Page 20 of Stolen Holidays (The Miller Brothers #5)

nineteen

Emery

Two Days Until Christmas

I tie the red ribbon under my breasts and take one last look in the mirror.

Hair smoothed to perfection? Check.

Sexy red nighty and matching panties? Check.

Lips painted red the way Mason likes? Check.

For some wild reason, tonight I’m nervous about seducing my husband.

It’s probably because I look and feel like a beached whale ready to pop.

I’m due after Christmas, but my OB/GYN has said babies arrive when they want to, and since I’m past thirty-seven weeks, this little man can make his appearance any day now.

A pain stabs me in the ribs as my son moves and kicks, reminding me of his presence.

“Hey now, none of that. It’s bedtime,” I croon as I rub my hands over my swollen belly. “I need alone time with Daddy, you hear me?” He settles at the sound of my voice, and I hope that for the next thirty to forty-five minutes, he doesn’t move.

This last week has been a flurry of holiday activities, family time, and secret wedding planning. I’m looking forward to an evening alone with my sexy man.

These pregnancy hormones are no joke. Since I entered my third trimester, I’ve been slightly hornier than usual. While Mason and I are as intimate as ever, there is something missing, and I’ve finally figured out what.

Mason has been the best husband, catering to my every need since we found out I was pregnant, but that thing I said was missing…

well, it’s a piece of Mason. He’s been holding back from me, and I hate it.

I wish he would just be my grumpy, growly man and throw me onto the bed and have his way with me like he used to.

Lately, he’s been over-the-top protective, treating me like I’m made of glass, and I’m over it.

From the moment I agreed to plan Eli and Callie’s surprise wedding, my husband has been insufferable.

He’s attached himself to my hip since we’ve arrived at the inn, and he refuses to let me decorate the barn alone.

I think the attempts on both Eli and Callie’s lives have rattled him.

But he doesn’t need to worry. The baby and I are perfectly healthy.

There is nothing lurking in the shadows waiting to get us.

Tonight, I plan on reminding him just how safe we are. I want him to be here in the present with me. We need this before our son flips our world around and we become a family of three.

Grabbing my toiletries bag, I pull out the gift my brother, Chris, gave me before we left the house.

Chris—who is beyond inappropriate—gifted me a new battery-operated boyfriend when he found out Mason threw my old one away in a fit of jealous rage when he busted me using it in the shower without him.

It was one of the last times he let go of his restraint and made love to me like he did that first Valentine’s weekend, when we fell in love.

The memories of him bossing me around make my clit throb. I cross my legs to ease the ache at the apex of my thighs and take a deep breath. Now or never.

I pull open the bathroom door and lean against the frame—the toy hidden behind my back—waiting for my darling husband to notice me. I don’t have to wait long. Mason is as attuned to me as I am to him. Like extensions of the same soul, we gravitate towards each other.

“Holy fucking shit,” he hisses from where he’s lying in bed, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and nothing else. His eyes linger on my chest a little longer, appreciating the fullness pregnancy has given my breasts, before he finishes taking in my outfit. Or lack thereof.

In a voice as seductive as I can make it, I ask, “Like your present, Mr. Bossy?” then bite my red lip and wait.

The red teddy I picked was a last-minute purchase at the lingerie store.

The sheer red lace top has spaghetti straps, opens under my boobs, and flows down in a satin curtain around my swollen belly.

One tug on the bow beneath my breasts, and I’d be topless.

Instead of the thong, because being pregnant made a scrap of material up my butt beyond uncomfortable, I chose a pair of lace cheeky panties.

I watch in satisfaction as his pajamas tent before my eyes, his erection growing at the sight of me.

“No, Baby Doll, I love my present.” His knuckles turn white as he grips the comforter beneath him. “You look sexy as fuck in that little number. So damn beautiful. Breathtaking.”

“I feel kind of huge,” I admit, toying with the bow.

“Nope. Sexy. Absolutely fuckable. I can’t wait to unwrap you.”

My cheeks heat at the way his eyes eat me up. “Such a charmer. I’m the size of a house, and you know it.”

“Knock it off.” Mason climbs off the bed and stalks towards me.

He lays a hand on my stomach. “I understand you’re uncomfortable, but you are gorgeous, even more so with our boy growing in your belly.

You’ve created a wonderful home for him inside you.

You’re taking such good care of him until he’s ready to join us out here.

I’m in awe of your beauty and strength, Em. ”

Mason falls to his knees. He cups my stomach and caresses my tight skin.

The heat of his palms penetrates something deep inside that can only be described as love and stirs inside my chest. My eyes burn as they fill with tears.

I place one hand on his shoulders for balance as I stare down at my handsome, big-hearted husband.

He looks up at me with a worried expression wrinkling the skin between his eyes. “What’s wrong, Em?”

“Nothing.” A tidal wave of emotion clogs my throat. “I just love you so much.”

Mason’s shoulders ease as he grins at me, and the golden flecks in his forest-green eyes flicker with heat. “I love you more. Only you.”

“Thank you.” I run a hand through his thick, wavy hair.

“For?” He arches a brow in confusion.

“Coming back and loving me the way you do.” Mason likes to proclaim I gave him a second chance, but he forgets he gave me a second chance too.

“I’ll never leave you or our son again.” He places a kiss on my stomach before he stands. He grips the doorframe above my head with one hand and wraps his other arm around my waist.

I look up at him. “I know.”

“Good.” His hand slides to my ass, and he gropes it. “Now, I think it’s time for presents. Do you like presents, my sweet wife?”

Burning-hot shivers race down my spine in anticipation. “Depends.”

“On?”

I run a finger down his naked chest. “Who gets to do the unwrapping first?”

“Oh, Baby Doll, you know I always get to do the unwrapping first, and you get to receive all the presents you can take.”

I snort a laugh at his dirty innuendo. “I think I can take it.”

“Hmm, we’ll see.” The hand on my ass moves to the silicone toy still in my hand. “What do we have here?” Mason tugs the vibrator free from my grasp and lifts it into the air. He inspects the purple, penis-shaped toy with a smirk. “Let me guess, a gift from Christopher?”

My cheeks heat. “Yes.”

Mason chuckles. “Figures he’d replace that last one just to fuck with me.”

“He does love to mess with you.”

The golden striations in Mason’s eyes glow as he cockily retorts, “It’s only fair. He walked in on me fucking his sister.”

I scowl at my smart-ass husband and smack his shoulder. “You’re not supposed to bring that up.” That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Took a little while for me and Chris to look each other in the eye again.

Mason shrugs and rubs the tip of the dildo over my lips, leaving red stains from my lipstick behind. “Sorry, love. How about I make it up to you?”

“And how, pray tell, do you plan on making it up to me?”

“Like this.” Mason throws the device on the bed and lifts me into his arms, bridal style.

“Hey!” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “I was going to use that,” I complain.

“Not a chance in hell,” he growls.

“I’m not made of glass, you know?” I mumble, making Mason freeze mid-step.

“Is that what you think this is about?”

I bite my lips and shrug, unsure how to explain. Mason is a straight shooter, so I go with the truth. “Isn’t it? Since I started showing, you’ve been treating me like I’m going to break. I want my bossy-in-the-bedroom husband to ravish me.”

Instead of the bed, Mason steers us towards the couch. He takes a seat, keeping me in his arms. With his finger, he lifts my chin and turns my head, forcing me to look at him. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel breakable. I love you so much I can’t help but worry that I might hurt you or our son.”

I cup his cheek, relishing the scrape of his scruff on my palm and the sheepish look on his handsome face. “I know you do. Just because I’m pregnant, it doesn’t mean we have to stop…” I don’t know how to finish the rest of my sentence without sounding like a horny ho-bag.

Mason lowers his voice and leans close. His breath fans across my lips as he speaks. “Fucking like it’s our last day on Earth? Like I can’t get enough of you? Like I want you to feel me long after I’ve come inside you?”

My heart rate spikes at his apt description of everything I want.

“Yes, exactly,” I say breathlessly. Hunger for my husband grows unbearable, and arousal gathers between my legs.

Mason pounces on me and crashes his mouth into mine. Our lips part, and our tongues clash. We lick and nip, pulling each other as close as we can as we kiss like the world might end.

I pull away, kissing a trail down Mason’s jaw, neck, chest, and stomach as I slide off his lap and onto my knees on the lush shag carpet. The small Christmas tree twinkles from its place between the sofa and the electric fireplace, casting the room in a warm glow.

“Emery,” Mason warns, his voice thick and rumbly with desire.

I slip my fingers into the waistband of his pajamas. He lifts his hips, and I tug them out from under him and down his legs. He kicks them to the side as my gaze narrows in on his perfect cock.

My mouth waters at the sight, and I lick my lips, ready to suck him off.