My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
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I exploded, shaking and growling as I came. She came with me, her legs shaking violently as her whole body fell into a wild dance of ecstasy. Spent, I settled down beside her, and she curled into my arms. I pulled the covers up and over our shoulders, ducking beneath our chins as she smiled in her already dozing sleep.

Another perfect night. Another perfect sleep.

EPILOGUE

MELANIE

The last of the customers was almost out the door, and the party had more or less started in the backroom already. Christmas lights were strung up from one end of the store to the other, crisscrossing and flashing red and green and white faintly in the florescent light of the store, but not for long. Soon enough, those would be turned off, and all that would be lighting the store would be those Christmas lights, just as they had every night I had closed up all December.

It was Christmas Eve, and the store was closing at six, giving last-minute shoppers a chance to grab food or gifts before the entire town of Murdock was closed up until the twenty-sixth. As soon as the last customer was gone, I was going to open the door to the backroom, and all our friends were going to flood the floor, bringing with them the party supplies and the merriment of the season.

We could have gone to any one of their houses, or even the house that was now mine and Victor’s, the childhood home he had grown up in, which had recently become available. But the second I had the idea to do it in the store, Victor was all about it and pitched it to the boys and their wives. Carmela was by my side decorating as much as she could, and by the time Christmas Eve had rolled around, all that remained was to run the store and then party.

Cots were set up in the back and in the office suite, just in case someone had too much to drink. Mallory and Allison had gone insane helping me prepare, spending much of the day in the bakery section of the store, working with a cook from Mero’s to build a menu and little finger food to pair with the alcohol. Carmela had been a wonderful taste tester, and I had done my fair share of grading the sweet treats as they came out of the oven.

When the door opened, it was like a stampede of joyful revelers, and I giggled as Victor picked me up and spun me as the music turned up loud and jaunty Christmas tunes filled the store. Amy and Norma joined us for the party, and I poured them each a drink as I headed back to the front of the store to join Victor and prepare for the gift exchange.

It had been a game of Secret Santa, and I had drawn Camden. I had hoped for Victor or Carmela, but the colossal pro-wrestling belt-themed belt buckle was a huge hit, and he strutted around the store wearing it, making the boys laugh and building anticipation for the next gift exchange.

Victor ended up getting a vintage record from one of his favorite bands growing up and was delighted to find out it had come from Graham, who had somehow gotten the band to personally autograph it for him. He had no idea that the record and the autographs were my idea after Graham casually mentioned that he’d played a celebrity golf tournament with the lead singer last spring.

When it was my time to open a gift, I felt butterflies in my stomach and a surprising amount of anxiety. What if I didn’t like whatever it was? Or worse, what if I made the person who got it for me upset by not reacting the correct way? My cheeks flushed and my palms began to sweat as I peeled the wrapping paper.

When I got it off, I realized there was no need for all that. Not only was I not upset about the gift, but I was also delighted by it.

It was a large picture showing my family tree, going back as far as the researcher had Victor hired could go and following all the way down to Victor and me, with pictures and paintings in place beside the names. It was so thoughtful and required so much work that I knew who had done it. A sly grin was returned as I stared at my husband. He shrugged innocently.

“I didn’t rig it, I swear. Your name just came up!” he said, feigning innocence.

“Uh huh,” I said. “I don’t know how you did it, but I’m glad. This is wonderful.”

“Hey, hang on a second,” Carmela said, looking at the picture a little more closely than I expected any of them to.

“What?” I asked.

“Right here,” she said, pointing to a little empty spot below Victor’s and my names. “There’s a blank spot.”


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