Hot & Heavy Halloween (Hot Holidays Book 1) Read online

  Hot & Heavy Halloween

  ©Melanie Kinkaid

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, uploading, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used by reviewers for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  First Edition, October, 2018

  Table of Contents

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  Free Preview: Hot Holidays Book 2: Thirsty Thanksgiving

  About the Author

  Katie

  “Noah might seem like a hippy-dippy vegan, but he can really stretch a girl out,” my best friend Amber giggled as she smoothly moved into a Downward-Facing Dog Position.

  “What’s the joke?” I asked, straining to hold the pose.

  I felt dizzy, but tilted my head to Amber, envious of my lean, flexible friend, who never seemed to break a sweat, no matter what pretzel shape she twisted her body into. I was thankful we had also brought along our new co-worker Emma, who was sweet as pie, but huffed and puffed her way through class even when seated in lotus position.

  Amber laughed again, eliciting a glare from Emma, who looked as if she might topple over at any moment. “I can’t… concentrate… when you’re laughing.” Emma finally gave up and moved into Child’s Pose, but not before taking a big slug of water as if she’d been in class for two hours and not twenty minutes.

  As Amber and I slid into an upward stretch, I looked over at her, guiltily. We’d been coming to yoga class three days a week for the past two years. Amber had been a dancer when she was younger and breezed through poses like she seemed to do everything in life, but it had taken me much longer to adapt. This was only Emma’s fourth time at Saturday morning yoga, and I knew how much she was struggling.

  Though grouchy while trying to complete Noah’s sequences, Emma loved the restful vinyasa poses that closed the class, and always claimed to feel relaxed and refreshed afterwards. I suspected she was lying and wanted to keep up appearances to help foster our budding friendship, but I didn’t know her well enough to call her on it or to suggest a different activity we could do together.

  Amber didn’t seem to notice Emma’s annoyance, or if she did, she didn’t care. As soon as Noah passed us and moved to the front of the room, Amber whispered, “I don’t just mean he stretches me out in class. I’m talking about all the fun we get up to after class. He’s huge.”

  “What?” I said, a bit more loudly than I intended. I glanced over at Noah—lean, blond, bearded Noah. He always seemed so serene. I couldn’t imagine him being overcome with passion. To be honest, I didn’t think he had it in him.

  Amber grinned. “Seriously. I mean it. Remember Mark?”

  “Mark, the Stallion?” Beads of perspiration formed on my palms, and not just from Noah’s workout. I had already been dating Ben when Amber hooked up with Mark. I only met him a handful of times, which was three more times than I had met most of Amber’s conquests, but I remembered him very clearly. Muscled. Tall. Well-hung.

  This last I knew, not only from Amber’s lurid descriptions of their “dates,” but also because the first time I met Mark, he was wearing a pair of jeans so tight, I could see the entire outline of his cock. It was the biggest I’d ever seen, and I nearly salivated at the sight of it. He knew the effect he had on me and every other girl in the room. And so did Amber, who relished the envy of her friends as much as she did, hopping on Mark like a pogo stick at the end of the day.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Emma mumbled from between her arms.

  “Noah’s cock,” Amber whispered back.

  Emma sat straight up, red-faced and open mouthed. Her usually smooth black bun sat askew on the top of her head, and the effect was so comical, Amber and I could not help but burst into a fit of giggles.

  At least half the class turned around in silent admonishment, and Noah must have realized we were gossiping about him because he quickly said, “Alright, everyone, we are now going to attempt the Eka Hasta Vrksasana, otherwise known as the One-Handed Tree Pose. This is a difficult Ashtanga position, so there are many variations. For those of you who are newer, I will be coming around, giving assists.”

  “He means me,” Emma hissed, “and now, I’m going to be thinking about his… penis the whole time instead of strengthening my mind-body connection.”

  I had to hold in my laughter again. “There’s no mind-body connection to this pose,” I assured her. “I can’t even do a regular handstand yet, let alone a one-handed version. Just prop your legs against the wall and rest.”

  “That’s what Noah said last night before he stuffed me so full, I felt like a Thanksgiving turkey,” Amber quipped.

  “Eww.” Emma meant to sound disgusted, but I knew she was intrigued.

  I knew this because I was intrigued. More than intrigued, though I would never say so. My love life with Ben was lackluster at best. I contemplated our relationship as I rested my legs next to Emma’s against the wall.

  I’d been with Ben for four years. He worked in finance, and his charm and confidence (which I would sometimes call arrogance) propelled him forward in the business world. In some ways, he was a perfect partner—smart, successful, and attractive. In other ways, I was less than satisfied.

  It wasn’t that we didn’t have chemistry. He could run a finger down my arm and turn me on. But, including a ninety-minute commute to the city every day, Ben worked seventy to eighty hours a week, and on top of that, he traveled to the district office at least once a week—six hours, roundtrip. By the time he got home, he was exhausted.

  About once a month, he’d get overly-excited from all the pent-up sexual energy. Then, he’d grab me, toss me on the bed, pump into me a few times, and finish before I’d even started.

  The first time we made love this way, I didn’t mind. By the fifth time, I was tired of the once-a-month quickies. I wanted more, but I didn’t know how to tell him, and the one time I tried, his face fell, and he pouted, “I’m doing the best I can, Katie. I work hard because we need money. Don’t you want to get married and have a family?”

  And there it was. The goal. Get married. Have kids. Stay home. Never work again. Never teach again. Be with my own kids instead of someone else’s all day.

  And yet, no proposal, no ring, no end in sight. Thankfully, I liked my job… most days. There were other times when the thought of
staying home brought me to tears. Like the morning Johnny Kimball bit three girls in class, and when I tried to stop him, he bit me, too. Or the afternoon when Georgia Baker decided her finger painting was the worst in the class (even though they all basically looked the same) and cried the rest of the day.

  Whenever I tell people, “I teach kindergarten,” they get starry looks in their eyes and exclaim, “Oh my goodness, it must be so much fun to play with kids all day long!”

  I just smile and nod. I don’t get into the fact that I have to teach children, not just play with them, that they come with as many issues as teenagers sometimes, and that I have been bitten, kicked, and puked on more times than I care to count.

  So, having kids and staying home is an attractive option. I just wondered if I was making the right choices to reach that goal. Because it seemed more and more as if Ben and I were growing apart instead of coming together.

  Sometimes, I hated yoga. It was too quiet and left me alone with my thoughts. And today, those thoughts were disloyal and bordering on the unfaithful. I breathed a sigh of relief when the class finally ended.

  As we were rolling up our mats, Emma said, “Okay, ladies. I just suffered through eighty tedious minutes of hell—”

  “And ten minutes of rest,” I reminded her.

  “And ten minutes of rest,” she agreed. “I’ve paid my dues. Now you have to pay yours. Amber, are you going to come for coffee with us and spill all the juicy details? Or, do you and Noah have another rendezvous planned?”

  Emma was even more thirsty than I was, I realized. She admitted to me, though probably not Amber, that she hadn’t dated anyone since college, and even then, she’d never slept with anyone. I wasn’t shocked at the revelation that Emma was a virgin. She was shy and sweet, and she wasn’t the type to pursue a guy, no matter how much she might like him.

  Amber stretched her arms up over her head one last time and shook her blond hair out of its tightly-wound bun. She tilted her head, considering a moment. “Noah,” she decided, licking her lips.

  “Come on,” I cajoled. “Let’s go for coffee. It’s October—pumpkin spice latte time. And I know you love bragging about your conquests.”

  “I don’t brag.” Amber yawned. “I state facts. And the fact is that Noah has a seriously huge package.”

  “But does he know how to use it?” I queried, asking what I knew Emma wondered as well, though my shorter, quieter friend blushed and spluttered at our boldness.

  “Hmmm,” Amber considered. “Yes, and I’d love to fill you in, but I can’t. I have to get ready for Becca’s Halloween party.”

  “That’s not until tomorrow,” I protested.

  “But you’re going, right?” Amber asked. “Both of you? We have to all go. It’ll be no fun, otherwise.”

  I doubted this very much. Amber was a party girl, who could find fun watching paint dry (probably by banging the contractor while they waited). No doubt we would arrive at the party, and Amber would either bring Noah or find another willing victim for whatever costumed activities she could imagine.

  “I don’t know,” I hesitated. Becca was really Amber’s friend. I had only met her a handful of times before the Halloween party last year, and we’d only hung out a few times since then. Knowing this, and apparently not really caring all that much, Amber ditched me about a half-hour after we arrived for a shirtless guy dressed as a surfer and his girlfriend, who was wearing a bikini, despite the cold October air.

  “Ben’s out of town this weekend, right?” Emma asked.

  “Yes,” I admitted, slightly annoyed she’d remembered. I knew Amber would never memorize our schedules, and I planned on using him as an excuse. “Ben wants to stay in tonight” was often true and got me out of nearly every awkward social gathering I didn’t feel like attending.

  “Then there’s no excuse.” Amber flipped her blond hair again and tossed her yoga mat over her shoulder.

  “Okay,” I relented. Then, I looked over to Emma, who I knew still wanted the full scoop on Noah. “But if you won’t go for coffee, at least come with Emma and I to help us find costumes.”

  “It’s a costume party?” Emma looked worried. I figured she was probably self-conscious, even though she didn’t need to be. She was curvy, not fat, and the yoga would whip her into shape in no time. I knew it had for me, at least.

  “No costume, no entry,” Amber said. “I’ll give you an hour. Then, I have to go home. I want to look good this year. When you teach kids like we do, there are so few chances to dress up.”

  “Dress up?” Emma asked.

  “She means slut it up,” I laughed.

  “I mean that Halloween is the one night a year I can let out my inner sex goddess,” Amber snapped. “And you should, too. Both of you are repressed beyond belief. Let it out tonight. Go crazy!”

  Liam

  Her nipples looked like two, pink pencil erasers, and the way they poked out of her round, perky breasts was driving me mad. She smiled. “Eyes up here, mister.”

  “Seriously?” I tore my gaze away from her chest and stared into her sparkling green eyes.

  “No. Not seriously,” she giggled. It somehow sounded false, but I ignored this and instead concentrated on the way her bouncing breasts.

  Sometimes, Nicole could be both annoying and alluring at the same time. I could never figure out how. I moved my hand back up and down my raging hard-on. “Good,” I said. “For a moment there, I thought I was going crazy.”

  Nicole ignored my comment. “Tell me what to do.” She wasn’t moaning yet, but I could hear her desire as her voice dipped into its lowest registers. After three years together, I could read the signs. The foreplay was over. It was time to really get down and dirty.

  “Put on that wig.” I pointed to the chair behind her.

  “The blond one?” Nicole hesitated and stopped rubbing herself. “It’s for the party, later.”

  “Don’t question me. Put it on.” She loved it when I took control, and her breathing got even faster.

  Nicole reached over with one hand, the other buried deep in her mound. “Good girl,” I said. You can stop touching yourself for a second to put on your costume.”

  She pouted, but did as I asked. “Should I put the rest on, too?” she asked.

  “What’s the rest?” I stopped stroking myself. Maybe this was a bad idea. Too much stopping and starting.

  “Sexy Alice in Wonderland,” Nicole breathed.

  My dick went from a seven to a ten, and I knew she could tell, even if it was my hand at the helm. Nicole giggled, “Well, that settles it. Wait right here, and I’ll go get changed.”

  She left the room, and I closed my eyes. What was it about a sexy Alice costume that had me so hot and bothered? I couldn’t say. Then, I heard Nicole clearing her throat, “Ahem.”

  There it was. I knew exactly why the costume was sexy—beyond the fact that my hot brunette, now blond, girlfriend inside it. She was squeezed into a seemingly modest blue dress, which I would have called demure, had it not been for the short hemline, I could glimpse her tight lips underneath. Black stilettos high enough for a stripper were offset by a prim blue headband. The combination of prim and slutty would have been enough to turn me on, but Nicole had pulled down the top of the dress, exposing her perky, round tits.

  I had to take my hand off my cock, or our little game would be over in seconds. “Turn around.” My breath was ragged.

  Nicole turned, exposing the smooth curve of her ass.

  “You’re wearing that costume out?” I gulped. I loved the look, but didn’t necessarily want her on display like that.

  “No,” she turned just her head to face me. “This one’s just for you. The one for tonight is more acceptable for public appearances.”

  “Meaning?” I trailed off and realized my mouth was hanging open.

  “Meaning it’s about five inches longer and I’m going to pair it with black flats.” Nicole laughed, and I realized she was getting the upper hand again. She e
njoyed that, in some ways. She liked having power, found it more amusing than arousing.

  “Bend over.” I grasped my cock and began stroking it up and down again.

  Nicole complied, bending at the waist so I could see the curve of her ass as it disappeared into her cleft. “Give your self a little spanking,” I instructed. She slapped her ass, sharply, and shivered with delight.

  “Now, bend all the way down and grasp your ankles,” I said. I could feel my cock swelling in my hand as she obeyed my command. I could see she was getting off on this as much as I was. Maybe we needed to dress up more often.

  “Alice,” I licked my lips. “Stand up and come over here.”

  She sauntered back to her computer monitor. Damned, but I wished Nicole was with me in person. We had an unwritten rule about pretending the screens weren’t between us—one I couldn’t help breaking now. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I said.

  She pouted. “I know, baby. Tell me what to do instead.”

  I didn’t want to. I could feel the shaft in my hand becoming more sensitive, and I could feel my balls tightening. I was about to blow and wanted to hold off as long as I could. I knew Nicole was nowhere near as close as I was.

  “Put those stilettos up on the desk,” I said. She complied and dipped her hand down to rub her clit. “Did I say you could do that?” I asked.

  Nicole grinned. “Nope.”

  “Bring those hands back up. Play with your tits a minute.”

  She bit her lip as her hands teased and pinched her nipples, making them turn from pink to red.

  “You like that?” I asked. Nicole closed her eyes and nodded. This was a good sign. The hotter she got, the less she was able to talk.

  “Good,” I said. “Give them one more hard pinch, and then lower your left hand and flick that little button for me.”

  She complied, and bucked against her own hand the way she would have against mine, had I been there in person.

  “Now, take your right hand, and put your finger in your mouth. Suck on it like you’re sucking on a little cock.”

  “Like Tom?” she asked, smiling as she raised her perfectly-manicured finger to her mouth.