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    A Carnal Christmas
    A Carnal Christmas
    A Carnal Christmas
    Ebook116 pages1 hour

    A Carnal Christmas

    By Robin L. Rotham

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    About this ebook

    Custom farmer Joe Remke once thought he would never be happy again. Fortunately, Ariel Jane Pender and Brent Andersen had other ideas, and now the three of them are building a farmhouse—and a future—together. Toss in the occasional orgy with Hake and Mandy Stivers, and life just doesn’t get any better.

    Or so Joe tells himself when his darkest fears whisper to him at night, urging him to leave while he can still survive on his own.

    But it may already be too late—Mandy and Hake are coming for the holidays, and they’ve got a lot more than visions of sugar plums and noncon role-play dancing in their heads. The gift they’re about to offer AJ could put an end to Joe...

    Or give him the faith he needs to stay forever.

    Reader Advisory:

    This book contains boys on boys, girls on girls, ménage, noncon-roleplaying, D/s and most everything you love about Robin L. Rotham books.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobin L. Rotham
    Release dateDec 20, 2014
    ISBN9781310398605
    A Carnal Christmas
    Author

    Robin L. Rotham

    When I complained of being bored the summer before 7th grade, my mother (who worked at a boookstore at the time) handed me a stripped copy of Victoria Holt's The Shivering Sands--and I was hooked. I became a voracious reader and an aspiring author, bringing home stacks of books from the library every single week. The next year, I did a school report on Ms. Holt and wrote to her asking for information. In reply, she sent me an autographed photo and a lovely two-page hand-written letter in which she encouraged me to follow my writing dreams. Sadly, both the photo and the letter were lost over many moves, but my writing dreams remained. At 14, I tried to write my first two romances. The first was about a federal agent masquerading as a bank robber, and a smart-mouthed customer who drove a custom baby blue Trans Am named Shark. The "robber" stole Shark as his getaway vehicle and the heroine, Nicki, dove in beside him. That was as far as I got--I could never see beyond their flying down the highway bickering as they were chased by bad guys. The second was a hot mess of an erotic Gothic paranormal involving an eighteen-year-old governess and the sixteen-year-old eldest son of the house, who made quite inappropriate advances toward her via astral projection while she slept. I wrote 100 pages front and back--IN PENCIL--before I hit that I HATE point in the story and shoved it under my bed. When I retrieved it two years later, the lead was so smeared I couldn't read it. The End. After that, I set my dream aside to address the more practical matters in life--matters like eating and putting a roof over my head. It took finding my own hero to reignite my passion for romance writing. More than 25 years after my last attempt, I bought a used laptop on eBay and wrote my first erotic romance. Mr Robin and I have been married for twenty-plus years; we live on a farm and have three wonderful offspring. I love to hear from readers, so don't be timid about dropping by my website or blog to say hi!

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      Book preview

      A Carnal Christmas - Robin L. Rotham

      A Carnal Christmas

      Robin L. Rotham

      A Carnal Christmas

      Copyright 2014 Robin L. Rotham

      Cover art by Robin L. Rotham

      Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

      Smashwords Edition

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the publisher and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

      Dedication

      This one's for Rachel, who did EVERYTHING to help me get this book out. I love you, boo!

      Table of Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      A Carnal Prelude-Free Read!

      Not So Over Eli

      About Robin L. Rotham

      Chapter One

      December 23

      An orgy might make for the perfect holiday weekend, but the prep work sucked ass.

      Are we done yet? Joe pushed the can of furniture polish and soiled rags into AJ’s hands with a long-suffering sigh. When she’d handed them to him earlier in the afternoon—right after he vacuumed at least an acre of carpet—he’d protested that it was a brand-new house and they’d been in it for less than a week. How much dust could have accumulated?

      One swipe of the rag had shown him. Jesus, no wonder women bitched about housework. All that dust was enough to make him question their decision to build on Brent’s acreage instead of in Goodland.

      Sorry, old man. AJ grinned as she turned toward the broom closet. Am I working you too hard? Do you need to take a nap before Mandy and Hake get here?

      He swatted her ass, making her yelp and dart out of the way in case another was coming. Watch it, little girl, or you won’t get what’s coming to you this weekend.

      You say that like it would be a bad thing, she told him, rubbing the seat of her faded jeans.

      It would be for you. Unless you’re in the mood to experience prolonged orgasm denial? He raised his brows. I’m sure Hake would be happy to help with that.

      Maybe next year. Or not written all over her face, she shoved the dusting supplies into the closet and shut the door, turning around just in time to catch him decapitating a gingerbread man with his teeth. Joe!

      What? It’s Christmas, he said around a wonderfully spicy mouthful, and gingerbread is my favorite.

      She scooted between him and the kitchen island, where two dozen and eleven of the cookie’s delicious little brothers lay cooling on wire racks, and leaned back over them protectively. They’re not iced yet!

      So I saved you some time.

      I’d rather save the gingerbread for after dinner, she informed him sternly.

      Still chewing the last of the gingerbread man, Joe leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. "Orgasm. Denial. Remember those words, doll face."

      She bit her lip and then said, I just want you to be healthy.

      He sighed. Not this again. AJ, I’m fine.

      But your blood pressure—

      Isn’t even high enough to require medication.

      Only if you watch your diet and ex—

      AJ, you’re not my mother, he snapped, and I’m not your doddering old father. I don’t need you to take care of me.

      He wanted to kick his own ass the instant the words left his mouth. Jesus, he couldn’t have said anything more hurtful if he’d tried, and the pain that flashed over her face before she hid it made his gut twist with regret.

      You’re right, she said softly, turning around to scoot the cookies onto plates.

      Fuck. Joe shoved his hands through his hair. AJ, look, I’m just—

      No, it’s okay. You’re right. I have no business mothering anybody.

      "That’s not what I meant, Ariel Jane," he said in a louder tone than he’d intended, anxiety and guilt tightening his every muscle.

      She glanced up at him and he could see in her eyes just how badly he’d fucked up. No, really—I mean it. You’re a grown man and you can take care of yourself. I’m sorry I overstepped.

      God dammit! Come on, Ariel, you know I—

      Can we just drop it, please? she said, taking the racks to the sink and turning on the water. I still have a lot to do.

      The stiffness of her back told him saying any more right now would be worse than useless. And what was he going to say anyway? He had no idea how to talk to a woman and never had, at least beyond talking her into bed. Which was just one of the many reasons his wife had left him. And why he left most of the couples communication to Brent.

      He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Got anything else for me to do?

      She shook her head. I think I can get the rest.

      I really don’t mind helping, y’know.

      Finally she gave him a little smile over her shoulder, and it felt like the sun peeking out in the middle of a storm. I know. Thank you, Joe, but the rest is stuff I need to take care of.

      He sighed. Guess I’ll take a walk, then, see what’s going on outside.

      He’d just about made it to the garage door when she said softly, Don’t forget your coat. The wind’s changed.

      Though he’d heard the north wind come up when he was dusting a half-hour earlier, he just said Thanks as he grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door on his way out.

      He walked through the two-car garage and out the open overhead door on Brent’s side. Brent’s pickup was still gone, of course—when the time came to help AJ clean, he’d suddenly, and very conveniently, had an appointment with the accountant that couldn’t be delayed.

      I might need to spend some money, he’d said with a grin that wasn’t the least bit apologetic. And the hell of it was, between his custom farming income, the equipment sales and the profit on his own crops this year, he probably did need to buy some inputs for next year to keep his income tax bill manageable, but that was no consolation when Joe needed him here.

      Why the hell hadn’t he just let AJ’s gentle nagging flow over him like so much water off a duck’s back? It wasn’t like she was being genuinely obnoxious or controlling, and she really was worried. Dammit, he should never have let her drag him to the doctor last spring when he had the flu. She’d heard the words high blood pressure and been prodding him about it ever since.

      So his blood pressure was a little high—big deal. Some things in life were just inevitable, like wrinkles and gray hair. Reading glasses and hearing aids. Hip replacements and ear hair. And eventually a dirt nap. As far as he could see, there was no rhyme or reason to who died when, or why—life was just a crapshoot, and it seemed like the harder you fought to keep some affliction at bay, the more insistently it came after you.

      But try making

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