Read Online Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) by Julie Farrell - Free Book Online Page B

kissed him sleepily.
    “Let me return the favour,” she said. “I can’t have all the pleasure around here.”
    “You know I don’t mind.”
    “Well, I do. “
    He brushed his fingers through her soft hair, which was now falling around her shoulders. “How’s about I go make you some tea, and you can get your energy back. Then we’ll see what happens.”
    “Good idea.”
    He kissed her tenderly. “Be right back. Don’t fall asleep.”
    She rested her head on the pillow.
    “I’ll be here waiting for you,” she said. “Don’t be long.”
    “I won’t.” He turned towards the door.
    “Hey, sexy-buns,” Sam said. “Aren’t you gonna put some clothes on? It’s freezing in this house.”
    He stared at his pile of clothes on the floor. “It’s okay – I’ll be quick. I can always wrap a tea-towel around my waist if I get cold.”
    Sam wrinkled her nose. “If you do, make sure you don’t let anyone wipe the dishes with it later!”
    He laughed, then strode out to the landing, missing her already.

Chapter Seven
     
    Verlaine grinned as he padded down the stairs in his bare feet. The carpet was threadbare and worn after years of being walked on, but Verlaine felt as if he was floating on a fluffy cloud. Even the disgusting red-and-black wallpaper couldn’t stifle his glorious mood.
    She was just awesome, wasn’t she? He grinned at the thought of her perfect body and wonderful mind. How had he managed to end up with such an amazing woman? He hoped with all his heart that she’d say yes to his proposal; with Sam as his wife, he’d never have any problems again, not really.
    As he continued his journey towards the kitchen, he absent-mindedly hummed Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas . He laughed – how had that got lodged in his head? He must be giddy with love!
    The cold air gripped his naked body and he shivered, regretting not at least putting on a T-shirt. Ah well, he’d quickly make some tea then dive back under the covers with his beloved. The thought of Sam warmed him and he smiled. She filled his heart to the brim with love and happiness. She was the reason for living. Pleasing her and loving her, and creating their life together – that was all he cared about really.
    He chuckled as he thought about the gunpowder mill, pitying Rebecca for politely being dragged along. But thankfully they should all be gone for hours, so after Sam had given him some pleasure, they could snooze in each other’s arms, and then maybe wake up and make love again.
    He pushed open the creaky kitchen door and stepped lightly onto the cold flagstones. He lifted his foot to make his way over to the kettle, but a force-field of terror shoved him backwards and he stopped dead. Surprise slashed at his brain as he saw the startled face of Scott – who was sitting at the rustic kitchen table. Scott locked his eyes with Verlaine’s, then he winced and glanced downwards to check out Verlaine’s junk.
    Scott gasped, then smirked suggestively. “Hello, Verlaine.”
    Paul – whom Verlaine now realised was sitting opposite Scott – leapt up and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. “Jesus, Verlaine, what are you doing!”
    Paul covered Verlaine’s naked body with his coat and started to manhandle him out the door.
    “What am I doing?” Verlaine shouted. “What the hell are you doing!”
    As Paul continued to push Verlaine out to the hallway, he realised that Scott wasn’t alone at the table. His parents and Ellie were watching his struggles against Paul with devastated horror on their faces. Rebecca was sporting an expression of devilish amusement.
    Paul gave Verlaine one last shove backwards, then he slammed the door – shutting out the shocked stares from the kitchen.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” Verlaine asked. “What’s going on? Why are they here? I heard them leave! Oh my god, oh my god! Please don’t tell me they heard everything!”
    Paul’s tender face cringed. He lifted the