they can make it through anything.
A broken promise.
A chance encounter.
A forgotten phone call.
A shot at forgiveness.
The hardest thing about love is letting go . . .
A crippling addiction.
A broken heart.
A costly mistake.
A lingering past.
The funniest thing is that no one knows which way is up . . .
With a break-up—or is it a proposal?—in the wings, a sick baby and stretch marks to worry about, a Christmas party that probably could have gone better, and the pressure to find that perfect gift, these four friends are just trying to make it through the holidays. Without losing their minds—or any other important body parts.
And that gives this Christmas the potential to be their craziest one yet . . .
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Brighton licked her lips, her eyes never leaving his body as he moved closer and closer to her, a sure sign that she was nervous.
“Well?” He took one final step, aligning their bodies so that he could feel the silky material of her negligee on his bare chest. He’d ripped his own shirt off as he’d entered the house, determined to have his wife once—hard and fast—so that he could enjoy her slower a little later on.
She was, after all, a woman to be enjoyed.
She shrugged, batting eyelashes at him like she thought he was susceptible to fluttering lids and mesmerizing green eyes. When he simply raised his eyebrows in a “well?” expression, she joined her hands with his and squeezed, offering a small smile that brought all of Sebastian’s plans to a screaming halt.
Something was wrong.
And he was going to find out exactly what it was.
“Brighton, I wanna know.” He tried to be gentle, but the words came out demanding. Shit. “I’m sorry. Please?”
“Just . . . well, you know.” Her eyes cast downward as she dropped one of his hands in favor of resting it on her still slightly-rounded belly. “I know you say you don’t care—”
“I don’t care. I’m not saying it. I mean it.” He felt the frown that skittered across his face before he worked to smooth it out. He didn’t want her to think he was angry at her, but he also didn’t want her thinking that she was anything less than perfect.
“I know. I just feel—I mean, it was strange getting naked without you here.” Using the hand that was still joined with his, Brighton pulled him even closer. Nothing, not even the smallest sliver of air, was between them but for the material of her cream-colored nightgown. “I like it when you undress me.”
Sebastian nodded and lowered his head so he could kiss her.
It started slow. They pressed and licked and stroked, the heat ratcheting up with every movement, and it wasn’t long before Brighton began to express her impatience.
There, that’s what I want, Sebastian thought, my wife needing me so badly, she forgets to worry.
He wasted no time in making sure she got what she needed from him. He let go of her hand, using both of his own to grip the hem of her negligee and begin the slow slide of silk up her body as she whimpered into their kiss, then moaned when he broke it to draw the material over her head.
Perfect. Her body was perfect. Soft and curved in all the right places and absolutely made for him to worship, which he didn’t hesitate in sharing with her. “I could touch this body every minute of every day, and it wouldn’t be enough.”