You've got to read the Exclusive Excerpt from XOXO: Sweet and Sexy Romance.
Edited by Kristina Wright
Publishing on February 14, 2014
About the Author
Described by The Romance Reader as “a budding force to be reckoned with,” KRISTINA WRIGHT is a full-time writer and the editor of the bestselling Fairy Tale Lust: Erotic Fantasies for Women, as well as other Cleis Press anthologies including Dream Lover: Paranormal Tales of Erotic Romance; Steamlust: Steampunk Erotic Romance; Lustfully Ever After: Fairy Tale Erotic Romance; Duty and Desire: Military Erotic Romance and the Best Erotic Romance series.
Originally from South Florida, Kristina is living happily ever after in Virginia with her husband Jay and their two little boys.
Exclusive Excerpt
The War
At Home
Giselle Renarde
Flipping onto her stomach, Brenda buries her face in the bunched-up pillow. Too soft. How can she possibly get to sleep with her head sinking into the oblivion of a dark-blue pillowcase? She can’t breathe.
Her mouth and nose are buried in feathers. She turns her head to the side, but that
hurts her neck, so she flips again, landing with a bounce on her backside.
The sheets that match the pillowcase have wrapped themselves around her calves, and she kicks at them, but they don’t let go. Growling, she kicks harder, but the sheets have her bound like a mermaid—just what Kaz always wanted. Thank god he’s asleep.
Lucky bastard.
Sleep, just go to sleep! Brenda instructs herself. That hasn’t worked all week; it probably won’t work tonight. She should have exercised earlier, maybe some yoga after dinner or a sprint around the neighborhood.
Anything to burn off this excess energy. But it’s too late to run now. If she lies still, she’s bound to drift off eventually.
She thinks about her sister, and the issue that started her sleepless nights—the war at home, as Kaz calls their spats.
She can’t believe how worked up she and her husband have become over an argument that rightly belongs to Brenda’s sister. Once again, Rachel’s insinuated herself into a dispute between the new beau and his ex-wife. Obviously Brenda has to take her sister’s side, but Kaz doesn’t think it’s any of Rachel’s business to get involved.
That’s how this started, this bad blood between husband and wife.
It’s just so stupid. No other word for it. Brenda tries to put her ire in a drawer, pack it away, but it just won’t fit. And judging by the fact that Kaz is asleep right now and Brenda isn’t, he’s obviously succeeded where she’s failed.
Stop thinking! It doesn’t matter. Just go to sleep.
Her legs are still bound in the twisted blue sheet, and she kicks, kicks until she’s sweating. Nothing happens. She’s still trapped naked in these goddamn linens that are like seaweed drowning her mermaid self. And before she knows it, she’s writhing in bed, flipping and twisting, screaming her frustration into the night.
Kaz bolts upright. “Whazzat?”
Brenda’s heart stills so fast she wonders if she’s having a heart attack.
Is he awake?
She thinks she might cry, though she doesn’t know why. She tells him, “I’m stuck.”
Kaz stares at her like he’s wondering if she’s a dream or if she’s real. His ginger stubble glints gray in the moonlight, and she stares back. They stare at each other.
“My legs,” she says when his gaze drifts across her naked breasts. “My legs are stuck in the sheets.”
“Oh.”
He’s just looking at her now, at the curve of her belly, th tender slope of her breasts, her nipples pursed against the cool night air. He’s watching the rise and fall of her body as it breathes. She watches him watching her.
But there’s fire in her belly and she wants to revive this argument, though now is not the time. She wants to be right. She wants Kaz to tell her she’s right. The words are important.
She bites her tongue.
Pushing the comforter to the foot of the bed, Kaz leans over and Brenda notices his erection firmly present beneath the sheet. There it is. Right there. Close enough to touch.
And she does.
Just as Kaz pulls down on the navy blue sheet, freeing her legs from its seaweed grip, Brenda grabs his cock and holds it. Just holds it, just grips the base and holds it. His tip seeps a clear pearl of precome. As it slides down that slit at the base of his cockhead, she dives in.
She doesn’t know why. In fact, she sees this happening from outside herself, from across the room, and all the while asks, Why? Why am I licking him, sucking him, letting him win? Why?
She hasn’t consciously been holding out on him. It was more a matter of not wanting this, not wanting sex or touch or intimacy of any kind, not until he came around and admitted she was right.
Draping her breasts across his thigh, she curls her body around his and for the first time it occurs to her that maybe she isn’t right. Her sister’s always sticking that perfect little nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s not the most comforting notion— actually, it makes her feel like an idiot—but Kaz was right.
Fuck. He was right.
She laughs, and he asks, “What?” but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she tosses one arm around his shoulder and pulls herself up to his mouth, kissing him deeply. She won’t let go of his cock, and he’s still half-laughing while they kiss, but it’s been almost a week since she’s heard him laugh and she can’t get enough.
His dick pulses in her grip, and her hand moves easily up and down the slick shaft. He probably wants her to bow into his lap and finish the job, but not tonight. Her pussy is a slick void, heavy with arousal, and she wants to feel him inside of her.
She wants it now.
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