Page 23 of Santa's Mistletoe Playbook

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the tiled bench seat, eyeing the white, sudsy lather scudding down Bryson’s chest and abdomen.

He did as she ordered. She rinsed them both off before she straddled him. Ever so slowly, she carefully guided him inside of her. She moaned as she gradually took him in, and he lifted his hips to increase her pleasure.

Danica slowly moved up and down on him, loving how he felt. When she released, tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, blending with the shower water. Out flowed the stress, remorse, and guilt she’d carried after breaking her promises to Bryson.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he breathed in her ear while their bodies joined.

“Back atcha, Doc.” Her voice tremored, and he held her tight.

Nothing in Danica’s wildest dreams compared to the glorious combo of make-up sex, Christmas Day, and a marriage proposal—her resulting orgasm hurtled her through the entire Milky Way Galaxy—she must have orbited it several times.

When Bryson exploded, Danica felt his warm liquid swim inside her. Now that they were to be married, she willed his boys to swim up and gift her with bundles of joy. She figured, why not? They may as well get started creating a new family.

After they showered, Bryson carried her to bed, where they made love until neither of them could move.

“Oh Bry, I love you so,” she whispered.

Never again would she break a promise to her best friend and future husband. But more importantly, she would keep her promise to herself to get the help she needed to understand and control this problem that had plagued her for so long.

She wasn’t willing to lose the love of her life.I’ve got this, I know I do.

Bryson planted himself beside her, kissing her neck. “Next year, we’ll go to Sedona for our honeymoon. I promise.” He kissed her with such fiery intensity that everything else dissolved into forgiveness.

She broke the kiss to whisper, “I’m holding you to that promise.”

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