The sexiest smile slid across Lyfe’s lips a fraction before his head descended.

      The two seconds it took for their mouths to connect felt more like a lifetime, however, the reward was well worth the wait. That underlining sweetness she remembered was still there, but there was also so much more.

      More power.

      More richness.

      This was not the kiss of puppy love. This was a kiss of a confident man who knew how to do manly things.

      Weightless and suspended in what felt like an alternative time and place. In his arms, she was grace and beauty … and love. Just like that. As if there hadn’t been more than a dozen years since they’d been in each other’s arms melting from each other’s kisses. At the heart … there was still a strong foundation of love.

      There was no room for reason and reality at this moment. The past didn’t matter and tomorrow was just too far away for her to be concerned about. All that mattered was right here and right now.

      In no time at all, she was returning his kiss with the same fierce hunger that he was trying to devour her with. When she heard a deep growl rumble from his chest, a surge of power surged through Corona. Her ego couldn’t help but inflate at the realization that she still had power over him. She could do whatever she wanted with him, right here and right now.

       A Christmas Affair

       ESSENCE BESTSELLING AUTHOR

      Adrianne Byrd

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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       Chapter 1

       December 16, 1998 Dear Diary,

       Tonight I, Corona Mae Banks, became a woman.

       We did it. I can’t believe it, but we finally did it. After dating since the seventh grade, Lyfe Alton and I have finally done it. I’m no longer a girl but a woman. I wonder if everyone is going to notice a difference in me tomorrow. You know that they say that women walk differently after they … well, you know. (LOL) Anyway, I know that you want all the details—and it’s not like I’d ever hide anything from you. So let me set the scene. As you know, Mom and Daddy headed out to Lagrange for Uncle Gary’s hoedown Christmas party. They’ve been planning on it for weeks. Well, that left me to babysit Tess (like always). Once I got her to stop bumping her gums, and to actually go to sleep, I called Lyfe over. Let me tell you, he must have been circling the place because he was here in like three minutes flat.

       It was still enough time for me to get a fire going in the fireplace, put the radio on the Quiet Storm—that’s the program where they play nothing but slow jams—and sneak out one of Daddy’s beers for him and one of Momma’s wine coolers for me. When Lyfe tapped on the back sliding-glass door, I almost didn’t hear him. But when I turned to see his tall frame (he’s now six-four, can you believe it?) standing back there with snow flurries in his head, my heart melted. His shoulders looked like they were expanding a half an inch every day and there’s just something about his milk-chocolate skin that makes me want to lick him every time I see him.

       He’s soooo fine—I swear that he could be a model or actor instead of a farmer. Heck. He could even be an architect. I’ve seen a lot of his drawings. He’s really talented. He could really get out and see the world. I know that’s what I want to do.

       But a farmer? I still can’t believe that’s what he wants, but it’s what his father does and he loves and admires his father. That breaks my heart just a little bit because that means he’ll never leave Thomason, Georgia.

       What’s worse is that he’d want me to stay here with him. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lyfe—always have and always will—but I can’t wait for the day I leave this Mayberry-wannabe town. All I’d have to look forward to would be jarring peach preserves, milking cows and birthing a whole village of babies. I mean, c’mon, Lyfe is the youngest of six. SIX!

       Don’t get me wrong. I now know that making seven babies with Lyfe will be rather … wonderful. *Sigh*

       Okay. I’m getting ahead of myself. I was telling you about how our whole evening went down. First, I let my Boo into the house and then immediately took him over to the nice spot I had arranged in front of the fireplace. There, he asked a few questions about how it was putting up with my Energizer Bunny sister and when I started answering him, he started nibbling on my ear.

       “Ooh, honey. That tickles.” I giggled, but snuggled closer.

       Lyfe responded by gathering me closer. Soon after, his lips stopped tickling and started feeling more like paradise. There’s this spot just at the juncture of my neck and collarbone that is … giiiiiirrrrl. My toes are curling just thinking about it.

       Before I know it, we’re butt-naked and lying down on my father’s God-awful bearskin rug. Well, at least it was soft. I can’t say the same thing for Lyfe. (LOL)

       My Boo was hard all over. And at his height, that’s a lot of hard chocolate.

       But Diary, he is soooo beautiful. His body deserves to be sculpted in granite and shown at all the major art museums for the world to just marvel at. Meanwhile, I’m the only woman who gets to feel the real deal. And let me tell you. It’s something to behold. And he smells so damn good—and clean. He’s not loaded down with cologne or aftershave. He just smells like Ivory soap. Who knew that that could be a turn on?

       “Are you sure that you want to do this?” Lyfe asked. It was an awkward question to ask now that he had made it all the way to third base. Any other guy, particularly his older brothers, would “act” first and “talk” second—or just skip the talking all together.

       This was it.

       The big moment.

       He was naked.

       I was naked. But suddenly there was this massive lump in the center of my throat and I couldn’t get any words out. To say, “yes,” meant that I couldn’t turn back.

       At my silence, he quickly added, “I mean … I completely understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

       I heard what he was saying but his eyes and body were practically begging for me not to change my mind. I smiled up at him. “Are you nervous?”

       “What? Who? Me?” he squeaked.

       My lips stretched wider as I grew more relaxed. “Yeah—you.”

       “No. Of course not.