Title- Sleigh Ride
Author- Trixie Pierce
Holiday Ride Trilogy book #2
CAN BE READ AS AS STANDALONE~Synopsis ~
*Warning: Contains cute winter scenes, adorable critters, violence, blood, guns, plenty of cussing, sensual characters with a hard ass mentality,
explicit sex, and a warped sense of humor. Enjoy!*
Winter Beauman left behind glitz, glamour, and the Manhattan skyline for a calmer existence in Wyoming. Taking up welding, she built a life around the new talent in the tiny town, with no need to be anyone but herself.
Mason St. Croix spent five years alone reconciling the death of his wife, when he decided it was time to finally rejoin the living. Commissioning a custom sleigh to take presents to many of the children in town puts him face to face with the beautiful, and talented, Winter … making his long dormant libido roar to life.
But someone in town doesn’t want Mason and Winter to be more than acquaintances, and are willing to kill to keep it that way.
Searching for answers reveals secrets best kept in the dark, ones that could tear them apart. Mason and Winter find they must accept the pain from the past, or lose the light of a happily ever after.
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Ignoring it, his clothes had dried, and he dressed quickly. Making the bed, he walked into the living room to find Winter bundling into several layers, a snow shovel leaning against the door. “I’m just in time,” he smiled.
“Come on, let’s get this over with,” she returned the smile from under a knit cap and the dark blue parka’s hood. It made her light blue eyes burn a deeper color, and accentuated the red lips against the paleness of her skin.
Taking a deep breath, and glad his coat didn’t let her see the way his dick liked her, he followed outside.
Snow flurries swirled around them like a river, but it was light and the wind was easy. Unused to shoveling snow after buying a snowblower, he was breathing hard a foot from the porch. Winter continued, whistling. She bent over, and he noticed she wore jeans, low riders that gave him a glimpse of the dark blue g-string.
His breathing escalated for another reason altogether. Images of removing the slip of underwear with his teeth, nibbling and licking the skin, making her moan, caused his heart to beat hard enough to force him backwards. The wall of snow kept him upright. He worked hard to get the image out of his head, closing both eyes and counting to one hundred.
“Are you okay? Do you need a break, Mason? Mason? Are you okay?” her voice grew stronger, more urgent.
He opened to find her only a foot away, a hand on his chest. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he croaked, “Yes, I, I …”
“Do you need to go inside?” She jerked off a glove and put a warm hand against his cheek. “You’re really hot, maybe we should go inside.”
The feel of her palm against his skin unlocked a dam. He shoved a hand into her hood, under the cap, grabbed a handful of the silky blonde hair, and pulled her head back. He stared into her eyes, gauging. “I’m going to kiss you, and kiss you hard, Winter. All you have to do is say yes.” His voice dropped several octaves, came out deep and harsh, much like his breathing.
“Yes,” she whispered, a puff of coffee laced breath gently pushing against his face.
It was all he needed. He took her mouth, pushing hard, forcing her to open to him. Taking advantage, he tasted her, the mocha laced coffee, and the underlying sweetness that was all Winter. Throwing the shovel to the side, he wrapped the other arm around her waist, jerking the soft body against his. Her moan vibrated against his mouth, and the imprisoned beast growled. Mine.
Using his tongue, he showed her exactly what he wanted, in and out of her mouth, tasting every inch between thrusts, giving her little room to breathe or decide to end it. He wanted her to know exactly what he wanted, how he wanted it, and that she was going to enjoy every minute. Her hips moved against him, and the beast he thought died with Beth roared to life.
Although she hates writing bio's in third person, Trixie does love fast cars, fast men, and an enduring fascination with internal combustion engines. Living in the Rockies, she's traveled enough to know the mountains are home. When not working, she can be found with her head under the hood, or buried in the pages of her next novel.
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