Another Snowbound Christmas Read online

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  Another Snowbound Christmas

  by Veronica Tower

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  Erotica/Romance

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  Red Rose Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Copyright ©2011 by Veronica Tower

  First published in 2011

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

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  Another Snowbound Christmas

  By

  Veronica Tower

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Another Snowbound Christmas by Veronica Tower

  Red RoseTM Publishing

  Publishing with a touch of Class! TM

  The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red RoseTM Publishing

  Red RoseTM Publishing

  Copyright(C) 2011 Veronica Tower

  ISBN: 978-1-4543-0129-5

  Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett

  Editor: Pam

  Line Editor: Zena Gainer

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  * * * *

  Red RoseTM Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

  Forestport, NY 13338

  Thank you for purchasing a book from Red RoseTM Publishing where publishing comes with a touch of Class

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  Chapter One

  “How do I look?” Kara asked as she finally set her lipstick down on the vanity and turned to face her patiently waiting boyfriend. He looked sharp in his dark sports jacket and white dress shirt with the top unbuttoned. Kara hoped he'd think she looked hot as well.

  * * * *

  Ron took his time examining her, his clear blue eyes appreciatively covering every inch of her dark body. “Perfect!” he assured her making no effort to suppress his approving grin. Then he moved in to kiss her, his pale hands catching hers and pulling Kara up to her feet so that his mouth could zero in on her newly glossed lips.

  * * * *

  Laughing with pleasure at his response, Kara still turned her face away. “Wait a minute,” she protested. “You can't kiss me now! I just spent more than forty minutes making myself beautiful.”

  * * * *

  “No you didn't,” Ron corrected her. He pulled her body up next to his, powerful arms encircling her waist before his right hand slipped lower so that his fingers sent a delicious trill of pleasure shuddering through her body as he squeezed her ass through her dark green holiday dress.

  * * * *

  “Oooo, that's nice,” she murmured as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Her breasts flattened against his chest as she slipped her arms around his neck. It felt good to be so close to him, molding her body against her boyfriend's hard flesh, but it also had the advantage of making it more difficult for Ron to smudge her lipstick. One of her younger lover's failings—if failing was really the right word—was that he wanted her all the time and wasn't nearly as concerned as she was over the impact his ardor might have on their outward appearance. Then his words penetrated the comfortable warm aura of contentment his arms generated within her. “What do you mean: No, you didn't? I just spent most of an hour at that little table.”

  * * * *

  Ron didn't answer her. Instead he nuzzled the side of her neck as his fingers continued to rhythmically explore the cheek of her ass, first squeezing then relaxing his grip, only to scrumptiously squeeze her rear end again.

  * * * *

  Kara closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensation, relaxing against him, allowing his strong arms to more fully support her while she road the pleasurable tremors quivering through her body. Ron's hand on her rear subtly encouraged her to rotate her hips just enough so that she could lift her knee beneath her dress and press herself against his upper thigh, just below his hip.

  * * * *

  The contact intensified with the tiny jolts of pleasure his fingers were already shooting through her body, centering them on her groin. In a distant part of her mind, she remembered her question. “What do you mean—”

  * * * *

  “You're already perfect,” he muttered. “Makeup is just a pretty mask.” His lips moved to her throat, hungrily sucking at the pulse just beneath her brown flesh.

  December 24, Christmas Eve

  “How do I look?” Kara Brennan asked as she finally set her lipstick down on the vanity and turned to face her patiently waiting boyfriend. He looked sharp in his dark sports jacket and white dress shirt with the top button undone. Kara hoped he'd think she looked hot as well.

  Ron Miller took his time examining her, his clear blue eyes appreciatively covering every inch of her dark body. “Perfect!” he assured, making no effort to suppress his approving grin. Then he moved in to kiss her, his pale hands catching hers and pulling Kara up to her feet so that his mouth could zero in on her newly glossed lips.

  Laughing with pleasure at his response, Kara still turned her face away. “Wait a minute,” she protested. “You can't kiss me now! I just spent more than forty minutes making myself beautiful.”

  “No, you didn't,” Ron corrected her. He pulled her body up next to his, powerful arms encircling her waist before his right hand slipped lower so that his fingers sent a delicious trill of pleasure shuddering through her body as he squeezed her ass through her dark green holiday dress.

  “Oooo, that's nice,” she murmured as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Her breasts flattened against his chest as she slipped her arms around his neck. It felt good to be so close to him, molding her body against her boyfriend's hard flesh, but it also had the advantage of making it more difficult for Ron to smudge her lipstick.

  One of her younger lover's failings—if failing was really the right word—was that he wanted her all the time and wasn't nearly as concerned as she was over the impact his ardor might
have on their outward appearance. Then his words penetrated the comfortable warm aura of contentment his arms generated within her. “What do you mean: No, you didn't? I just spent most of an hour at that little table.”

  Ron didn't answer her. Instead he nuzzled the side of her neck as his fingers continued to rhythmically explore the cheek of her ass, first squeezing then relaxing his grip, only to scrumptiously squeeze her rear end again.

  Kara closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensation, relaxing against him, allowing his strong arms to more fully support her while she rode the pleasurable tremors quivering through her body. Ron's hand on her rear subtly encouraged her to rotate her hips just enough so that she could lift her knee and press her pussy against his upper thigh, just below his hip.

  The contact intensified the tiny jolts of pleasure his fingers were already shooting through her body, centering them on her groin. In a distant part of her mind, she remembered her question. “What do you mean—”

  With both hands cupping her ass, Ron suddenly picked Kara up and took three shuffling steps to the edge of the bed. Her eyes flashed open and her legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, locking tightly around his waist and pushing the hem of her dress high up her thighs. Then she was falling backward onto the mattress with Ron on top of her, the growing thickness of his erection pressing against her body.

  “You're already perfect,” he muttered. “Makeup is just a pretty mask.” His lips moved to her throat, hungrily sucking at the pulse just beneath her brown flesh.

  Kara stretched out beneath him, enjoying the attention of his lips even as her body kept track of the fingers which moved from her ass to stroke her sides, tantalizingly close to her large breasts.

  Ron's lips moved down her body, away from her mouth toward her cleavage. She wasn't showing very much of it in this dress, but experience told her that that wouldn't stop him from trying to explore. Sure enough, his lips began to kiss the very tops of her breasts and his tongue flicked out to taste the flesh just north of the bodice of her dress. At the same time, Ron's thumb brushed the underside of her breast, sending a spike of excitement jolting above the sensations she was already enjoying.

  She remembered how easy it would be to wrinkle this dress. The thought of showing up to Ron's parents’ house in a soiled outfit spoiled Kara's mood—not that the thought of seeing Ron's parents wasn't enough to accomplish that by itself. She mustered her willpower and pushed Ron away from her. “Okay, that's enough,” she told him. “We've dinner with your parents to go to.”

  Ron, of course, did not stop kissing her. If anything, her reminder encouraged him to greater efforts. His fingers finished sliding up her torso to lightly cup her breast. His thumb continued to tease her, sliding up on the aureole through her dress and bra to brush against the nipple concealed beneath the double layer of cloth.

  Kara closed her eyes and shuddered with heightened pleasure.

  Ron slid lower on her body, bringing his mouth to bear on her still-covered nipple.

  Kara's eyes snapped open and she pushed his mouth away. “No!” she told him, hoping he understood by the firmness in her voice how important this was. She was not going to spend another evening with his sister Kitten teasing her about her sex life with Ron. She'd had quite enough of that this past summer when the Miller family had gathered to celebrate the fortieth anniversary of Ron's parents. Not that celebration was an honest way of describing the continued union of two people who hated each other.

  Ron smiled up at her and sought clarification. “No?”

  Kara kept both hands firmly on the sides of Ron's head. “No!” she repeated. “I am not going to let you put a saliva stain on the front of this dress so that I have to listen to Kitten tease us about it all night.”

  “You could...take the dress off,” Ron suggested.

  She couldn't tell if he were teasing her or if he actually wanted her to comply with his request.

  Maybe both were true.

  “No!” she repeated.

  “Okay, then,” Ron said. He slid down her body until his head reached the middle of her thighs and began to slide her dress up toward her hips.

  Kara grabbed at the skirt of her dress and pushed it back down on her thighs. “No!” she insisted. “We have to leave for your parents’ house!”

  Ron slid further down her legs until he could kiss the side of her knees. After a few seconds, he added an observation. “I don't remember you ever wanting to get to my parents’ house this badly before.” Unsurprisingly, the next time he kissed her flesh, his mouth inched northward toward the hem of her dress again.

  Kara forced herself to sit up. “I don't want to go visit them,” she said. “But it's Christmas Eve and we promised to have dinner with them since we're spending most of tomorrow at my sister's. And I don't want to go there in a rumpled dress or with wet spots on my dress from your tongue or your—”

  “You know I'm not responsible for all of your wet spots,” Ron interrupted. He tried to slide a hand up the insides of her thighs, but she stopped him cold by squeezing her legs together.

  “Yes, you are!” she corrected him. “Now are you going to stop?”

  Ron actually looked chastened. He ducked his head. “I suppose I can be good for you,” he said.

  Kara good-naturedly pushed him to the side and got off the bed. “You liar,” she said. “You're never good!”

  Ron stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist again. She could see them both clearly in the vanity mirror, his blond haired, blue eyed face peaking over her dark skin and even darker tresses. “I'm always good,” he whispered to her. “And you love it when I'm bad too!”

  His lips touched her ear through her hair, making her flesh tingle right down to her crotch. It was so damn hard to deny him when he was in this mood.

  “So you're really afraid we'll ruin your dress if I make love to you?” he asked.

  She patted his hand where it rested on her stomach. “You know we will, Sweety. There's no way we can roll around on the bed without wrinkling—”

  She stopped speaking when Ron lifted her dress up around her waist, exposing the sexy red panties she'd intended to be a surprise for him tonight.

  Ron wasted no time admiring them. Instead he slid them down over her garters to her mid-thighs.

  “Ron!” she snapped. “We can't—”

  A shudder of pleasure cut off her protest as Ron's hand cupped her mons veneris and his fingertips pressed lightly on her moist labia. She could see it all clearly in the mirror. His skin looked much paler when contrasted with her darkest flesh. His fingers began to lightly tickle her, caressing her moist folds with feathery little touches.

  “We...can't...” she repeated, but she didn't sound firm anymore—not even in her own mind.

  Ron kissed her again, pressing through her hair with his mouth to find the hot flesh of her neck. In the mirror, the contours of Kara's nipples had become visible, pressing out against the fabric of her dress. “We can't...what?” he asked. “Can't stop? Can't quit? Can't—”

  His middle finger gently separated the outer folds of her labia, releasing a trickle of wetness onto her thighs.

  The sensation galvanized the tattered shreds of Kara's will power. She turned around, making him release her pussy, at least for the moment. “Ron, we have to go.”

  Ron caught her small hand and pressed it down to his crotch so she could feel the thick meat beneath his pants. “We can't leave yet, Kara!” he told her. “I need you!” His voice sounded hoarse with desire.

  Kara's mutinous fingers began to trace the powerful length of Ron's erection even as her brain sought to remember where they were going in a few minutes.

  His lips found hers, spoiling her lipstick. His tongue darted into her mouth, exploring her with raw need. His hand encouraged her fingers to stop playing and tightly grip his penis.

  Kara turned her face away, breaking the kiss. She wanted to help him—loved the fact that he wanted her this badly—but
she also hated the thought that having sex right now would make them late and open them up to embarrassing questions.

  She decided on a compromise. Her lipstick was ruined anyway. It seemed the best option.

  She started to sink to her knees. “I'll blow you,” she offered. “Then you—”

  Ron caught her beneath the armpits and hauled her back to her feet. “Blow me tomorrow when we need a break because your mother and sister are driving us crazy.” As if Kara would ever let that happen. “Right now I need to be deep inside your pussy with your legs wrapped tight around me!”

  His lips locked on top of hers again and his hands wrenched her dress back up around her waist. Her panties slid the rest of the way down to her ankles while he grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her tight against his crotch. He was even harder now than he'd been just a few seconds ago. But they were leaving for his parents.

  “My dress...” she protested past the demands of his hungry mouth.

  Ron abruptly spun her around so she was facing her vanity mirror. His hands impatiently caught the zipper at her back and wrenched it down. The dress quickly followed, pulling her slip down with it. When she stepped out of the material, he threw it impatiently across the floor until it struck the wall and dropped in a heap.

  “Wait a minute!” she protested.

  Ron still wasn't listening. He dropped to his knees behind her and bit her on the cheek while the fingers of his right hand reached up between her legs and stroked her lips again. Juices rolled more freely onto her thighs. She'd never gotten this wet with Bobby, her old boyfriend. Only Ron seemed to know how to bring her body to life. She leaned forward on the vanity, spilling makeup cases to the side. Her face pressed against her mirror and she spread her legs wider, hoping he'd reached up and touch her clitoris.

  Instead, Ron penetrated her with the fingers of his right hand, sliding between her lips and then splaying the fingers to open her to the cool air of the bedroom.

  She shuddered again, glad that she was leaning on the table because the sudden weakness in her knees was enough to make her fall without the support.