A Very Merry Christmas: WITH "Do You Hear What I Hear" AND "Bah Humbug, Ba Read Free Page B

to her. So close that she could feel his breath on her nipple when he whispered again, “Beautiful.”
    Twining her fingers in his silky hair, Marci tried to urge him forward. But he was a muscled lug, especially thick through the shoulders and chest, and he didn’t budge an inch.
    He said, “Shhh,” and cupped her breast in his palm. With the side of his thumb, he taunted her nipple, gently rolling over it, around it.
    Months ago, they’d gone out and indulged in fevered petting, yet never consummated their attraction. But since then she had not even been kissed by another man. She couldn’t take it. She needed him, now. “Enough.”
    In reply, he closed his thumb and finger around her, holding her gently, tugging, applying just the right amount of pressure.
    Marci knotted her hands in his hair and forced him to her while arching her back. With a rough laugh, Osbourne obliged, and his mouth closed around her.
    Heaven.
    He began a wet, hot sucking, and she melted.
    The sensation was so acute, so wonderful, she squeezed her eyes shut and couldn’t stop moaning.
    After treating her other breast to the same teasing torment, he whispered, “Now?” and she again felt his hand under her robe, resting lightly on her belly.
    More than ready for him, she breathed, “Yes, please.” She needed his touch, was anxious for it.
    He wasn’t subtle. He cupped his hand over her mound, searched and, separating her labia, worked one thick finger into her.
    In sheer, shocking pleasure, Marci stiffened and pressed back, but Osbourne didn’t let up. He stroked his finger deep, until the heel of his hand pressed flush against her, giving her even more pleasure. Her muscles clamped down in reaction.
    “Yeah,” he whispered, “you’re nice and wet now. You won’t have any problem taking me, will you, honey?”
    Unsure of his meaning, Marci moved against him. “I’m not a virgin, Osbourne.”
    “Virginity is overrated.”
    “Then, what?”
    He pulled his hand away and scooped both hands under her behind to lift her. “Hold onto me.”
    She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. He lifted her, and something big and hard pressed against her. “Osbourne?”
    “Hmmm?”
    “Your gun is in the way. It’s prodding at me.”
    “That’s not my gun, sweets.” With a wicked grin, he turned them both away from the wall.
    Not his…Well, what then?
    He started toward her bedroom, and her thoughts scattered. Uh-oh. “Osbourne?”
    “Yeah, babe?”
    His long legs quickly traversed the limited space of her apartment. “We’re going to make love now?”
    “You betcha.”
    She bit her lip, then offered, “The couch might work better.”
    “No way.” He kissed her hard and fast, his eyes glittering. “I need plenty of room for what I want to do to you.”
    Wow, that sounded… enticing. She glanced at her closed bedroom door. “But…”
    “Don’t pull back on me now, Marci. I need you.”
    Her heart expanded. He needed her. She cupped a hand to his jaw and smiled. “Okay.”
    “Thank God.” He reached for her bedroom door.
    Marci rushed to say, “If you insist on the bed, though, we’ll need to do one thing first.”
    “Yeah?” He opened the door. “What’s that?”
    He no sooner asked the question than the donkey rushed him, screaming, “Aw-ee, aw-ee, aw-ee.”
    Shocked, Osbourne stumbled back, tripped over his own feet, and they both went down in a tangle. “What the hell!”
    The donkey loomed over them.
    Full of apology, Marci winced. “You’ll need to help me get the donkey back to his rightful owners.”

Two
     
     
    Slowly, his gaze ripe with accusation, Osbourne turned to stare at her. Never before had Marci seen anyone so red-faced, so enraged, or so disappointed.
    “You had to take the damned donkey, didn’t you?”
    Because Osbourne lay over her, pinning down her legs, she had to stretch to reach the donkey. She patted his soft nose and said, “He doesn’t mean it, honey.