ted greens and high, misty mounta

hristmas, though celeb

containers of Christmas cookies in the refrigerator or... I don't know. But one wouldn

irst time coming together for a celebration.

as I stand before the mirro

And I can still feel shock rolling in my belly at the

iscarding this wretched apron of woe for something prop

iced me. Of course, he wouldn't. He doesn't eve

red to have his attention and too ashame

find I'm

eyes that invite a provocative aura as if call

over me, and how I'd love to hear his

over my head before removing the bonnet altogether, le

oom, I leave the rest o

y skin is the thought of Hunter carrying himself with raw elegance and composure. Hi

me. He could be my couch on a normal day. Or not, since I'll

oks. Man's drop-dead handsome, I mean. Hot too, like an i

rld to ash merely by his demeanor. And as the image of his

y brain cells aren't doing that m

hings, but didn't. He claims he's more of a physical person and would love it w

tly am, the sound bouncing off the w

ing blood like crazy. But turns out it's no longer just blood. There are now

my hand. But I don't stop. I can't stop. Damn, I want the man. I'

," I moan out

I can't come down from. Plus, I don't know what an orgasm fee

s from my body; one desperate move boun

I want him to, so bad I can't think straight.

old my weight. That doesn't stop me from shivering though-I don't know if

nt to throw up. And for a moment, my head seems

wear with a dark woolen jacket over a brown long-sleeve top that clings arou

s a boss that the White family didn't take from m

off my curves and overlook the fact that others mistake it f

rs barefoot, my strands bouncing against my back and arms as I

hich means perfect timi

messy bun updo. Then I work a little on my face by hi

ally, I would ignore it. I hate crowds more than anything. But my nerv

now that's the environment. And even though the fall isn't h

t heed the lingering thought that this adrenaline pumping through my veins wi

tell

l. There are steel banquet chairs

tention. But the star of my gaze sta

loor with his big hands. And his face... Gods! It's more and more frustrating

ybe not. But who'd know? He's bu

s down. Everyone rises to their feet; some approach him for a

ining hall, and my ey

es the scent-the smell of my arousal. With t

serve the meals or just sitting this one o

osing patience. I don't know how long I can

true identity from me. I'll not fault him for that. I hid mine too aft

nce the start of our relationship. But it makes no difference whichever way

dish, meanwhile devising ways to grab Hunter's atte

ter are sitting at each head of the table. Thankfully, my man's on

Hunter's right side,

ne could likely record that he's dead, and it's just his corps

to mind-I've fucking fallen for someone who'd have been my brother; t

though, unless they

looks brutal. And the shaded, intricate art on his neck and the

s attention somehow-maybe create commotion; like sliding a table knife to the floor next t

attention, which I don't want to happen. Even the Miss herself would

t the tray down, I catch sight of t

nt would want to see who did the deed, which is why I

wrist. It's cold and drives a shudder through me,

who now gazes at my leather bracelet-a gift; t

e my mind becomes a chaotic mess of joy and nervousness

one thing: Hunter

dy fuck