Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett
CONNELL turned up the collar of his jacket against the cold mist rising from the Sa...
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Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett
CONNELL turned up the collar of his jacket against the cold mist rising from the Savannah riverfront and then buried his hands back in the pockets of his jeans. He hadn’t expected the weather to be quite this cold, even in December—it was the South, after all—but it had grown steadily cooler and more overcast as the afternoon wore on. Now, close to sunset, it was chilly enough that standing on the sidewalk was starting to feel uncomfortable. He wouldn’t be surprised if it dropped below freezing tonight, though he hoped to be indoors—in the warmth of his lover’s arms—long before then. The steam rising from the river was condensing into a light mist in the air around him, and Connell was thankful for the rainbowstriped scarf his sister Kate had insisted he open as an early Christmas present. His plane had landed around midday, and he’d taken a taxi straight from the airport to the tiny pocket park on the Riverwalk. It was empty then except for a handful of holiday tourists, so he’d spent some time exploring the shops lining the river, festooned for the holidays with sparkling white lights and ropes of evergreen bound with red ribbons. He couldn’t resist stopping in the year-round Christmas store, finding the perfect ornament and stowing it carefully in his backpack. He hoped it would help him explain why he’d flown all the way from London on Christmas Eve to be with the man he loved. By the time he’d made it back to the far end of the Riverwalk, he could hear the soulful notes of a saxophone reaching out to entice him. 2
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett As much as he wanted to see the surprise on Spence’s face when he greeted him, Connell couldn’t resist watching his lover first, from the shelter of a doorway across the cobblestoned street. The sax’s vibrato added a sultry tone to even the most traditional carols, echoing the seduction that had called to Connell through Spence’s music the first time they met, when Connell had come to Savannah on a weekend trip to meet friends. The horn’s liquid notes had drawn Connell to Spence like a fly to honey, and Spence had proven even more irresistible than his music. Connell had never met anyone as open and honest and genuinely caring as Spence, and from the first time their lips met in a tentative kiss that quickly turned passionate, his heart was lost. They’d explored Savannah and gotten to know each other and made love again and again during the weekend of Connell’s visit, and he knew he’d already fallen a little in love with the musician after those few short days. Kissing Spence goodbye at the airport had been one of the saddest moments he could remember. Over the months that followed, they’d kept in touch through online chats and long late-night phone calls, talking about everything and nothing—work, music, books, art, politics, backgrounds, friends— and rather than wearing itself out as in his experience long-distance friendships often did, with each contact Connell’s attraction grew stronger. When a business conference brought Connell back to the States several months later, he’d added a few extra days to the trip to visit Spence again. They’d barely made it out of Spence’s apartment the entire weekend, and the second time they’d parted had been even harder than the first. If all went as Connell planned, he’d never have to face that heartache again. The saxophonist’s mood seemed to darken with the weather, more joyful carols giving way to melancholy renditions of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and “Blue Christmas.” A fine drizzle 3
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett began to fall, dampening Connell’s dark curly hair even beneath the shelter of the doorway and making him shiver, but the musician didn’t seem to notice, his notes sliding sensuously from one bluesy tune to another. He nodded thanks without lifting his head when a couple holding hands tossed some folded bills into the instrument case, its hand-lettered sign indicating that all contributions would be donated to the Chatham county foster care program. When “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” transitioned into a soulful version of “Merry Christmas, Darling,” Connell couldn’t hold back any longer. Crossing the street, he pulled a twenty from his wallet and dropped it into the velvet-lined case, stepping closer to where Spence fingered the horn with his head down and eyes closed, as if he were playing for himself alone. “Do you take requests?” Connell asked in a voice as sultry as the mournful tones from his lover’s horn. Spence’s eyes snapped open as the voice he’d been dreaming of murmured in his ear. “Connell!” he cried out, only the neck-strap of the saxophone keeping the cherished instrument from crashing to the ground as his arms reached out to pull his lover close. “What are you doing here?” Connell swept off Spence’s velour Santa hat and buried his hands in the long, tawny hair, pulling his face down for a slow, passionate kiss. Spence’s lips were cool, but his mouth was warm, opening to welcome Connell’s tongue dancing against his. Not until the press of the horn wedged between them became painful did he lift his head. “Mmnnnn….” Spence purred, swinging the sax to one side so he could mold Connell’s body even closer to his, threading a hand into his lover’s dark hair. “You’re the best Christmas present I could possibly get. How long can you stay?” he asked, punctuating his words with 4
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett soft kisses against Connell’s neck. “Can we go to your place?” Connell requested, sidestepping the question for the moment. “I’m starting to get really chilled, and your hands are freezing,” he added, warming Spence’s palms between his, grateful to see his musician was at least wearing shoes this time. In warmer weather Spence was usually barefoot when he played. “Let’s get warm and dry, and then we can talk.” Connell’s evasive answer made Spence uneasy, but he tried to ignore his apprehension. He hadn’t expected to spend the holiday with Connell; he’d be grateful for however much time they’d have together. Releasing his lover reluctantly, he knelt beside his instrument case, emptying the money into a Ziploc bag before sliding the strap over his head and settling the sax into place. “Pretty good take for Christmas Eve.” “You’re much more appealing than some fake Santa ringing a bell next to a kettle,” Connell observed, taking Spence’s free hand as they walked along the riverfront to the musician’s car. “Though you need to work on your selection. Those were some pretty gloomy tunes near the end, love.” “I’m suddenly feeling much more cheerful,” Spence countered, pausing for another slow kiss before stowing the saxophone in the trunk and driving the short distance to his apartment. Setting the sax case on the floor inside the door, Spence flicked on the switch that lit the small tree he’d set up in front of the window overlooking the river. Connell couldn’t help but notice that the space below the tree was empty of packages, and he was struck again by the sadness he’d sensed while listening to his lover play. “Spence, you weren’t out there today because you didn’t have anywhere else to go, were you?” 5
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett Spence pulled Connell into a hug. “I could have headed up to New York to spend the holidays with my family, and I had lots of invitations from people at the restaurant to spend Christmas with them.” When Connell had first met Spence, dressed in ragged jeans and playing for tips, he had briefly wondered whether the musician was homeless. He’d learned that far from living off his sidewalk earnings, Spence owned the restaurant he’d ordered the food from for their first meal in a secluded riverside grotto. Remembering the outcome of that sensual feast could still make Connell flush with arousal. Spence spent at least some time every day at the restaurant, but most of the staff had been with him for years, leaving him free to play along the Riverwalk several times a week and donate whatever he took in to a variety of local charities. Connell had asked once whether he’d ever wanted to make his living as a musician, but Spence shook his head. “I play at the restaurant once in a while when friends want to jam, but it isn’t about money. It’s about sharing the music.” “Why didn’t you take one of them up on their invitation?” Connell asked, though he suspected he knew the answer. Spence shrugged awkwardly. “Being around other people wasn’t very appealing when I couldn’t be with the one I really wanted, you know?” Connell framed Spence’s face with his hands, kissing him gently. “I do know. I was miserable even though I was with my mum and sis. It took Kate to make me realize that where I really wanted to be was here, with you.” “I’m glad you came,” Spence said, his hands finding their natural resting place on Connell’s hips. “When your card arrived, it made me miss you so much,” Connell admitted. “I couldn’t even open it. I just stood there holding it, wishing 6
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett I could be with you, until Kate asked me what there was in the Christmas post to make me look like I’d just lost my best friend.” He nuzzled his head against Spence’s shoulder, turning to press a kiss against the light stubble of his lover’s chin. “When I told her, she dragged me to the computer and helped me to book myself onto the next flight to the States.” “You didn’t open the card?” Spence repeated, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. “I was afraid I’d lose it if I did. I saved it to open when we were together.” Spence grinned. “Why don’t we get comfortable, and then you can open it,” he suggested. Gently unwinding the colorful scarf from around Connell’s neck, he pressed a kiss into the base of his throat before unzipping the leather jacket. “Nice scarf.” “Christmas present from Kate.” Connell was busily working Spence from his own jacket while trying to keep him in his arms at the same time. “Though I told her I didn’t need to advertise anymore. I’ve already found the only man I want.” Giving up on getting Spence out of his coat with only one hand, he pulled his lover’s head forward into a deep kiss, sating himself momentarily on the taste of his musician’s talented mouth before reluctantly stepping back long enough for them to both shrug out of their jackets. “Why don’t you go sit by the tree?” Spence suggested, taking the coats to hang in the entryway closet. “I’ll open some wine and be right with you.” Connell pulled a pair of overstuffed pillows and a soft, fluffy afghan that looked hand knitted from the couch and arranged them on the floor in front of the tree. The tiny lights blurred with the more distant lights from the river as he gazed out the window, his senses 7
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett already tingling with awareness of the man he heard moving around in the kitchen, humming softly. Then a hand touched his shoulder, and Spence was kneeling beside him, holding out a glass of wine. The lights’ reflection sparkled in the crystal as Spence touched their glasses, making them clink softly. “To spending Christmas together.” “Together,” Connell echoed, sipping the rich red Merlot. Setting the glass aside, he leaned forward to taste Spence’s lips, the wine even more potent when sipped from his lover’s mouth. Spence moaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping out to tangle with Connell’s until they were both breathless. Clutching Spence’s shoulder to pull him closer, Connell dipped his head for another kiss, one hand moving to the buttons of Spence’s shirt. Sliding the first circlet free of its placket, his fingers slipped under the fabric, coasting over the light hair that dusted his lover’s chest. When the questing fingers found a peaked nipple, Spence gasped and broke the kiss, sitting back on his heels. “Why don’t you open your card,” he panted huskily, “before….” “Before what?” Connell purred, slipping another button open and pressing a kiss to the vee of chest he’d revealed. “Before I strip us both naked and make love to you on the floor in front of the tree,” Spence growled, tipping Connell’s chin up to nip at his lips. “You’re not expecting me to say no to that, are you?” “Don’t you want to open your present first?” Spence’s voice broke as Connell’s lips closed around the pebbled nub over his heart. The hand under Connell’s chin slid around to burrow into his hair, holding him closer, Spence’s back instinctively arching to offer more of himself to his lover. 8
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett Releasing the swollen nipple, Connell tugged with his teeth at the curled hair coating Spence’s chest until he made his way across the broad expanse. His tongue swirled around the second nub already standing at attention for him, rising and falling with Spence’s rasping breath. “Conn,” Spence groaned, fingers tightening in Connell’s hair. “I am opening my present,” Connell murmured, giving Spence what they both wanted and closing his lips around the straining bud. He pulled Spence’s shirttails free from his jeans, popping the remaining buttons and spreading the two sides open, exposing all of Spence’s chest to his admiring gaze. He kissed his way upward in a slow, meandering trail toward Spence’s mouth, hands skating over the muscled planes, relearning all his lover’s most sensitive spots. Spence’s hips bucked when Connell’s palm brushed the susceptible flesh of his abdomen, groaning when it moved on without dipping beneath the waist of his jeans. “Don’t tell me you’re the kind who never tears open the wrapping paper,” he ground out, his own fingers sliding underneath Connell’s sweater in search of warm skin. “A gift this wonderful is worth taking the time to appreciate properly,” Connell countered. Reclaiming Spence’s mouth, he poured his love and longing into the kiss, leaving Spence in no doubt of the sincerity of his appreciation. Sliding the shirt off Spence’s shoulders, he eased his lover back against the pillows, their lips still joined. Spence shifted his hips, bending his knees and spreading his thighs so Connell could kneel between them. Their cocks brushed as Connell shifted forward, drawing a hiss from Spence’s mouth that Connell swallowed in his own. Despite his lover’s impatience, he was determined not to rush this. He didn’t have Spence’s skill with music, couldn’t find easy words to tell Spence how much he’d come to love him, so he would just have to show him. 9
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett Holding Spence’s shoulder down when his lover tried to prevent him from breaking their kiss, he traced the beloved features—forehead, brows, cheeks, lips, chin—with fingers that caressed but didn’t linger, following the featherlight touch with equally gentle lips. Fingers and mouth moved down the long throat, pausing at the pulse that beat so strongly in the hollow where neck met chest. Connell combed tender fingers through the cloud of light chest hair, the pressure of Spence’s hands against his back guiding his lips to the places that gave the most pleasure, though not an inch of the toned chest escaped Connell’s loving ministrations. Spence’s abdomen quivered when Connell’s tongue circled his navel. Dipping into the hollow with his tongue won him a full-wrought shiver and a deep groan. Spence reached forward to run a knuckle over Connell’s chin, his thumb brushing the damp bottom lip. Connell sucked the pad of the thumb into his mouth, teasing the whorled skin with his tongue, and Spence moaned. “Conn, please….” Connell was surprised to find his hands shaking as he worked open Spence’s belt and unzipped his jeans. A dark spot already stained the front of Spence’s boxers where his cock had leaked through the silk, and Connell couldn’t resist leaning down to close his mouth over the damp fabric. Spence groaned his name, voice cracking when Connell eased his cock through the slit, too eager to taste all of Spence to even work his jeans over his hips. Finesse lost in the urgency of his hunger, Connell sucked greedily at the hard shaft, not stopping until the head bumped the back of his throat. He swallowed around it, tongue rubbing over the throbbing vein. His own pulse pounded in his ears, almost drowning out the frantic sounds Spence was making as he bobbed his head, trying to take him deeper still. Connell splayed a hand over Spence’s stomach, the other cupping his heavy sac through the thin layer of silk. 10
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett “Conn,” Spence rasped, fingers digging into his lover’s shoulders as he struggled not to thrust into the decadent heat of his throat. Connell swallowed again, and Spence wailed, heat flaring from his groin to blaze along every nerve in his body. “Oh God, Connell, yesss… Conn!” The hot splash of Spence coming down his throat was nearly enough to push Connell over the edge himself. He swallowed the salty flood of seed, pulling Spence up into a heated kiss as soon as his lover stopped pulsing beneath him. Spence’s tongue surged into his mouth, a strong arm leaning him back to rest against the sofa cushions as the other hand fumbled with Connell’s zipper, intent on returning just as much pleasure as his lover had bestowed on him. Already teetering on the brink, the touch of Spence’s hand closing around his cock was all it took to trigger Connell’s own climax. His lover stroked him through the shuddering aftershocks, bending down to lick him clean before tucking him tenderly back into his jeans and refastening his own. Connell sank in a boneless slump in the circle of Spence’s arms, leaning against him until his breathing steadied. “Good thing I didn’t open that present in public,” he murmured with a sated smile. “It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” Spence answered with his own wicked grin. “Give me little time to recover, and you can unwrap it again.” Taking a sip of his wine—grateful they’d somehow managed not to knock over the glasses—Connell reached for his backpack and rummaged inside, pulling out the oversized envelope he’d brought with him from England. “Speaking of unwrapping, I guess it’s safe to open this now.” He slipped a finger under the flap, pulling out a cardboard folder and another envelope. Opening the folder, he found himself looking at a sketch of himself, leaning against a wrought-iron 11
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett park railing with the Savannah River in the background. “Did you do this?” he gasped, pulling Spence into a kiss when he nodded. “When?” “I had lots of time once you were gone,” Spence answered softly. “I missed you, but drawing you made me feel a little closer to you, remembering you here.” He swallowed, nodding toward the envelope. “Aren’t you going to open the other part of your gift?” he asked, recalling Connell’s attention from the sketch. “I’m going to have this framed,” Connell said, opening the flap to the smaller package. “I didn’t even know you drew—” He broke off into a chuckle as he pulled an airline ticket out of the envelope. “I guess great minds think alike.” “I didn’t expect you to give up your holiday with your family,” Spence explained, “but I hoped you’d be willing to see in the New Year with me.” He stood quickly, taking a small box from the fireplace mantel and sitting back on the floor next to Connell, placing it in his hand. “I wanted you here beside me to give you this.” Opening the lid, Connell found a silver band edged with a delicate twisting knot pattern nestled in a bed of cotton. “It was my father’s wedding ring,” Spence said. “I know technically it wouldn’t be legal here or in England, but I want to ask you to spend the rest of our lives together.” Drawing a deep breath, Connell threw his arms around Spence’s neck, feeling the tension that had infused his lover ease, replaced by a spark of joy that lit Spence’s deep blue eyes. “There’s nothing I want more than to stay with you forever.” “Forever sounds perfect to me,” Spence agreed readily, claiming Connell’s lips in a possessive kiss that lasted until they both had to come up for air. He slid the ring onto Connell’s finger and kissed the palm before interlacing their hands. “Not that I want to say anything 12
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett to dissuade you, but will it be a problem for you to give up your job? And what about your family?” “As Kate reminded me, I’m a web designer—I do ninety percent of my work online anyway, so it really doesn’t matter whether I’m in England or here. Half my clients are based in the U.S. anyway. And as much as I love Mum and Kate, you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. We’ll just have to take turns going to see them and having them come here to visit us.” “I’d love to meet them. It sounds like Kate is on our side already, but what about your mother? Will she be okay with your moving here to live with me?” “Mum never thinks anyone is good enough for either of her babies, but I know as soon as she meets you, you’ll win her over.” Connell’s brown eyes shone as he kissed Spence gently. “Once she sees how happy you make me, she’ll be fine. What about your family?” he asked in turn. “My family’s pretty much given up hope of my ever finding anyone,” Spence chuckled. “My mother will be so glad I’ve finally found someone to meet my exacting standards, she’ll be fawning all over you.” “I’m glad you have such exacting standards, since it meant you were still available when we met,” Connell rejoined. “I’m easy to please,” Spence insisted. “I just demand perfection. Luckily for me, I met you.” Connell’s protest that he was far from perfect was swallowed in another slow, thorough kiss. “It’s too bad you didn’t open the card before you left, though— you could have saved yourself the cost of another ticket,” Spence observed when Connell leaned back to rest against his chest. 13
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett “I’d have to go back anyway to pack up the things I want to bring back here,” Connell answered. “Maybe you could fly back with me— that way you’d get to meet Mum and Kate right away.” “Good idea,” Spence agreed. “If you’d like, we could fly back to London right after the holiday. With both of us to help you pack, it shouldn’t take too long. We could spend a few days visiting your mother and sister, and be back here in time for the fireworks over the river on New Year’s Eve.” “Sounds good to me.” Anything that didn’t require him going back to England without Spence was fine with Connell. “My mother’s birthday is in February,” Spence went on thoughtfully. “I can’t think of anything that would please her more as a birthday gift than for me to bring you to New York to meet her.” “Let’s do it, then. And speaking of gifts,” Connell said, “I have something for you too.” He burrowed into his backpack again, handing Spence the bag from the Christmas store. Spence undid the cushioned wrappings to extract a finely detailed, hand-blown glass saxophone. “I thought it would be the perfect first ornament for our Christmas tree, since it’s what brought us together in the first place,” Connell explained. “I love it.” Spence hung the ornament with care in pride of place at the top of the tree. “Love you,” he added, turning to Connell and taking him into his arms. “Love you too.” Connell’s fingers played with Spence’s tawny hair, brushing it behind his ears with a gentle kiss. “I don’t have a ring to offer you, but I came here meaning to ask if I could stay. So I guess in a way I’m your Christmas present too.” “Just what I always wanted.” Spence’s hands slid under Connell’s 14
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett sweater, guiding him between his legs as their mouths met again, opening deeply, their bodies straining to unite at every possible point. A tremor of excitement racked Connell’s frame when their resurgent erections brushed together beneath the denim of their jeans. “Bedroom,” he gasped when the necessity to breathe finally forced them apart. “Now.” Spence was already pulling the bright red sweater over Connell’s head as they made their way the short distance to the bedroom, still wrapped in their embrace. He toed off his shoes and socks while Connell fell onto the bed after doing the same. Spence crawled up Connell’s body until he could reach his mouth again, knees straddling either side of his lover’s hips. “Still too many clothes,” Connell complained, soothing the words with a gentle nip at Spence’s sculpted chin. “Kneel up so I can undo your belt.” Taking advantage of the space between them, Spence worked at the button and zipper of Connell’s jeans, pausing only long enough to kick off his own. Connell pushed onto his elbows and raised his hips to let Spence slide the jeans down his legs, moaning when their bare cocks rubbed together at last. Gliding a palm up Spence’s hip to the small of his back, he urged his lover forward until he could close his lips around one of the small pink nipples, knowing they’d still be sensitive from his earlier attentions. Spence moaned and threw his head back in bliss, his thumbs rubbing over Connell’s darker nipples until they pebbled. “So good,” he husked, his hips rocking in an instinctive rhythm that dragged the silky skin of their erections together through the growing pool of fluid leaking from them both. “Been way too long.” “It’s been half an hour at most,” Connell laughed, gasping when 15
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett Spence dipped his head to nuzzle at first one side of his chest and then the other. “Too long,” Spence repeated, following the thin trail of dark hair down Connell’s abdomen. “That was just taking the edge off. Need to love you the way you deserve to be loved.” His tongue lapped over the head of Connell’s cock and then swirled around it, savoring the taste and scent of his lover and even more the deliciously needy sounds he was coaxing from him. “Love me, Spence,” Connell pleaded, needing the physical union of their bodies to mirror the union they’d pledged to each other. He worked a hand between them to grasp his lover’s rigid shaft, spreading his legs in wanton invitation. “Hold that thought,” Spence groaned, swinging a knee over Connell’s torso to roll to one side and scramble in the drawer of his nightstand. After searching for a moment, he came up with a seriously depleted bottle of lube. “Guess we used more of this than I thought the last time you were here.” “Better stock up, because I plan on going through a lot more,” Connell chuckled, tugging at the portion of Spence’s anatomy he still held in his hand to urge his lover’s return. “Gonna need to conserve this ’til we can get to a store, then,” Spence countered. “After all, it is a holiday weekend.” Instead of straddling Connell’s hips again, he knelt between them, curling his palms beneath the slender buttocks to raise them to his mouth. Connell’s laughter changed to a moan of pure pleasure when Spence’s tongue ran up the cleft between his cheeks. Parting them with his thumbs, Spence stabbed his slick muscle into the puckered portal, the rich musky taste sharpening his own desire. Working the clenching ring to the chorus of Connell’s moans until it was wet and 16
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett relaxed around him, he gasped in shock when a handful of cool gel encircled his cock. “Ready for you,” Connell demanded, pulling Spence upward. “I can’t wait a minute longer to feel you inside me.” He guided the head of Spence’s cock to where he ached for it, their groans sounding together as their bodies slid into the most intimate of homecomings. Connell’s legs wrapped around his lover’s hips, the change in position dragging the head of Spence’s cock over his sweet spot. “God, yeah,” he sighed, “just like that, Spence, don’t stop….” “Not gonna stop,” Spence promised hoarsely, “not ever. Love you so much, Conn.” Leaning forward, he closed his lips over Connell’s, his tongue matching the slow glide of his cock, their bodies moving as one toward an inevitable climax. As much as he wanted to make this moment last forever, the warmth of Connell surrounding him filled him with so much joy that Spence’s body couldn’t contain it, overflowing into his lover at the same instant that Connell cried out beneath him in bliss. Connell rejoiced in the weight of his lover’s sated body pressing against his until Spence rolled them to their sides; then he slipped from the bed, returning a moment later with a warm washcloth in one hand and Spence’s saxophone in the other. Setting the instrument reverently in a nest of pillows, he cleaned his lover’s body with equal reverence and then washed himself before returning the cloth to the bathroom and settling back onto the bed. “You still owe me a request,” he announced, handing Spence the sax. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, Spence slipped the 17
Home for Christmas * Nicki Bennett horn’s strap around his neck as Connell knelt behind him, resting his head on the musician’s shoulder. “What would you like me to play?” Connell wrapped his hands around Spence’s chest, so he could feel it expand with each of his lover’s breaths. “Every song you played this afternoon was about being alone at Christmas,” he answered. “I want to hear you play something happy.” Spence turned his head for a quick kiss, then raised the sax to his lips. It took Connell a moment to recognize the bluesy tune flowing from the horn as the opening notes of “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” “That’s easy,” Connell murmured in reply. “I’m spending it, and every night from now on, right here with you.” The trill of Spence’s horn was every bit as joyous as Connell’s voice whispering in his ear. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
READ about how Spence and Connell met in the short story Riverwalk by Rhianne Aile and Nicki Bennett, published by Dreamspinner Press.
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
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Got Mistletoe Madness?
The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Growing up in Chicago, NICKI B ENNETT spent every Saturday at the central library, losing herself in the world of books. A voracious reader, she eventually found it difficult to find enough of the kind of stories she liked to read and decided to start writing them herself.
Home for Christmas ©Copyright Nicki Bennett, 2009 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com Cover Design by Mara McKennen This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America December 2009 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-320-9