The Six Curses of Christmas:


Christmas isn't just for December. After all curses go on all year long... Spring... Maybe even Halloween...


Trapped inside a tree eons ago and cursed to move from tree to tree, losing any powers she’s gained when the tree is cut down, Deidre’s in a foul mood when Casey thinks her current home will make the perfect Christmas tree. She curses him with the one thing she knows is guaranteed to bring misery and sorrow: love.

Even when Casey meets Brietta, the woman of his dreams, and gets happier instead of sad, Deidre knows just how to fix him. Make him fall in love, then make sure Brietta never will. She’ll make him pay for all of men’s crimes.

But Casey and Brietta feel the pull of true passion, and between dizzying sex and dazzling love, they’ll turn her curses into a miracle of Christmas romance.

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“It’s like it has a mind of its own.” He shook his head, rubbing his arm. “Damn tree.”

A ball fell off and popped him on the top of his head.

Brietta laughed more as he rubbed the spot where the ornament hit. “It does seem to have its own ideas.” He’d bent down to search for ornaments so she approached him, putting her hands on either side of his head to kiss the spot without needing him to bend down. “There. That better?”

“Maybe.”

“Only maybe?” She arched a brow.

“I have another spot that hurts.” He poked his lip out slightly in a playful pout. Kiss me.

She didn’t take the bait, apparently not a mind reader. Cocking her head to the side, she eyed him. “Where at?”

He pointed to the center of his lips. “There.”

“Oh.” She leaned down again to plant a kiss where he’d pointed. “How’s that?”

“I think they need more TLC. They were hurting a lot.”

Stooping, she kissed him more deeply.

“That’s getting there. Still need more.”

They kissed again, their tongues meeting in a duel. She sounded breathless, her mouth swollen. “Let’s see what we can do about that pain here.”

“Might take lots of kisses to fully help it.” Like about a million before he’d ever tire of kissing her.

“Hmmm.” Her tongue continued a gentle exploration of his mouth. Fires simmered, rose up, and crackled inside him. Flame licked his body at every turn.

He pulled her closer, grinding his hard cock into her middle. Damn, how her body tempted him. He wanted inside of her right now.

The soft sweater teased his fingertips resting on her back. He shifted his hand to cup the twin globes of her ass, pulling her tighter against his erection. She moaned sweetly under his assault.

He pulled away slightly to a frustrated protest, which stopped right after he lowered himself to the floor. He tugged on her arm to urge her down with him onto the rug he’d placed around the bottom of the Christmas tree. His hand traced a lazy pattern over her nose and cheeks, memorizing each placement of her freckles as she lay beside him.

Her lashes fluttered down. “I don’t usually do this…sort of thing. On the second date.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I don’t.” Her voice tightened.

“Oh, I believe you.” He kissed the tip of her nose, his hands still exploring the wonder that was her face. Her nose was so slim and perky. “I don’t either.” He hadn’t had sex with a woman he’d just met since his younger wild days. But something about her drew him, since the first time he’d seen her in the store. This seemed so much different than wanting a night of sex with a woman he didn’t know. God help him, knowing Brietta had become an obsession.

His lips sipped at hers, tasting a little, reassuring her that all was well. Hell, he was so well, he might explode soon.

The sweater tickled his fingers as his hand rode down her torso to the bottom of it. His hand slipped inside to touch the tender skin of her stomach, eliciting a gasp from her.

“Should I stop?” He pulled away to look deep within her eyes. He wanted this with her, but she had to want it, too.

She nuzzled the bottom of his chin with her head. “No.”

His hand slid higher under her sweater to find a breast. Gently caressing it through the satiny feel of her bra, he took it slow, his hand touching around it. The nipple pebbled through the filmy material.

Sliding her shirt up, his eyes feasted on her exposed stomach. She had creamy skin with several freckles scattered about. Her bra was a blue or green hard to tell in the light and cupped her full breasts tightly.

His head lowered to tease her nipples through the material. First, he’d blow warm and wet, then he’d suck in his breath, rippling cold air along them. She shuddered, her legs extending out fully. God, what they’d feel like wrapped around him. He wanted to be encased in her. Wanted to be inside her so tightly they meshed. He couldn’t hold out much longer. His body had become wrapped too tense with desire.

He slid one hand up those long limbs to explore her hips.

She grasped the bottom of his T-shirt, tugging on it. “Let’s get this off.”

“Not without something of yours coming off.”


Mechele Armstrong aka Lany of Melany Logen
Where sensuality and wonder collide
http://www.mechelearmstrong.com
http://www.collector-series.com
The future’s never been so sexy
http://www.melanylogen.com

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