Five Golden Rings (Facets of Passion) Read Online Free
Author: Jeffe Kennedy
glittery bow scattering prism shards. There was something about a beautifully wrapped gift that added a special glow. It didn’t matter what was inside—just this much pleased her. She still had the present she’d brought for Greg buried in her suitcase. All the time she’d spent selecting it, imagining them drinking midnight champagne on the balcony of their suite, seeing in Christmas Day with a romantic exchange of gifts. She should have spent more care selecting the guy.
“This is better,” she told herself out loud. And opened the envelope.
Merry Christmas Roo ,
I have sent you a little partridge for your pear tree. You are to wear it all day. I shall visit you as I can and we’ll see if we can’t shiver your leaves.
Miguel
Okay then. She opened the box, taking all the time she liked to make sure the paper didn’t tear, savoring her one Christmas present. Maybe she’d make a little scrapbook when she got back home, of the notes and hints of what went with them. A private souvenir album.
The box itself was embossed with the logo of the hotel gift shop. Handy. The resort might be bustling, but she doubted the shops in town would be. Inside, on a bed of pale blue sat a gleaming silver bullet-shaped vibrator.
For her pear tree indeed.
She finished her coffee, reading the instructions that came with the vibrator. Not that it was all that involved—insert vaginally and off you go. The remote control that came with it was conspicuously missing. The thought of it in Miguel’s pocket, out there somewhere, sent a thrill through her. So much so that, when she went into the bathroom to insert it, she was plenty wet enough for it to slide right in.
It rested inside her, the size and weight stimulating all on their own. She smiled at herself in the mirror and tousled her brownish-blond curls. For once she looked kind of sexy and mysterious, with that pleased little smile. Fa la la la LA.
She dressed in her new one-piece bathing suit with the matching cover-up, loaded up her tote bag and headed down to the beach. As she walked, the heavy bullet rocked inside her, a gentle heat under her simmering excitement. She kept her eyes peeled for Miguel, but saw him nowhere.
A cabana boy happily set her up in a prime spot, with an unobstructed view of the ocean. She sank into the lounge chair, feeling sensual with the sun’s heat and her secret. The young man offered to bring her a drink and she decided what the hell. She might as well plan to spend the day in this chair, reading and napping.
Waiting for her new lover.
From time to time she forgot about her invisible companion, until she shifted position and sensations swamped her anew, just from the weight inside her. The mild buzz from the piña coladas and the sexy beach-read on her reader only added to her heightened state, until she started seriously contemplating returning to her room to get herself off.
Of course, she hadn’t brought any of her own vibrators, since Greg wasn’t into that, but the old-fashioned method worked fine.
She’d about decided to do that, when the cabana boy appeared with a tray. “Your lunch, Señora.”
Bemused, she cleared off the little table between the two lounge chairs and he set the tray there, whisking off the dome with a flourish.
“Poached pears?” she asked.
“Simmered in brandy sauce. Also smoked partridge, along with a variety of soft cheeses. I’m to bring you something else, if you’re not pleased.”
“No, I’m plenty pleased.”
He’d brought a bottle of oaky chardonnay with the meal, spiking the metal ice bucket container into the sand under the shade of her umbrella. She’d taken a taste of the pears when Miguel poked his head around the cabana shade.
“May I join you?”
“Of course,” she gestured at the tray, feeling both shy and excited at once.
His gaze traveled along her body, taking her in. “You look most lovely—but that suit covers up too much skin.”
“I’ve seen what some of
“This is better,” she told herself out loud. And opened the envelope.
Merry Christmas Roo ,
I have sent you a little partridge for your pear tree. You are to wear it all day. I shall visit you as I can and we’ll see if we can’t shiver your leaves.
Miguel
Okay then. She opened the box, taking all the time she liked to make sure the paper didn’t tear, savoring her one Christmas present. Maybe she’d make a little scrapbook when she got back home, of the notes and hints of what went with them. A private souvenir album.
The box itself was embossed with the logo of the hotel gift shop. Handy. The resort might be bustling, but she doubted the shops in town would be. Inside, on a bed of pale blue sat a gleaming silver bullet-shaped vibrator.
For her pear tree indeed.
She finished her coffee, reading the instructions that came with the vibrator. Not that it was all that involved—insert vaginally and off you go. The remote control that came with it was conspicuously missing. The thought of it in Miguel’s pocket, out there somewhere, sent a thrill through her. So much so that, when she went into the bathroom to insert it, she was plenty wet enough for it to slide right in.
It rested inside her, the size and weight stimulating all on their own. She smiled at herself in the mirror and tousled her brownish-blond curls. For once she looked kind of sexy and mysterious, with that pleased little smile. Fa la la la LA.
She dressed in her new one-piece bathing suit with the matching cover-up, loaded up her tote bag and headed down to the beach. As she walked, the heavy bullet rocked inside her, a gentle heat under her simmering excitement. She kept her eyes peeled for Miguel, but saw him nowhere.
A cabana boy happily set her up in a prime spot, with an unobstructed view of the ocean. She sank into the lounge chair, feeling sensual with the sun’s heat and her secret. The young man offered to bring her a drink and she decided what the hell. She might as well plan to spend the day in this chair, reading and napping.
Waiting for her new lover.
From time to time she forgot about her invisible companion, until she shifted position and sensations swamped her anew, just from the weight inside her. The mild buzz from the piña coladas and the sexy beach-read on her reader only added to her heightened state, until she started seriously contemplating returning to her room to get herself off.
Of course, she hadn’t brought any of her own vibrators, since Greg wasn’t into that, but the old-fashioned method worked fine.
She’d about decided to do that, when the cabana boy appeared with a tray. “Your lunch, Señora.”
Bemused, she cleared off the little table between the two lounge chairs and he set the tray there, whisking off the dome with a flourish.
“Poached pears?” she asked.
“Simmered in brandy sauce. Also smoked partridge, along with a variety of soft cheeses. I’m to bring you something else, if you’re not pleased.”
“No, I’m plenty pleased.”
He’d brought a bottle of oaky chardonnay with the meal, spiking the metal ice bucket container into the sand under the shade of her umbrella. She’d taken a taste of the pears when Miguel poked his head around the cabana shade.
“May I join you?”
“Of course,” she gestured at the tray, feeling both shy and excited at once.
His gaze traveled along her body, taking her in. “You look most lovely—but that suit covers up too much skin.”
“I’ve seen what some of
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