Home > A Fashionably Dead Christmas (Hot Damned #5)(3)

A Fashionably Dead Christmas (Hot Damned #5)(3)
Author: Robyn Peterman

Ethan was a crafting disaster. My sexy man could take down an army of Demons, but apparently he couldn’t wrap a gift.

“It’s part of the fun,” I insisted as I sat down on the floor next to him.

I didn’t lift a finger to help. It was far too much fun to see that he wasn’t good at everything. His grumble of displeasure made me grin.

“Do you like the decorations?” I asked as I moved behind him and massaged his broad muscular shoulders.

“They’re very… colorful,” he replied with a chuckle. His head fell back on his shoulders as he groaned with pleasure. “We’ve never had anything quite like it at the Cressida House before.”

“Then you had no clue what you were missing,” I told him as I pulled lightly on his hair.

“Do that again,” he said in a husky voice that made my girlie parts wake up.

“What's this?” I patted his back like he was a dog and scooted away with a laugh.

“Nope, this,” he said.

He moved quicker than the speed of light and pinned me beneath him. I gasped and giggled as the wrapping paper that wasn’t crunched up under me flew all over the room. His lips found mine and all thoughts of the massive list of Christmas duties I hadn’t finished disappeared. I was home in his arms and everything else could simply wait.

“Tell me, beautiful girl… why is all of this this so important to you?” Ethan murmured against my lips.

“Because,” I said, avoiding the question.

“Because why?” he asked as he pulled back with a curious look in his eyes.

Should I tell him? Was it silly? “Because—I don’t know,” I said as I reached for him and tried to get his mind back on some afternoon nookie.

“Astrid—tell me. I want to understand. You’ve slaved over invitations, decorations, presents, and God only knows what else. You even forgot about Thursday night closet sex,” he teased with arched brows and a sexy lopsided grin. “Completely unacceptable.”

“Well, I can make up for that right now,” I purred as I wiggled suggestively underneath him.

“No. We’ll get to that in a moment,” he promised as he smiled and pressed his forehead to mine. “I am a very selfish man, Astrid. I want your body, your mind, your soul, your thoughts, and your love. I need to know all your wishes and dreams—I want to make them come true.”

“That kind of sounds the opposite of selfish,” I corrected the man I would happily die for.

“Trust me, I’m selfish and possessive. However, you’re stuck with me,” he growled.

“Back at ya, sexy pants.” I giggled as I tried once again to have my pornographic way with him, but it was a no go.

“Talk to me,” he urged.

“Fine,” I huffed. Clearly I wasn’t going to get laid until I came clean.

Shitmonsters.

“It’s because most of my Christmases sucked as a child. My mother didn’t believe in trees or presents. She told me Santa was a lie when I was four. It wasn’t until my Nana was around that I even understood what the Hell that Christmas really meant.”

The sadness and concern on Ethan’s face made me uncomfortable.

“No worries. I’m over it,” I told him as I traced his lips with my finger. “Ten years of therapy fixed me up good. Now I just want all of Samuel’s memories to be beautiful—to be special. I want him to come home for the holidays after he’s grown because they were so fucking awesome when he was a child. I want him to recognize the ornaments from year to year. I want him to have lots of family around that loves him. I want him to roll his eyes at the massive collection of Baby Jesuses I have.”

“How many do you have?” Ethan asked as he gently tucked my wild dark hair behind my ear.

“Fourteen as of today,” I told him and waited for him to laugh.

He didn’t. He simply stared at me like I was a miracle.

“I think this extraordinary effort is for you too, my love.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.

“No, I’m really over all that crap from my past… ” I started.

“Shhhh… ” he hushed me with a smile. “I think it’s all good and that next year I will decorate with you. I will master this thing called wrapping presents and I will buy you hundreds of Baby Jesuses.”

“You will?” I whispered.

“Yes. I will,” he vowed.

“I’m kinda wildly in love with you at the moment,” I said with a silly grin.

“Back at ya, sexy ass.”

“You wanna know something else?” I asked.

“Do I?”

“Yep, you definitely do,” I told him.

“Then out with it.”

“I’ve never done the nasty under a Christmas tree,” I whispered as both of our gazes slowly turned from gold to green with desire.

“We could get busted,” he said as his tongue traced my collarbone and sent shivers all through me.

“We could make it a quickie. I’m not wearing panties,” I informed him.

He groaned and let his head fall back on the marble floor with a thud. “You could tempt a dead man.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

“I suppose I could make your Christmas wish come true,” he replied with mock exhaustion.

“Don’t put yourself out for me,” I said as I ground my hips into his very happy camper.

   
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