Rated: X-mas Read online

  Praise for the writing of Rachel Bo

  Strength in Numbers 2: Danger in Discovery

  Ms. Bo writes with such emotion and passion…This book touched me, and made me think. Ms. Bo, thank you for a poignant book that will always have a spot on my keeper shelf and definitely a place in my heart.

  -- Michelle Naumann, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Praise for the writing of Stephanie Vaughan

  Sierra Secrets 2: Cruel to be Kind

  Sierra Secrets 2: Cruel To Be Kind is a keeper! Ms. Vaughan creates characters that are believable and draw you in... You just know from the beginning that they are going to be great together. Sometimes a little tie-me up is just what you need….

  -- Natalie, Enchanted in Romance

  Praise for the writing of Barbara Karmazin

  On the Edge of Time

  I must admit—I am a huge Sci-Fi fan and of course, love romance. Now, I’m a huge Barbara Karmazin fan. Why? Because On The Edge Of Time is one of the best sci-fi romance blends I’ve ever read.

  -- Tina Burns, Road to Romance

  Strength in Numbers 2: Danger in Discovery, On the Edge of Time, and Sierra Secrets 2: Cruel to be Kind are now available from Loose Id.

  RATED: X-MAS

  Rachel Bo

  Stephanie Vaughan ! Barbara Karmazin

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  DISCLAIMER: Many of the acts described in our BDSM/fetish titles can be dangerous. Loose Id publishes these stories for members of the community in which these acts are known and practiced safely. If you have an interest in the pleasures and pains you find described herein, we urge you to seek out advice and guidance from knowledgeable persons. Please do not try any new sexual practice, whether it be fire, rope, or whip play, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  * * * * *

  This book is rated:

  For substantial explicit sexual content, graphic language and content that some readers may find objectionable (BDSM, ménage, violence, hermaphroditism, homoerotic sex, sexual contact with weres/weres in animal form).

  Rated: X-mas

  Rachel Bo, Stephanie Vaughan, & Barbara Karmazin

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  “Twice Blessed,” Copyright © November 2004 by Rachel Bo

  “Home for the Holidays,” Copyright © November 2004 by Stephanie Vaughan

  “Christmas Noir,” Copyright © November 2004 by Barbara Karmazin

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 1-59632-044-3

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editors: Raven McKnight, Linda Kusiolek, & Erin Mullarkey

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  www.loose-id.com

  TWICE BLESSED

  Rachel Bo

  Prologue

  Jenny tossed her hair, loving the way the wind whipped its eager fingers through her silken strands. Flying down I-80 from New York to California, toward a new city, a new job, a new way of life, Jenny felt genuinely alive for the first time in her life.

  The radio began to buzz, and she fiddled with the dial, searching for a good hard rock station. That was one of the problems with these lonely stretches of highway -- no decent stations within range. Jenny’s mind wandered as she made her way slowly through the frequencies. After working for six years as a nurse, she had finally chucked it all. She’d never wanted to go into nursing in the first place, but her parents had refused to pay for her to get a degree in an art-related field, which was where she felt she really shined. So Jenny, ever the dutiful daughter, went to nursing school, graduated with honors, and lived the life her parents wanted her to live.

  She smiled as she heard the opening guitar riffs of one of her favorite songs. Turning up the volume, she belted out the lyrics along with the band. That was another thing her parents hadn’t been able to understand -- her taste in music. For years, she’d only listened to the music she loved when out of the house. That’s the way much of her life had been -- trying to conform to the vision her parents had for her, instead of being herself.

  Once she entered the workforce, however, she discovered that she liked herself much better when she listened to her own desires. As the band on the radio sang about starting over, Jenny grinned. Being herself felt so good, she had started planning for something different barely two months out of college.

  The song ended and Jenny tuned out the commercial chatter as she reflected on the past few years. It had been an exhausting time, but she had no regrets. She had picked up as much overtime as she could, and had taken night classes at the art institute. When she had her second degree in hand, she applied for an eclectic mix of jobs on both the east and west coasts.

  In the end, it had all paid off with an exciting offer from a company in the entertainment industry -- a position that would capitalize on her lifelong interest in costuming and her excellent design and sewing skills. Her sample designs had landed her a job as a costume designer and seamstress with a fledgling company out in California.

  Giving in to the overwhelming bubble of joy rising up inside, she let out a faint “Whoop!” It felt so good, she whooped again, laughing at herself as the wind snatched her voice, carrying it away.

  The top was down on the red Mustang convertible she’d purchased as a reward for herself when she got the news, but the bright sun baked this stretch of road in Arizona, and the warm breeze did nothing to alleviate heat like an oven. Of course, they just had to want me in August. She caught a glimpse of her sun-pinkened cheeks in the rearview mirror. There’s nothing worse than driving across the country in the hottest month of the year. Determined to prove her wrong, a trickle of sweat meandered between Jenny’s shoulder blades, collecting at her bra strap, which clung damply to her skin. She squirmed and immediately amended her previous thought. Unless it’s a sticky bra.

  Jenny glanced in the rearview mirror. Her convertible and a blue truck several car-lengths distant were the only vehicles in sight on this deserted bit of highway. Jenny hesitated, then shrugged. The truck was too far back for anyone inside to see what she was doing, so she reached up under her shirt, deftly unclasping her bra.

  Jenny held on to the wheel with her right hand. The sleeves of her oversized blouse were loose enough for her to slip her fingers inside. Switching hands back and forth on the wheel, she managed to slip off her bra and tug it out from beneath her blouse.

  “Oh!” Jenny gasped and watched in disbelief as an errant gust of wind yanked the silk from b
etween her fingers. Mortified, she followed the garment’s progress as it floated away, dancing in the air, to land snugly up against the window of the blue truck. “Damn.” Heat rushed to her cheeks.

  To her dismay, a lean, brown, unmistakably masculine arm reached out the truck’s passenger-side window and plucked her bra from the windshield. She watched, horrified, as the vehicle began to pick up speed. “Shit!”

  Jenny divided her attention between the road and the truck coming up behind her. They probably thought she was some kind of freak -- that she’d tossed her bra at them on purpose. Oh, well; she could handle a few moments of intense embarrassment.

  Then another thought occurred. What if these were not nice people? What if they tried to run her off the road or something? The little convertible could probably outrun them, but she wasn’t sure. Some trucks nowadays could give a sports car a run for its money. They usually took a little longer to get up to speed, though. Maybe if she waited until they got right behind her, then floored the accelerator, she could lose them.

  Jenny watched the mirror. “Just a little bit closer,” she murmured.

  With a sudden burst of speed, the pickup zipped into the left-hand lane and pulled up alongside her. A grinning bronze Adonis with the bluest eyes Jenny had ever seen leaned out the window, holding her bra. “You dropped something!”

  Jenny felt the heat flare in her cheeks again. She snatched at the trailing end of her bra and “Adonis” let go, chuckling as she tucked the wisp of fabric into the side pocket of her purse. “Thanks!” She gave a little wave as she started to pull ahead.

  “Hey, wait!”

  She hesitated, but those damn blue eyes were too tempting, and she felt herself slowing down until the vehicles were even again.

  “Is that all we get?” Adonis’s twin, the driver, was glancing over at her now, hollering. “Where’s our reward?”

  Jenny glanced past the passenger to study the man holding the wheel. She found her attention riveted once more by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. How in the hell could there be two of this heart-stoppingly gorgeous man? The devil was definitely tempting her, and Jenny was in just the right mood to take him up on his offer.

  Pulling her gaze back to the road, knowing she was being stupid, but unable to resist the imp of mischief that was urging her to play their game, she yelled, “What do you want?”

  The two men shared a look, then flashed identical, dazzling smiles. “Give us a peek,” Adonis hollered, pointing toward her chest with his chin.

  The flush in her cheeks abruptly traveled downward, flooding her chest with heat, making her nipples tingle. Despite a quieter, saner voice in her head urging caution, she caught herself smiling back. They were so damn cute, with their shaggy, sun-bleached hair and dark tans. And the light dancing in their eyes was flirty and mischievous -- not dark or dangerous. Her instincts said these guys meant her no harm. And after working for years in a job she didn’t like, because she hadn’t had the backbone to buck her Dad and follow her dreams, Jenny had decided to never ignore those instincts again.

  “What the hell?” she whispered to herself. At twenty-eight, she was still in fine shape, and it wasn’t like she was ever going to see these guys again. She glanced ahead, then checked her rearview mirror again. They still appeared to be the only cars on the road. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she unbuttoned her blouse with one hand, the wild wind whipping her shirt-tails back, exposing her bare breasts.

  Two long, sharp whistles pierced the air. “I’m in love!” Adonis whooped, hanging out the passenger window.

  “Hey!” A brown hand pushed the man back against the seat, and “Adonis 2” gave her a long, lingering inspection, his quick glances smoldering with desire. “Marry me!” he hollered.

  “Hell, no.” His passenger leaned out the window again. “Marry me!”

  Jenny laughed, feeling confident and sexy and wicked and attractive and utterly free for the first time in a long while. “I’ll marry you both,” she said, grinning up at them. “If you can catch me!” With that, she floored the accelerator and flew down the highway, watching the blue truck dwindle to a bright dot in the distance. She took a deep breath and whooped, astonished at what she had just done, but feeling years of tension melt away like wax.

  She focused on the road ahead, just in time to see that she was coming up fast on an eighteen wheeler. Jenny slowed down a little, fumbling for the buttons, fastening her blouse back into place.

  She drove on for six more hours that day. With each glance in the rearview mirror, she told herself that she wasn’t watching for an old, beat-up blue pickup. The handsome strangers never reappeared, and she spent the rest of her trip to California trying to convince herself that she wasn’t disappointed.

  Invitation

  Jenny tucked her socks into her sneakers and set off down the beach, relishing the feel of cool, damp sand beneath her toes. There was a brisk breeze off the ocean today, and she pulled her windbreaker close around her, tugging up the zipper. Santa Monica in November beat New York in winter any day, but it could still get chilly, and the spray off the surf made it colder still. But Jenny always came to the beach when she needed to think.

  In just two short hours, Hartmann Historical Designs was closing down for the holidays, and she still hadn’t decided whether to accept her parents’ invitation. After seven long years, her mom and dad had finally forgiven her for abandoning her career and coming out to California to live with the “beatniks.” She giggled. Even for their own generation, her parents were a bit antiquated.

  Her mother had called two weeks earlier, after Jenny had written them a letter explaining that she’d be at loose ends for six weeks, to invite her to spend that time in New York. Jenny was torn, however. For one thing, she liked the mild California winters. She had never missed the cold, rain, sleet, and freezing temperatures of a New York City winter. Now, the snow at the cabin in Connecticut, that she sometimes missed; but apparently her parents had a whirlwind round of party obligations this holiday season, and they were staying in New York.

  Which was another reason why she was reluctant to go. She’d never been the social butterfly her parents were -- especially her dad. The idea of having to suffer through those interminable parties made her skin crawl.

  But she missed her parents. She’d been surprised at the sudden surge of emotion that flooded her when she heard her mother’s voice on the phone. In all these years, she’d had only Christmas and birthday cards from her parents, even though she’d written them letters faithfully, every few months or so, letting them know how she was doing. Hearing her mother’s voice had brought tears to her eyes, and even her father had picked up the extension long enough to say hello and let her know that, yes, he wanted her there, too.

  A wavelet that was more ambitious than the rest folded over Jenny’s feet, and she worked her toes deep into the swirling sand. Who was she kidding? She had to go. She wanted to see them. They did love her, whatever they thought of her chosen career. And she loved them. And none of them were getting any younger.

  Her mind made up, she veered toward a wooden bench and sat down to let her feet dry so she could tug on her shoes. Then she recovered her car from the parking lot and made her way back to work.

  She opened the door to her office to hear Christmas music blaring on the radio, and to the sight of her assistant, Becca, dancing around the room and singing at the top of her lungs. When Becca caught sight of Jenny, she let out a squeal and ran over to grasp Jenny’s arms and jump up and down. “We got it! We got it!”

  Jenny knew immediately what she was talking about, but she couldn’t quite believe it. “B&B Productions? We got it?”

  “Yes!” Becca squealed, still jumping up and down. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Jenny closed her eyes as a flood of joy mingled with relief washed over her. Finally. They had finally managed to bag a contract with a powerhouse Hollywood company to do the costume design and production for a major motion picture.
/>   “Darn it, Becca! I wanted to tell her.”

  Jenny turned at the sound of Carol Hartmann’s voice. The robust, buxom blonde stepped into the room and gave Jenny a quick hug. “You did it,” Carol insisted. “Michael said B&B loved your designs. It’s written into the contract, at their insistence -- not that they had to twist my arm -- you’re lead project designer, kiddo!”

  “I can’t believe it,” Jenny sighed. “This is great!”

  “What you won’t believe is our budget, Jen. It’s to die for! We’ve never had a contract like this. We’re finally a major player!”

  Jenny frowned, the reality of the situation finally beginning to hit her. “If we manage all right. We could still screw it up.”

  Becca laughed. “No way. I know you, Jen. You won’t give any of us any peace once this project gets under way. You’ll sew every stitch yourself if you have to.” She put one arm around each of her bosses. “Everything’s going to be fine!”

  Carol smiled. “Becca’s right, Jen. I want you to use this time off to relax. I need you back here in January, fresh and focused. Carlos is coming in our first day back so you can go over the fabric orders with him, and I’m advertising for additional seamstresses to help carry the load. I’ll hold the best apps for you to look over when we get back, then we’ll set up some interviews.”

  Jenny nodded confidently, though her head was already filling with images of possible disasters. “Okay. I’ll be ready.” She grinned wryly. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to New York. If I were staying here, I’d end up worrying so much, I’d be a basketcase by the time you guys came back.”