It's All Thanks to Santa

by Kayt Miller

  “Without a doubt, this is the best date I’ve ever had, and it’s not because of the food—although, the food is amazing. It’s because of the company.” I raise my glass. “To our first date.”

  “To our first of many,” he says, clinking his glass against mine. “I feel the same about your company too, JoJo. I feel so comfortable around you. I feel like I could tell you anything, my secrets, and you’d keep them without judging me.”

  Setting my glass down, I lean over the table. “Secrets? You’ve got secrets? Do tell.”

  He chuckles. “Not right now. Nothing terrible. I’ve never been to prison or anything.”

  He sips his wine as I reply, “Too bad. I like ex-cons.”

  Billy begins to choke on his sip and has to cover his mouth with the cloth napkin.

  “Just kidding.”

  When our entrées are delivered, I’m a little sad I offered to share my steak, it’s so damn good, but I do as promised. He shares his sea bass with me. Everything is perfect. My date, this meal, the restaurant.

  “Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”

  After looking over the dessert menu, my mouth waters. I want one of everything. “Let’s do the same with dessert. Let’s share.” He agrees, so we order the cheesecake and the triple chocolate assortment. “My God,” I say, biting into a small chocolate cake. “I love this place.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He smiles at me, and I smile back at him, knowing full well I’ve got chocolate in my teeth. He’d better get used to it.

  “Well, well well….”

  Startled, we both look toward the voice. My sister’s voice. “Gisele.”

  “Aren’t you two cozy?”

  “Gisele,” Billy says warningly. “Not here.”

  “What?” She smirks. “I saw my sister was in the neighborhood.” She turns to me and rolls her eyes. I hate when she does that. “Of course you’d post food on Insta.” Then, she says something completely uncalled for only loud enough for me to hear. “Slut.”

  “Hey!” I say a little too loudly. “I’m not a slut.” Far from it.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Let’s go, Billy.” I begin to stand, but Gisele moves in closer, crowding me until I’m forced to sit back down.

  Hissing like a freaking icky snake, she says, “You need to watch your back, slut.”

  “Or what? You gonna get something sharp and cut up more of my clothes?”

  In a voice so ominous, it gave me chills, she leans in so close I can feel her breath on my face, and says, “No. Not your clothes.”

  “Psycho,” I say, pushing her away so I can stand.

  “Do Mom and Dad know you’re with him?” She nods at Billy. “Or did you lie to them like you always do?”

  “No. I didn’t lie. I don’t lie.” I didn’t tell them the entire truth, though.

  “You lied to them.” The smile that moves across her face is chilling, way too many teeth showing.

  I move closer to her so she can hear me. “Unlike you, I don’t have to lie. They know they can trust me not to get arrested.”

  And BAM, there it is.

  “Fuck you,” Gisele snarls.

  I feel her hand wrap around my wrist, and she uses those Goddamn coffin-shaped nails to press them into my flesh. It hurts. I try to pull out of her grip, but she’s strong. “No. Fuck you, psycho.”

  From my peripheral vision, I see her free hand rise up from her side, but I’m not prepared for the slap and the pain afterward. She slapped the side of my face that she scratched two days ago. I quickly turn away from her and cover my face, but I feel the wetness. At least one of the scratches is bleeding again.

  “That’s enough, Gisele,” Billy says loudly. “That’s assault. I’m calling the police.”

  I’m doing my best to put distance between me and my sister. Honestly, I’m afraid what she’ll do next. I know she’s gotten pretty chummy with knives lately. I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that.

  Our waiter steps into the mix saying, “Sir, the police have already been called.”

  “You fuckers,” grumbles Gisele. She turns, and before I can figure out what to say, she’s weaved her way through the crowd of gawking bystanders and disappears.

  “Did anyone get that on film?” asks Billy.

  Several people nod, holding up their phones. “I’m going to need those videos. Can you send them to me?”

  There are affirmative sounds around me when I feel warm hands slide up my arms to my face. “We’re going to need to head back to urgent care. She re-opened a couple of those scratches.” I hold up my wrist to see what kind of damage she did with her nails, and there are red welts but no blood. Thank goodness for small miracles.

  We have to wait though. The waiter really did call the police. We show them the video and explain the circumstances. They say they’ll track Gisele down to question her. Good luck with that. She’s probably slithered under a rock somewhere.

  “You okay?” Billy asks once we’re in the safety and warmth of his fancy car. Actually, he’s asked me that about ten times since it happened.

  Turning to face him, I give him a small smile. “I will be.”

  “We’re going to urgent care. They need to check your face. Okay?”

  I grumble but nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Do you want to know the saddest part of this whole night?” I say to Billy as he drives us home after spending two-plus hours at the clinic.

  “You had to see your sister again?”

  “Well—” I snort. “—that’s a given. No. The saddest part is that we didn’t get to finish our dessert.”

  The smile he gives me is a combination of sweet and sexy. I love that smile. I’m going to do my best to always remember it after all this is over––you know, when he’s sick of me and all of this drama.

  “I’ve got ice cream.”

  Turning my head slowly until I’m looking at him, I smile, “You do?”

  “I do. Chocolate and vanilla.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I do. When we get home, we’ll get our pj’s on, I’ll get the ice cream, and you get the quilt ready. We’ll eat dessert and watch something.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. This man. Billy Mathers just might be the most perfect boyfriend in all the world. Just maybe. Softly, I say, “I could totally fall in love with you, Billy Mathers.”

  His face is all seriousness when he replies, “And I’m already falling in love with you, JoJo Foster.”

  Now we’re staring at each other. I’m glad he’s at a stop light, or things could get a little dicey. “I’m not easy to love,” I confess.

  “You’re wrong about that. You’re so easy to love.”

  We’re silent for the rest of the ride home—I guess I should say “to Billy’s house” because things are moving so fast. Maybe too fast.

  After pulling into the spot labeled “P2,” I open my door and step out onto the concrete parking lot as Billy comes around to my side. He takes my hand in his, and we walk to the elevator. “I assume you want chocolate ice cream?”

  “Oh, you should never assume.” I smirk. “I’d like two thirds chocolate, one third vanilla.”

  “Wow, you have it all figured out, huh?”

  “Ice cream. I’ve got ice cream figured out. The rest of it, not so much.”

  Outside of his door, he lets me unlock the door with the fingerprint scanner. When the lock clicks, I reach for the door, but it doesn’t open.

  “That’s strange,” he says absently. Using his finger, we hear the locks click again. This time, the door opens. “Hm, weird.”

  Inside, he says the thing to make the lights turn on. The living room lights up, along with the rest of the large open space. I step across the threshold and begin to make my way toward the hallway that leads to our bedrooms, saying, “I’m going to get my pj—” I’m stopped in midsentence. I’m staring at his sectional sofa and feel my breath lea
ve me. All of it. It’s gone. “Billy?” I squeak.

  “What the fuck?” he shouts so loudly it echoes throughout the entire place.

  I’m crying—no, crying isn’t enough. I’m sobbing. I don’t know when it started, and it may never end because someone—oh, I know who did it—my sister has destroyed my quilt. It’s literally shredded to the point it’s just a pile of scraps. She took her time.

  “Did you have her fingerprint programmed too?” I say through sloppy, wet tears.

  “I….” Billy looks back at me, then at my most prized possession. His eyes meet mine. He looks devastated. “Yes.”

  I can’t stand here and look at it anymore. Maybe if I don’t look at it, it means it didn’t happen. Turning toward the hallway, I run as fast as I can in heels to my bedroom.

  “JoJo?” Billy yells.

  But I ignore him. I need to be alone. I need time to process this. I have to figure some things out. Like where do I go now? I can’t stay here. I can’t go home. I’ll tell my parents what happened, but they won’t care. They won’t understand. “They’ll always side with Gisele.” At my door, I push it open, step through, then quickly shut it and lock it. Throwing myself on my bed, I grab a pillow and cry into the cool softness.

  “JoJo?” Billy’s tapping on my door. “Let me in.”

  “No. I need to be alone for a while.” I’d like to tell him I’ll be okay, but that’s not true. I won’t be okay. While I know it’s just a quilt, I can’t tell you how many times it’s made me feel better. I associate that quilt with good times and bad times, but no matter which, it’s always been a comfort to me. And that fucking bitch destroyed it.

  “JoJo, come on. Let me in.”

  I don’t want him to think I’m mad at him. “I just need some time alone.”

  I hear him sigh outside my door. “Fine. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  Okay. I don’t say it, I just think it. Instead, I spend the rest of the night crying into my pillow.

  I’m awoken by the warmth of his body. “JoJo?” he whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry.”

  Rolling over to face him, I touch his cheek. “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. It’s all on her. It’s just…” I feel my nose and eyes burn. “That quilt… it was my favorite thing in the entire world.” I sniffle. “And she knew it. I bet she was after that at my parents’ house. When it wasn’t there, she went ahead and cut up my other things.”

  “Maybe we can fix it?”

  I laugh between more tears. “Did you see it? It was just shredded fabric.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Billy, my grandma sewed tiny messages to me all over that thing, and there’s no way it can b-be fixed now. All of that special, personal stuff is gone.”

  Kissing my good cheek, Billy says,, “God, I’m so sorry, beautiful JoJo.” He sounds heartbroken.

  “I know, Billy.” I roll closer to him and kiss his lips. “I know.”

  We take turns kissing one another, each kiss growing more and more passionate. After several, I can’t help but reach for his shirt. Pulling it out of his belted dress pants, I run my hands up until I feel his bare skin. “I want you, Billy.”

  “I want you too.”

  I reach down and undo the tie of my dress and pull it open so he can see my black bra and matching panties. This is exactly what I need right now, something to take my mind off of what happened earlier.

  “You’re so fucking sexy, JoJo.”

  “So are you. Get naked.”

  In less than a minute, he has jumped up and stripped. He’s completely naked and standing next to the bed, fully erect. Meanwhile, I’m still in my black undies and bra. “Your body is crazy beautiful,” I say without feeling one bit awkward. Why should I feel that way? His body is beautiful. He’s even got the “V.” And real abs. Six of them. His entire body looks like a sculpture in an art history book.

  When he slides back onto the bed, I open my legs so we can get as close as possible. Kissing me slowly and deeply, he pulls back, staring down into my eyes. “I’m going to make love to you first. Nice and slow, my sweet baby.”

  Oh, I love that. My sweet baby. “At first? What are you going to do the second time?”

  “Fuck you hard and fast, my dirty girl.”

  My dirty girl? I love that one too. I can definitely be both of those people—at least I can for Billy. Almost shyly, I respond with, “Okay.”

  Billy slowly removes my bra while kissing my lips, then moves down to my breasts. Using his tongue, he licks, suckles, and nibbles on each one. Both girls get equal attention. He’s got me writhing from that alone. When his mouth begins to move down over my soft stomach, his hands move up to continue playing with my chest. Then, I feel it. His tongue has found the motherland. “Spread those legs for me, baby.” He asked so nicely, so of course I do it. Sadly, his hands move down there too, but that’s okay. He uses his fingers to open me further. While one of his fingers enters me, he uses his tongue to bring me to the brink. One of my boyfriends used to go down on me now and then, but I know from only a few minutes of Billy that the old boyfriend knew nothing about a woman’s clit. Billy knows. His tongue swirls around it. When he sucks on it, I launch off the bed. “Oh my God, Billy.”

  He doesn’t stop his work, merely mumbling down there. It’s a good feeling too. His fingers are working inside of me, in and out, and in no time, he’s got a rhythm that is driving me insane. My hips are moving right along with him. I’m so close. I clamp down on his fingers, chasing the orgasm. Chasing is a good word for it. “Almost there. Don’t stop.” I nod frantically, hoping he’s listening to me. He is because he begins to pump those fingers faster and harder while his tongue and mouth deserve Academy Awards. “Oh, hell yes!” I shout as the wave hits me. I’m pulsing and vibrating around him as he slows his fingers. “Yes,” I say tiredly. “Billy.”

  When I look up, Billy is staring down at me. “Did that feel good?”

  I snort and slap his upper arm. “You know it did.”

  He groans, “I do,” as he slides into me. “So good.” He mutters, pulling out then back inside of me. I open my legs further so he can get as close to me as possible. I like the feel of his weight on me. I like the touch of his lips on mine, even though I can taste myself. Whispering in my ear just before he bites my lobe, he says, “You feel so good, JoJo.”

  “You do too.”

  He’s pumping in and out slowly. I feel a little antsy. I need…. “Billy?”

  “What do you need, honey?”

  “Faster?”

  “Like this?” He begins to thrust faster and a little harder.

  “Yeah, like that.” It’s working He’s deeper, and I can feel him everywhere. My body is covered in goose bumps. “Like that,” I repeat. “Billy,” I whimper. “I’m close again.”

  He begins to move faster, a pace that doesn’t seem possible. The man is a machine. A sex machine. The thought makes me giggle.

  “You think this is funny?” He thrusts harder.

  “No. It’s serious. So. Damn. Serious.”

  “Fuck yes, it is.” Billy stops moving, and I whine. But he’s only pausing to place my ankles on his broad shoulders. When he pushes back inside, I want to scream because he’s so deep. Keeping up the pace from before, my body begins to tighten until I let go and come hard, it makes me dizzy. With my legs limp, he holds on tight, entering me several more times. His moan, when he comes, is sexy and deep. “Shit, JoJo.”

  “I know.” I’m literally gelatinous.

  When he pulls out, I feel wetness and know we didn’t use a condom.

  Sliding out of bed, he walks into my bathroom. When he steps back out, he’s got a washcloth in his hand.

  “Uh, Billy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We, uh, didn’t use a condom.”

  He looks down at the bed then at me. “Is that okay? I promise you, I’m clean. I’ve got my recent medical results in my office.” He nods toward the door, indicating the
office by the washer and dryer. “I’ll go get them.”

  “No. Well, yes, later. It’s just….” How do you tell a guy you just met that you’re not on birth control? That I have an allergy to the pill and can’t afford any of it anyway? But here’s a better question: how do I feel about him not using a condom? He says he’s clean, which is great, but am I ready to be a mother? Hell no. I don’t even have a damn job, and I’d need one, because once he finds out I’m not on birth control, he’s going to kick my sorry ass out even though, technically, it’s his fault he didn’t wrap it up. The asshole.

  “JoJo?”

  I’m pulled from my thoughts and give him a rather dirty look. “What?”

  “It’s just what? What were you going to say before you spaced off?”

  “I didn’t space off.” The jerk. “I was just trying to figure out how’d I raise a child on my own.”

  “A child? On your own? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not on birth control. I—”

  “You’re not?”

  “I’m allergic to the pill, and since I don’t have insurance….”

  “Ah,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. I’ve noticed he does that when he’s stressed out.

  “It’s okay.” I slide toward the edge of the bed so I can get up. “I’ll just pack up my stuff.”

  “What?” he says, reaching for me. The action pulls us both back down onto the bed. He rolls over me so he’s right back where he started. “No. I’m sorry. I assumed you’d be on birth control, but there’s no way I’m letting you run out of here. If we’re pregnant, we’ll deal with it. I happen to think I’d be an amazing father.”

  “You would be. I think.” I laugh even though I’m not in the mood to laugh. “From the few days we’ve known each other, you seem like you’d be a good dad. It’s me. I’d be a terrible mother.”

  “No way.” He kisses my nose. “You’d be perfect. I hope our daughter gets your hair.”

  “Whoa, Billy.” I try to pull away. “At this point, I think we need to hope and pray I’m not pregnant. I don’t even have a job.”