head appeared around the corner, then Larry stepped into the front, dressed in his shirts and wrapped in a fleece. He pushed open the door.
“Jared. Man, am I glad to see you. I have—”
Jared pushed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. “Sorry it took so long, buddy. Let’s get you out of here. Where’s your coat, man?”
“There’s a girl here too. Her car got stuck in the snow.”
Jared raised his eyebrows. How in the hell had she made it through the blizzard to the ambulance? “Okaaaay. Let’s get both of you out of here.”
A girl in blue hospital scrubs and Larry’s coat appeared over Larry’s shoulder. “Hi. I’m Holly.”
Jared grinned. “Let’s go.”
~*~
The morning after Christmas, Jared inspected the retrieved ambulance at the fire station. No apparent damage and the thing started right up.
Huh.
He opened the back doors, and began the cleanup. Larry had apparently utilized every sheet and fleece to warm up the girl. Lucky she’d found Larry, or she might have died.
Larry had invited her to Christmas dinner at his folks. Jared shook his head. No extra man this holiday for Larry. Quite a gift from Santa.
Jared stripped the gurney. Tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed was a red satin thong.
Jared stared for a moment, then grinned. “Wishes do come true.”
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Copyright © 2010 Whitley Gray
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
A Christmas Eve blizzard holds the upper Midwest in its icy grip. Two paramedics are determined to brave the storm and get home for the holidays, but Mother Nature has other plans…
Larry Wolf shook his head and grinned as he cleaned out the ambulance. His partner was getting sappy around the holidays.
Jared Browning had tied together a sprig of mistletoe and a quarter-size silver star and hung the ornament from the rearview mirror.
Chief Keegan would have a fit if he thought his two paramedics were treating the ambulance like a Christmas sleigh. Larry untied the red satin ribbon and pulled the decoration from the mirror, then placed it in the center console.
The wind howled outside the hospital ambulance bay. As soon as he finished cleaning and restocking, they’d drive back to the fire station, hand off to the holiday crew, and Christmas Eve could start in earnest.
Maybe he’d stop on the way home for an Irish coffee, see if any unattached friends were hanging out at his usual haunt.
Then home. Maybe watch It’s a Wonderful Life, wrap the presents for his nieces and nephews. And tomorrow…
He grimaced. Tomorrow, to his parents’ house for dinner with his three brothers, their wives and kids. As usual, he’d be the ‘extra man’ at dinner, as his mother called him. Since it was Christmas, she wouldn’t surprise him with a date.
The holidays were the pits when you were single. No wonder people got depressed.
He finished stocking the overhead bins.
Jared walked into the heated ambulance bay. “Hey, ready to go?”
“Yeah, no thanks to you. We’re stocked and locked.” He jumped down from the back of the ambulance and slammed the doors shut. “Let’s go.”
“Snowing like mad out there,” Jared said, sliding into the shotgun seat. “You want me to drive?”
Larry buckled his seat belt and hit the remote to raise the emergency vehicle garage door. “You drove last time.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jared settled back in his seat. “Hey! What did you do with my ornament?”
“In the console. You know Keegan doesn’t go for that stuff.”
“But that’s my Christmas wishing star.”
Larry grinned as he shifted into drive and steered the rig out into the swirling snow. “A what?”
“A wishing star. Gonna ask Santa for something special.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like a girl for my partner.” Jared smirked.
Larry blew out a gusty sigh. Jared was happily married, with two kids and one on the way. At work, too, Larry was the ‘extra man.’ He punched the remote, and the door of bay number three closed behind them. He started down the ramp, away from the Emergency Department.
Jared tightened his seatbelt. “Man. It’s really coming down. Can’t hardly see the road. Bet the highway’s bad.”
Larry gripped the steering wheel. “The firehouse is only two miles outside of town. I’ll have you back in no time, and then you’re home to Cindy and the kids.”
In town, traffic had dwindled to almost nothing. Larry turned onto Highway 61 and headed for Fire Station number 22. He took a deep breath and left the city behind. Gonna be a white knuckler, driving in this.
The blizzard raged around them as they crawled along. The hurricane of snow, now unobstructed by buildings, obliterated visibility and screeched like a polar bear in pain. The vehicle rocked in the wind.
Larry caught a glimpse of Jared wrapping his fingers around one of the grab handles on the doorjamb.
“My driving making you nervous?”
“This storm’s making me nervous. Maybe we shouldn’t have left the hospital.”
Larry squeezed the wheel. “We’ll make it.”
“Yeah, but—”
The sound of tearing metal ripped through the underside of the cab. The ambulance listed sideways and jolted to a stop, and the dashboard lights went out and the headlights dimmed.
“Shit! What was that?” Larry’s gaze flew to the side view mirror. Nothing but white showed at the windows.
“Whatever it was, it’s not good.” Jared pulled on his door handle, and nothing happened. “Door’s jammed.”
Larry reached for the radio handset and clicked the mike, then turned the knobs on the console. “Radio’s dead. How about the computer?”
Jared tapped the keys. “Nada. No Wi-Fi.”
Larry groaned. “Cell phone.”
They pulled out their phones.
“No bars,” they said in unison.
“Shit.” Larry pulled two flashlights out of the console and handed one to Jared, who uncharacteristically cussed.
“Yeah shit. Now what?”
“We wait.”
“I could walk for help—”
“No. Too dangerous, and Cindy would kill me if I let you.”
Jared opened the console and pulled out the wishing star.
Larry raised an eyebrow. “What’re you doing?”
“As bad as this storm is, we need all the help we can get. Better make a wish.”
Larry grinned in spite of himself. “Just a big kid, aren’t you, Browning?”
“Hey. Whatever it takes.” He tied the star to the rearview.
Jared was right. They weren’t going anywhere without help.
Like magic, a light reflected in the driver’s side mirror. The light grew and stopped next to them.
Larry stared. “What in the—”
Jared peered out Larry’s window. “It’s a plow.”
A gloved hand knocked on their door.
Larry lowered the window. Snow whirled in and stole the heat.
The plow driver stood there bundled up in heavy clothes. “You boys stuck?”
“Yeah.” The wind whisked away Larry’s words. “Can you give one of us a lift to the fire station down by the wildlife preserve?”
Jared grabbed his arm. “We’ll both go.”
Larry shook his head. “I’ll stay with the ambulance. You go and have them bring a tow truck.”
“Larry, you need to—”
“Time’s a wastin’!” yelled the plow driver. “I can’t stop for long, boys!”
“I’ll be fine,” Larry said. “You’ll be back in no time.”
Jared shrugged into his parka, pulled on his gloves, and clambered across Larry to the driver’s side door. “We’ll be back soon. Stay in the vehicle. No Superman stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go,” Larry yelled.
Jared and the plow driver disappeared. The light moved away from the ambulance, swallowed up in the storm.
Cold infiltrated the cab, and Larry tried the engine. The starter didn’t turn over. Hell. Now he couldn’t run the heater.
“Must’ve damaged something big,” he muttered. He punched on the hazard lights. The yellow triangle flashed as he uneasily watched the dense flakes turn red in the emergency lights. Maybe he should have gone with them. The emergency vehicle belonged to the county, not him, and it could be awhile. Damn it, he’d counted on the heater.
If another plow came along, he’d hitch a ride.
He zipped his heavy winter coat up to the collar and shoved his hands into his gloves, then swung between the front seats into the back of the ambulance.
Nothing looked out of place, even though the vehicle leaned toward the passenger side. He shined the flashlight into one of the wall bins and pulled out a couple of fleece blankets, then tested the battery-operated silver warming wrap. He flipped the switch, and a green light came on, then slowly faded.
“Aw, hell.” The only other heat source. He wrapped up in a fleece, then sat on the gurney.
What a way to spend Christmas Eve.
What difference did that make, Christmas Eve? Not like he had big plans, or someone to get home to, like Jared.
At least the ‘extra man’ would have a good story for Christmas dinner tomorrow.
Assuming he got out of this alive.
Way to be morbid, Wolf.
His breath steamed out, hanging in small clouds in the frigid air. Better get the other fleece. Wrapped in the two blankets, he stepped up to the cab and settled in the driver’s seat. The cold had seeped into the ambulance, and another shiver went through him. A yawn stretched his jaw.Maybe he’d just close his eyes for awhile…
No. Couldn’t sleep. Might get hypothermia or frostbite if it got too cold in here. If he just had his MP3 player, or something to keep him awake. He groaned. What he wouldn’t give for a steaming cup of coffee right now. The warmth had dissipated, and his breath looked like smoke. How long could he stay here without heat?
The blizzard formed mesmerizing patterns like an enormous pinwheel. Absolutely hypnotic. He blinked, then again, and each blink longer than the last, until his lids stayed closed.
A knock on the window jolted him awake.
A figure in red tapped on the glass.
Larry blew out a breath. Thank God. Another plow. Time to get out of here.
He clicked on the flashlight and pushed the door open. Instead of a plow driver, the light illuminated a young woman wrapped in a scarlet parka.
“My car,” she yelled over the wind.
“Get in,” Larry shouted.
The woman stepped on the running board and launched herself into Larry’s lap, and he slammed the door closed. She wriggled, and the friction woke up his cock.
Whoa. Hadn’t felt that in awhile.
The woman swiveled and moved into Jared’s seat, brushing snow off her shoulders. In the glow of his flashlight, she pulled off her hat. Damp auburn hair cascaded around her shoulders. She turned to face him, and his breath caught. The beam revealed a face like an angel. Wide brown eyes, full kissable lips. A gorgeous smile.
A Christmas angel. Maybe there was something to this wishing star business.
Get your mind off your dick, Wolf. This isn’t a date.
“I’m Larry.” His breath puffed out in a white mist, and he freed one hand from a glove to shake.
“Holly. Thanks for letting me in. My car got stuck and the engine died.” She pulled off her mittens and shook his hand.
Her fingers were icy in his. With the flashlight, Larry inspected her skin: waxy white. “Dangerous to be out in this weather. How far did you walk?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like miles.”
Larry leaned in to study her fingertips, and bumped foreheads with Holly. He felt the blood rush to his face. “Sorry. Do your hands hurt?”
A shiver ran through her. “Um, they’re pretty much numb.”
Bad sign. Larry grimaced. “Can I look at your feet?”
She raised an eyebrow, then pulled off her wet boots and socks. Her feet had the same bloodless tallow appearance as her hands.
Larry caught her eyes. “I think you have early frostbite. We need to get you warmed up right away.”
He held her hands between his, feeling the tremors running through her. She was going to think he was trying to get into her pants when she heard the solution. “You need to get out of these wet clothes.”
Her liquid brown eyes widened.
“I swear it’s not a come-on. You’re… you’re safe with me.”
She appraised him in the dim light, then nodded.
Well, that had been easy. He gestured with the flashlight. “In the back.”
Holly swung between the seats, stepped through into the patient area, and sat on the bench.
Larry laid the flashlight next to her and pulled out a fleece blanket and a set of blue scrubs. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”
Holly’s gaze dropped to his lips for a second, then met his eyes. Larry felt a stirring in his groin. Why did he have to meet her like this?
“Larry?”
Her voice carried a husky note, and more blood headed south to his cock. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me with my clothes? I can’t feel my hands.”
More heat warmed his face and his groin. No wonder there wasn’t enough blood left for his brain. He leaned in and unzipped her wet parka, then pushed it off her shoulders.
Cool lips touched his. The flashlight rolled off the bench and spun crazily across the floor like an emergency light. Her mouth was soft but without the expected warmth; still, his body reacted immediately. His cock hardened to steel.
Larry threaded his fingers through her damp hair and inhaled as he kissed her. She smelled so good. Like cinnamon and vanilla. Like sugar cookies. Good enough to eat.
Eat her. Damn.
As if she read his thoughts, Holly pulled back. “Sorry. Your hands are so warm, I just wanted to...”
“No problem. I… liked warming you.” He grinned.
She peeled a wet turtleneck over her head, revealing a red satin bra.
He swallowed hard. Was this really happening? Was he enough of a professional to do this, after she kissed him? He grabbed the light off the floor, and stood it upright on the bench like a torch.
Holly got to her feet. “Can you help me with my jeans?”
Larry complied and stripped off the slush-soaked denim, uncovering a matching red thong. He groaned. At eye level, a near-naked woman’s sex hid behind a thin layer of satin. He could smell her. He could almost taste her. A shiver ran through him, part cold, part desire.
He stood, grabbed a fleece blanket and wrapped it around her, then flipped back the sheets and blankets on the bed. “Get in.”
Holly curled up on the thick mattress of the gurney, and he pulled the covers over her. She turned to face the wall. “God, I’m freezing!”
He lay down on top of the bedding next to her and draped the second fleece over them along with the unheated shock blanket. Larry spooned around her and rubbed her arm. No warmth radiated through the sheets and the fleece.
Holly snuggled against the hollow of his body, and her butt bumped his engorged cock. He tensed.
Did she feel that? Hard to hide something that obvious. What would it be like to— no. Don’t push against her, just warm her up. Forget about sex.
Holly rolled over to face him. Her teeth chattered. “I’m s-s-soooo c-cold.”
Hypothermia. Larry swallowed. “I’m worried about your core body temperature. I need to get you warm.”
Holly nodded.
“The best way to do that is to take off our clothes and share body heat.”
She shivered. “Okay.”
Wow. That was fast. “You sure?”
“Yes. Please, Larry. I’m so cold.”
He swung off the bed, shrugged out of his parka, then stripped off his two shirts. The cold slapped him like an icy hand, and his nipples tightened. Holly gazed up at him as she shook with cold. He kicked off his boots, then turned his back to shuck his jeans, feeling his face heat again as soon as he unzipped.
Of course, he’d picked today to wear the boxer briefs with little candy canes all over them, and the phrase “Welcome to the North Pole” across the front. He’d never take another dare from his oldest brother regarding underwear. His erection strained at the material. He held his parka in front of him and pivoted.
Holly whipped the covers back and invited him into bed, not commenting on his boxers or his pole.
He slid in with her, then pulled out the parka and spread it over them. He hadn’t been this naked with a woman for... well, a long time. Holly cuddled into his chest and belly and he rubbed her back as he kept his groin out of range.
Her cool palm rubbed his erection.
He gasped, and his resolve crumbled.
This time, he brought his mouth down on hers, hot and hungry. His tongue slipped between her lips. God, she even tasted like sugar cookies, this ice angel.
Did she taste like this…everywhere? Another wave of desire traveled down to his cock.
He moved his mouth down to her neck, and then to her red satin bra. Holly rolled to her back and unsnapped the front closure, and he groaned as the thing parted, revealing pale breasts in the low light.
Her nipples looked like gumdrops, and he closed his lips around one peak, suckled. Sweet as a lollipop. Holly whimpered.
Starting to feel warm in here, at least to him. His inner furnace roared, ready to warm her inside and out.
Under the covers, he kissed his way down her chilly stomach, blew warm air into her belly button, then peeked up at her. “Holly.”
“Mmm?”
“Did you know an orgasm can burn up to three hundred calories and generate heat?”
“Maybe we should try that.”
Under the covers, he drew off her thong and pushed off his briefs.
With care, he rolled between her legs and urged her knees apart, and smoothed his thumbs up her inner thighs to her center. Here, heat greeted his questing fingers. Had to get a taste.
As he licked up her cleft, vanilla and sugar flavors melted on his tongue, drawing a deep groan from him and a sigh from Holly. Just like a Christmas cookie. The next laps he teased her clit until she arched, and gripped his head.
He gently bit down, and she cried out. Tremors ran through her, this time induced by orgasm instead of cold. Larry shook with his need and shivered with her.
They should conserve the heat. He moved back up her body and curled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Warmth hovered in the scant space between them. His cock basked in the close proximity, wanting to try out the hot glove of Holly’s body.
Cool fingers closed on his erection. He jumped.
“Wow. You’re still cold.”
She let go. “Sorry.”
“’S okay. Give me your hands.”
He flattened her palms against his chest, gritting his teeth against the cold, holding them there until her hands felt warm.
“Can you flex your fingers?”
She made a fist, then opened her fingers like a flower. “They feel hot, like pins and needles. Prickly. Not painful.”
He kissed her palm. “Sounds like you’re thawing out.”
“Does this feel better?” Her fingers stroked his erection. This time, electric pleasure spread out from his groin. Holly squeezed gently, moved up and down.
His hips flexed, and he pushed into her hand. “Are your fingers okay? You don’t have to—”
Holly pressed a finger to his lips, and swung her leg over his hip. “I want you to warm me. Inside.”
His cock throbbed at her words. How could he possibly refuse her? He slid his thigh between hers, pressing on her core.
She moaned. “Do you have protection?”
Larry nodded and snaked an arm out and pulled his wallet from his jeans. Thank God he still carried the two foil packets. They were cold as snow, and he held them in his hand until they warmed. Holly took one and tore the foil, then rolled the latex down his cock.
Larry covered her with his body and devoured her mouth as his skin heated hers. His shaft rubbed against her cleft, and a delicious tightening curled at the small of his back.
“Warm enough?” he panted.
She wrapped her arms against his neck. “Getting there.”
Larry guided his cock to her opening and pushed inside. She gasped at his entry, and he froze.
“You okay, Holly?” God, could he even stop now?
“You’re… very warm. And big.”
He chuckled and pulled his hips back, then thrust again. Holly’s fingers smoothed his hair off his forehead, and she pulled him down for an open-mouthed kiss, her lips now warm and supple. Her tongue came forward to meet his, sliding along his, hot and smooth. Larry shifted his weight to one forearm and cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb across the nipple.
Her skin had warmed, and his cock thickened inside her. Holly moaned. God, he loved that sound. So sexy.
As he found a rhythm, her hips rose to meet his. Larry reached between them and thumbed her clit, drawing moans from her until she hit her climax, calling his name as she shuddered.
He didn’t last long, coming hard inside her.
After he got his breath, he pulled out.
“Are you warm?” he whispered.
“Very warm. Feels good.”
He kissed her. “Good.” A hell of a way to stave off hypothermia and frostbite. But worth it. Definitely worth it.
~*~
Jared breathed a sigh of relief when the ambulance came into view, half buried in a snow drift. As soon as the plow stopped, he jumped out and waded to the driver’s door. Locked.
He hammered on the window. “Larry! You in there?”
His partner’s head appeared around the corner, then Larry stepped into the front, dressed in his shirts and wrapped in a fleece. He pushed open the door.
“Jared. Man, am I glad to see you. I have—”
Jared pushed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. “Sorry it took so long, buddy. Let’s get you out of here. Where’s your coat, man?”
“There’s a girl here too. Her car got stuck in the snow.”
Jared raised his eyebrows. How in the hell had she made it through the blizzard to the ambulance? “Okaaaay. Let’s get both of you out of here.”
A girl in blue hospital scrubs and Larry’s coat appeared over Larry’s shoulder. “Hi. I’m Holly.”
Jared grinned. “Let’s go.”
~*~
The morning after Christmas, Jared inspected the retrieved ambulance at the fire station. No apparent damage and the thing started right up.
Huh.
He opened the back doors, and began the cleanup. Larry had apparently utilized every sheet and fleece to warm up the girl. Lucky she’d found Larry, or she might have died.
Larry had invited her to Christmas dinner at his folks. Jared shook his head. No extra man this holiday for Larry. Quite a gift from Santa.
Jared stripped the gurney. Tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed was a red satin thong.
Jared stared for a moment, then grinned. “Wishes do come true.”
Buy all fourteen MMC stories at Amazon: Everything Erotic
NEW! Midwinter Night's Dream a Christmas story from Loose Id On Amazon
www.whitleygray.com
Copyright © 2010 Whitley Gray
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Christmas Blog Hop--Midwinter Night's Dream
Midwinter
Night’s Dream—a Christmas Story Coming December 10th from Loose Id!
Meet Errol Lockhart, and learn a bit about him and his relationship with Joe.
Describe yourself in four
words.
Determined. Loyal. Romantic. Creative.
Boxers, briefs, or
commando?
Weeell, considering Joe worked for a high-end underwear company, I’d have to
say designer briefs by Escalade. Before that it was a gold thong for work. If
you want the details, you’ll have to read it yourself—too embarrassing!
Favorite food? Ordinarily I’d say
anything—beggars can’t be choosers. Joe is a much better cook than I am, and I really
like Joe’s five-alarm chili. He fixes it at the fire house about once a month.
I’ve eaten enough Ramen noodles to last me a lifetime.
What about Joe makes
you crazy in a bad way? Joe is a great guy, but he can take overprotective to a new
level. Getting him to understand he doesn’t have to keep the bad things away
all the time is one of the things we’re working on. As far as a bad thing,
though, it’s endearing. He means well, and I love that about him.
BLURB:
Two years ago,
Joe Blake lost his secret lover, firefighter Bryce Marshall. Grieving, Joe left
his job as a fireman and paramedic to become the spokesmodel for undergarment
company Escalade. They lured him into the limelight and drove him deeper into
the closet. Modeling doesn't provide fulfillment; Joe wants privacy and to feel
useful again. A holiday at his mountain cabin outside Denver is the perfect
escape. The last thing he anticipated, or wanted, was sharing his retreat with
another man.
Last Christmas, actor Errol Lockhart discovered boyfriend Carson had stolen a play. Carson accused Errol and then blackballed him in the theater community. Some Christmas that was. Now Errol has to take whatever work he can to survive. Delivering a singing telegram during a blizzard isn't wise, but it pays double and rent is overdue. He's got dreams, not of a white Christmas, but of getting a shot at Hollywood. He's determined to make it, if he survives this storm.
As Joe and Errol ride out the blizzard, more than marshmallows get toasty in front of the fire. When Errol discovers Joe's identity, he's sure he's found his way in, his big break. But Joe won't sacrifice Errol to the Hollywood sharks. Unless they can forge a compromise, they're going to wake from their midwinter night's dream to lumps of coal in their stockings.
Last Christmas, actor Errol Lockhart discovered boyfriend Carson had stolen a play. Carson accused Errol and then blackballed him in the theater community. Some Christmas that was. Now Errol has to take whatever work he can to survive. Delivering a singing telegram during a blizzard isn't wise, but it pays double and rent is overdue. He's got dreams, not of a white Christmas, but of getting a shot at Hollywood. He's determined to make it, if he survives this storm.
As Joe and Errol ride out the blizzard, more than marshmallows get toasty in front of the fire. When Errol discovers Joe's identity, he's sure he's found his way in, his big break. But Joe won't sacrifice Errol to the Hollywood sharks. Unless they can forge a compromise, they're going to wake from their midwinter night's dream to lumps of coal in their stockings.
BUY: http://www.loose-id.com/newest/coming-soon/midwinter-night-s-dream.html#product_tabs_description
Link back to the
hop:
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Midwinter Night’s Dream
When
it came time to think about a Christmas story, the weather was still in the
fifties—no snow—and winter seemed a long way off. Coming up with something that
appealed to me was a challenge. I thought back to Christmases when I was a kid
growing up in the Rockies.
Waking
up in a warm house to toys and a big breakfast spread didn’t sound like a lot
of conflict, and I didn’t want to make a huge tragedy out of what should be a
happy holiday. What could be a better Christmas gift than finding love?
What
if love literally showed up on your doorstep?
Some
of the family had a log cabin in the mountains. We used to go up there for the
weekend—it was a mass of aunts and uncles and cousins. The cook stove burned
wood, the fireplace was the main heat source, and a generator provided a little
electricity for lights and bath water. Although this family cabin had more than
a single room, it was still the inspiration for the story Midwinter Night’s
Dream.
Add
two damaged guys and a blizzard, and voila! A Christmas story was born.
Errol
is at the end of his rope—his career is going nowhere, and he doesn’t have the
means to effect a change. Joe is still in love with a ghost. A blizzard throws
them together to ride out the storm.
BLURB:
Two years ago, Joe Blake lost his secret lover, firefighter Bryce Marshall.
Grieving, Joe left his job as a fireman and paramedic to become the spokesmodel
for undergarment company Escalade. They lured him into the limelight and drove
him deeper into the closet. Modeling doesn't provide fulfillment; Joe wants
privacy and to feel useful again. A holiday at his mountain cabin outside
Denver is the perfect escape. The last thing he anticipated, or wanted, was
sharing his retreat with another man.
Last Christmas, actor Errol Lockhart discovered boyfriend Carson had stolen a play. Carson accused Errol and then blackballed him in the theater community. Some Christmas that was. Now Errol has to take whatever work he can to survive. Delivering a singing telegram during a blizzard isn't wise, but it pays double and rent is overdue. He's got dreams, not of a white Christmas, but of getting a shot at Hollywood. He's determined to make it, if he survives this storm.
As Joe and Errol ride out the blizzard, more than marshmallows get toasty in front of the fire. When Errol discovers Joe's identity, he's sure he's found his way in, his big break. But Joe won't sacrifice Errol to the Hollywood sharks. Unless they can forge a compromise, they're going to wake from their midwinter night's dream to lumps of coal in their stockings.
Last Christmas, actor Errol Lockhart discovered boyfriend Carson had stolen a play. Carson accused Errol and then blackballed him in the theater community. Some Christmas that was. Now Errol has to take whatever work he can to survive. Delivering a singing telegram during a blizzard isn't wise, but it pays double and rent is overdue. He's got dreams, not of a white Christmas, but of getting a shot at Hollywood. He's determined to make it, if he survives this storm.
As Joe and Errol ride out the blizzard, more than marshmallows get toasty in front of the fire. When Errol discovers Joe's identity, he's sure he's found his way in, his big break. But Joe won't sacrifice Errol to the Hollywood sharks. Unless they can forge a compromise, they're going to wake from their midwinter night's dream to lumps of coal in their stockings.
BUY: http://www.loose-id.com/newest/coming-soon/midwinter-night-s-dream.html#product_tabs_description
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