Page 78 of Wintertime Love (Holiday 2)

But we’re not home. The house is filled with three nosy women and two toddlers who love pointing out locked doors and demanding that they be opened.

The wicked look in Clara’s eyes makes me swallow and I’m about to warn her when she rubs her hand against the bulge in my pants. I grind my teeth as I warn, “You’re asking to be punished.”

She grins. “So?”

I have her against the wall in an instant, my mouth on hers as I hold her hands hostage above her head, my hand rubbing against her pussy over the cloth of her jeans.

She moans in my mouth, letting out small helpless sounds, bucking against my hand which is torturing her.

Her cries make me even harder and for a second, I debate taking her in the upstairs bathroom when I hear the familiar sound of my son talking excitedly.

In a second, Clara is released and I force h

er to stand in front of me, so I that I can calm down and not traumatize my child.

Eric exits the kitchen, crumbs on his mouth and he stares at us.

We stare back at him.

The silence is awkward for us and curious for him.

Deciding to break it, he points at us and say loudly, “Mom, why is your face red?”

Clara doesn’t have much of a chance to say anything before my grandmother walks in, leaning heavily on her cane. It takes her under a minute to realize what we had been up to, and she gives us both a disapproving look. “There are children present.”

“Gram, gram.” Eric looks up at her, “Why is Mama red?”

It’s Aunt Vee who saves the day by scooping him up and dragging him back in. “Come help me ice the gingerbread men.”

I grin and look down at Clara just as she elbows me in the stomach, and makes her escape.

Only me and my grandmother are left in the room.

She sighs. “Can’t you two practice any self restraint?”

“She started it!”

My grandmother scoffs at this. “I don’t think so.”

For some reason, despite Clara not being of noble birth as my grandmother likes to put it, she’s oddly taken with my wife so everything is usually my fault in her eyes.

I just roll my eyes.

Then she asks, “Are you attending Elaine’s wedding in March?”

My demeanor grows cold. “No. And you don’t have to go either.”

“Cecelia personally came to invite me. She wants to mend—”

“They’re just scared of what I can do to them. Go if you want to but my family has nothing to do with them. Besides, Danny and Sharon are getting married in March and I’m the best man.”

A knock on the front door has me walking over and opening it, to reveal Nick and Lucia standing there with a basket.

Lucia is beaming and her protruding stomach is hidden by the huge basket in her hands. “We’re delivering the annual Christmas muffins.” She grins. “And to rub it in to Clara that the clinic won the Christmas Decoration contest this year.”

“You cheated!” my wife’s loud voice accuses from behind me.

“Did not!” Lucia exclaims, cheerfully and then turns to her husband. “Tell her I didn’t cheat.”

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