Hers for the Holidays by Samantha Hunter Page A

“Nice? It was nice? ”
    “I said very nice,” she corrected, stealing some food from his plate, as well.
    “I think it was way better than nice,” he countered.
    “I’m glad.”
    He knew she was teasing him, but called her on her bluff, having fun. He liked her when she was playful, which seemed to be far too rare.
    “You think you could do better?”
    She smiled, and her eyes shone in a way that made her light up inside. He loved it when she smiled like that.
    “Are you daring me to make it even better?” she asked mischievously. “Hotter? More satisfying?”
    Ely’s nerve endings—especially the ones south of the border—were very interested in her dare.
    “You couldn’t possibly,” he said calmly, licking some sauce from his fingers.
    “Well, I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” she purred, setting her plate aside and stripping off her top and throwing it to the floor.
    Ely set his plate down, too, admiring how the firelight kissed her skin. Her hair fell down, hiding part of her face behind the silk curtain, turning her into an exotic creature focused only on his pleasure.
    “What’s this symbol here, at the center of the rose?” he asked, letting his fingers trail down her sternum to land on the spot above her navel.
    She looked down to where his finger lay against her skin.
    “It’s a medicine wheel. A Native American friend did that one for me, after we took a drive out into the desert for a week. He said it represented my personal journey, my strengths, and it’s also a protective symbol. He told me some other things, too, but it was years ago, and I forget now,” she said, touching the mark fondly.
    Ely’s first instinct was to question. Her friend—was he the kind of friend who also knew her intimately? Intimately enough to put a mark on her that would never be removed? That she still ran her fingers over with a lover’s touch?
    Down boy, he reminded himself. Lydia was not his—one of the reasons he was so attracted to her was because she was so completely her own person.
    “What are you thinking?” she asked.
    He looked up at her as she knelt gracefully before him, looking down. Her breasts were shadowed, her back to the fire, only her womanly shape silhouetted by the light coming from the hearth. He was already rock hard and decided not to worry about where her tats had come from. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know.
    “Just looking at you and taking it all in,” he said, reaching up to brush his hand over the taut peak of her breast and loving how she responded so easily, her lips parting to take a breath as her head bent forward. She watched him for a few seconds as he touched her, and then fell forward, pushing him back to the pillows.
    “I’m in charge this time, since I have a challenge to answer,” she said, her voice smoky.
    Then she was kissing him again, her hands unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it away before sliding down over the burgeoning at the front of his jeans. He arched up into her touch, his jaw tense.
    “So hard,” she said, undoing his jeans.
    Lydia took her time touching him, exploring him everywhere. His body was one solid mass of muscle, his cock hot and hard in her hands.
    “I would love to create a maze, right here,” she said, leaning down to touch her tongue lightly to his solar plexus, making him draw in a sharp breath. “It would wind all the way down,” she continued, her tongue tracing the path, “and only I would know where it leads,” she finished.
    He swallowed hard as her mouth finally landed on the tip of his erection, her light touch reaching down to his root and pulling out a groan of pleasure. She ran her thumb over his shaft, as if exploring him, dragging her nails lightly down the inside of his thighs, to his knees, the back up to stroke him from tip to base. That had him arching from the floor, and as he did so, she took him suddenly and completely into her mouth.
    Unable to hold back, he drove himself deeper. She