A Fashionably Dead Christmas: Hot Damned Series, Book 5 (2 page)

Actually, it made bizarre sense…

“They live in Purgatory?” I asked confused. No one lived in Purgatory. The elevator music was enough to make even the most pious choose Hell.

“Rumor has it Ronnie might have gotten a little too close to Heaven’s astrologer. Nancy got pissed and… well let’s leave it at that,” Martha explained with a shudder.

“Yessiree,” Jane added. “Heads rolled. Literally.”

“Wait.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to block out the image of the very proper Vampyre Nancy Regan removing a head. “Ronald and Nancy Regan won all of your considerable fortune off of you?”

“Hell no! They suck at poker. We just invited them to be eye candy. It was a friendly little evening until that fucker, Mister Rogers, showed up,” Jane growled.

“Yep,” Martha added with a disgusted snort. “He waltzed in wearing that fugly-ass sweater and then the bastard held up the game for twenty goddamned minutes while he changed his tennis shoes.”

“So Mister Rogers won all of your money?” I asked, curious to hear if anyone else had shown up. The dumbasses stared at the ground in shame. Holy Cousin Jesus, they were stupid. Everyone knew that Fred Rogers was a freakin’ card shark.

“Yes,” they mumbled sadly.

“So then, being broke, you freaks of nature decided you would steal an arsenal to give to my baby for Christmas?”

“Sounds about right,” Martha said.

“Clearly, and thankfully, you two assbags never had children. You do not give babies weapons. Ever.”

“See? I told you that,” Jane groused at Martha. “We should have stuck with my plan to get him a hooker.”

“Sweet baby Satan in a thong,” I shouted. “You two imbeciles will go the art room and
make
Samuel a present in less than twenty-four hours, since Christmas is tomorrow. You will craft something from soft materials and glue. You are
forbidden
to use staples or anything sharp in the making of said gift. There will be no more stealing or I will remove your hands and they would take at least six weeks to grow back. Are we clear?”

“Can we make a hooker for him?” Jane suggested.

“Can I pierce your heart with a silver fucking stake?” I shot back.

“Um… no?” Jane replied.

“There’s your answer,” I stated as I clasped my hands tightly together to keep from zapping them completely bald. “I’d also recommend neither of you say another word as my fingers are itching to blast your asses into tomorrow.”

Martha raised her hand and looked at me expectantly.

“Yes, Martha?”

“What about the receipt-less gifts we procured?”

I stared at the deadly pile and grinned. “No worries. I’ll give them to Uncle Satan. He’ll love them—especially the fact that they were
stolen
.”

Martha and Jane paled, and then gulped loudly as they slunk out of the room. It was never a good idea to let my Uncle know your list of bad deeds. He had a memory like a steel trap. The mere thought of Martha and Jane eventually ending up in Hell made me laugh though. Even Satan wouldn’t be able to handle them.

I would just add the weapons to the Journey concert tickets I’d bought the King of the Underworld. He’d be on Cloud Nine—well not really, that was more his brother God’s territory.

Chapter 2

The Great Room in the Cressida House was ginormous. Occasionally I missed my quaint, cozy, little house from when I was human, but this was my new home. The most important men in my life lived in it—Ethan, my mate, and Samuel, my son.

Hell, I’d live in a cave and give up Prada to be with my boys.

Glancing around the vast room, I giggled. Christmas decorations covered every conceivable nook and cranny. It had taken Gemma, Venus, Pam, Paris Hilton, and me four days of solid work to accomplish the feat and the results were garishly wonderful. Pam, my guardian angel and stepmother to my mate, created new and profane lyrics to
The Twelve Days of Christmas
. The atrocity would definitely go down in history. Unfortunately, Samuel had been present and I’d been hearing about turtle doves fornicating and pipers whacking off nonstop since.

The twelve-foot tree in the corner was the crowning jewel. It was lit with brightly colored chaser lights and had so many ornaments on it the needles of the tree were barely visible. Samuel had screamed with delight when he saw it and changed his skin color for two hours straight to match the light show. My baby’s talents were many. The ability to adjust his skin color to his surroundings or to his liking was only the tip of the iceberg.

He’d sported red and green skin for the last week in preparation for the holiday. Slightly alarming behavior—but tolerable. I picked my battles with my child carefully. Skin was skin. It was the conjuring up Trolls I took issue with…

As stunning as the tree was, there was nothing more beautiful than the large, sexier-than-Hell Vampyre sitting on the floor next to it. Dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt with his blond hair all sexy-messy, he looked like he was posing for an ad in a glossy magazine.

My body tingled with desire looking at him and I considered a quickie under the tree, but there was entirely too much to do. Ethan looked adorably confused as he attempted to wrap our son’s presents. Wrapping paper covered in snowmen was wadded into crinkled balls and several tape dispensers had come apart under my mate’s wrath.

He glanced up, gave me a sexy, lopsided grin and put his hands up in surrender. “So Astrid, my love, the question of the hour… why do we put paper and tape on something that’s going to be torn off and thrown away? This is ridiculous, not to mention a poor use of our trees.”

Ethan was a crafting disaster. My sexy man could take down an army of Demons, but apparently he couldn’t wrap a gift.

“It’s part of the fun,” I insisted as I sat down on the floor next to him.

I didn’t lift a finger to help. It was far too much fun to see that he wasn’t good at everything. His grumble of displeasure made me grin.

“Do you like the decorations?” I asked as I moved behind him and massaged his broad muscular shoulders.

“They’re very… colorful,” he replied with a chuckle. His head fell back on his shoulders as he groaned with pleasure. “We’ve never had anything quite like it at the Cressida House before.”

“Then you had no clue what you were missing,” I told him as I pulled lightly on his hair.

“Do that again,” he said in a husky voice that made my girlie parts wake up.

“What's this?” I patted his back like he was a dog and scooted away with a laugh.

“Nope, this,” he said.

He moved quicker than the speed of light and pinned me beneath him. I gasped and giggled as the wrapping paper that wasn’t crunched up under me flew all over the room. His lips found mine and all thoughts of the massive list of Christmas duties I hadn’t finished disappeared. I was home in his arms and everything else could simply wait.

“Tell me, beautiful girl… why is all of this this so important to you?” Ethan murmured against my lips.

“Because,” I said, avoiding the question.

“Because why?” he asked as he pulled back with a curious look in his eyes.

Should I tell him? Was it silly? “Because—I don’t know,” I said as I reached for him and tried to get his mind back on some afternoon nookie.

“Astrid—tell me. I want to understand. You’ve slaved over invitations, decorations, presents, and God only knows what else. You even
forgot
about Thursday night closet sex,” he teased with arched brows and a sexy lopsided grin. “Completely unacceptable.”

“Well, I can make up for that right now,” I purred as I wiggled suggestively underneath him.

“No. We’ll get to that in a moment,” he promised as he smiled and pressed his forehead to mine. “I am a very selfish man, Astrid. I want your body, your mind, your soul, your thoughts, and your love. I need to know all your wishes and dreams—I want to make them come true.”

“That kind of sounds the opposite of selfish,” I corrected the man I would happily die for.

“Trust me, I’m selfish and possessive. However, you’re stuck with me,” he growled.

“Back at ya, sexy pants.” I giggled as I tried once again to have my pornographic way with him, but it was a no go.

“Talk to me,” he urged.

“Fine,” I huffed. Clearly I wasn’t going to get laid until I came clean.

Shitmonsters.

“It’s because most of my Christmases sucked as a child. My mother didn’t believe in trees or presents. She told me Santa was a lie when I was four. It wasn’t until my Nana was around that I even understood what the Hell that Christmas really meant.”

The sadness and concern on Ethan’s face made me uncomfortable.

“No worries. I’m over it,” I told him as I traced his lips with my finger. “Ten years of therapy fixed me up good. Now I just want all of Samuel’s memories to be beautiful—to be special. I want him to come home for the holidays after he’s grown because they were so fucking awesome when he was a child. I want him to recognize the ornaments from year to year. I want him to have lots of family around that loves him. I want him to roll his eyes at the massive collection of Baby Jesuses I have.”

“How many do you have?” Ethan asked as he gently tucked my wild dark hair behind my ear.

“Fourteen as of today,” I told him and waited for him to laugh.

He didn’t. He simply stared at me like I was a miracle.

“I think this extraordinary effort is for you too, my love.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.

“No, I’m really over all that crap from my past… ” I started.

“Shhhh… ” he hushed me with a smile. “I think it’s all good and that next year I will decorate with you. I will master this thing called wrapping presents and I will buy you hundreds of Baby Jesuses.”

“You will?” I whispered.

“Yes. I will,” he vowed.

“I’m kinda wildly in love with you at the moment,” I said with a silly grin.

“Back at ya, sexy ass.”

“You wanna know something else?” I asked.

“Do I?”

“Yep, you definitely do,” I told him.

“Then out with it.”

“I’ve never done the nasty under a Christmas tree,” I whispered as both of our gazes slowly turned from gold to green with desire.

“We could get busted,” he said as his tongue traced my collarbone and sent shivers all through me.

“We could make it a quickie. I’m not wearing panties,” I informed him.

He groaned and let his head fall back on the marble floor with a thud. “You could tempt a dead man.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

“I suppose I could make your Christmas wish come true,” he replied with mock exhaustion.

“Don’t put yourself out for me,” I said as I ground my hips into his very happy camper.

Slowly he slid my around-the-house sexy little red Prada sweater dress up over my bottom and cupped my rear end with firm and educated hands. I was the luckiest undead girl in the world.

My hand found its way into his jeans and I grasped my prize. I sank my fangs into his neck and his body tightened with need. His moan sent my lower region into overdrive.

“Should we lock the door?” Ethan asked as he made short work of his shirt.

His fangs had dropped and I quickly whipped my dress over my head. I’d learned the hard way that with a toddler you had to move fast. Maybe I should leave my dress on. It would be easier to pretend we were just wrestling if we got caught.

Nah. I was freakin’ horny and wanted the whole shebang. Pun intended.

“That door doesn’t lock… and anyway Sammy’s napping. If we… ”

“Me can put chair in front of door,” Samuel announced happily from the entryway. “Can me play too?”

“Holy shitbuckles,” I squealed as I accidentally kneed Ethan right in his man jewels.

I’d never dressed so quickly in my life. Ethan rolled away with his nuts now residing somewhere in his stomach. I hopped up so fast that I went flying into a chair.

“Shitbuckles,” my child yelled gleefully.

From my sprawled position over the chair, I closed my eyes and groaned. I was trying so fucking hard not to swear in front of him, but this situation merited a few naughty words.

“Hi, little guy,” Ethan croaked out in a tight voice.

He was still in the fetal position on the floor and I felt awful.

“It was an accident,” I whispered to him. “I love your balls. I would never harm them.”

His pained chuckle was a relief. I hoped to God I hadn’t damaged his spectacular package too much. I was going to need it as soon as we could find a room with a lock.

“Mommy thought you were napping,” I said as I righted myself and yanked my dress down over my naked ass.