by Kahlen Aymes
My cock was fully engorged, but her reaction caused my pounding heart to push in more blood until I thought the skin would split. It pulsed with aching need, but my purpose was Julia, not myself. I finally let my tongue lave her, and her breath drew in on a hiss followed by a soft moan, her fingers tugging at my hair. I was hungry and I let her know it, my hands clutching at her breasts and then one sliding down her body over her hip to hold the outside of her thigh. I licked and sucked, first teasing and then increasing the pressure with the flat of my tongue before finally sucking her clit into my mouth. I knew exactly how to pulse the suction to push her over the edge.
“Oh, God,” Julia gasped. “Ryan, come inside me. I’m so close…”
I could feel the muscles in her legs begin to tighten and tremor around my head and didn’t want to stop. When her back arched in orgasm, I moved up on the bed and dove into her. She was hot, wet, and slick, both from my saliva and her arousal. I thrust into her hard and fast, my fingers curling into the hair on both sides of her head as she rode out her orgasm. I took her mouth hungrily, and she parted her lips, her tongue and mine curling around each other’s madly. Her body heaved beneath mine, her internal spasms sucking on my cock with amazing pull. She was tight, and I was so turned on that I couldn’t go slow or hold back. The frantic way Julia kissed me and tugged at my hair told me she didn’t want me to, and three forceful thrusts later, I came hard, pushing in to the hilt, pouring into her with a low groan. I turned my head to kiss the side of her face, wanting to kiss her mouth again. My body jerked and then stilled, my breath ragged and raspy and Julia’s in soft little huffs. My nose traced her face, and then I kissed her deeply, my body pushing into hers, wanting her to feel the passion and love that she alone commanded. Her hands stroked my back and the hair at the nape of my neck. I was reluctant to break the connection, but we were cockeyed on the bed, and the covers were a tangled mess.
“Hold onto me, baby,” I demanded softly, and Julia complied. My arm underneath her waist pulled her to me, as I crawled up the bed using one knee. I lowered her down, still beneath me; my eyes intent on hers. They sparkled in the darkness. It was unspoken intensity and love that poured between us, the closeness I depended on like air, once again, in place. I didn’t need to say it, but I did anyway. “I love you, so much.”
She nodded, the fingers of her right hand curled, and she ran her knuckles down my cheek, never looking away. I kissed her once more, softly; our lips and tongues gently tasting.
My heart filled as I rolled to my side, finally sliding out of her, but pulling her tight against my body, and fell into an exhausted sleep.
It was a week before Christmas, and Ryan and I hadn’t seen each other much in the past few days. He worked late, and I left early, so we didn’t have much time for conversations, and I had to be content with brief kisses and hugs when he left. He never left without kissing me goodbye, and he’d hold me close if we shared a few hours together in the middle of the night, almost always making love to me.
My body flushed as images of Ryan’s lovemaking filled my mind. He was an amazing lover and knew just how to touch or kiss me to turn me into a quivering, helpless mass. Even when I was angry with him, my emotions betrayed me and I had absolutely no choice but to give him every piece of me. Body and soul. The pleasure he gave in the bedroom was insane, but I missed just talking to him; hearing about his day or sharing mine with him. It was like he didn’t want to talk to me about the hospital and what went on there. The reason was obvious. Last weekend would have been nearly perfect if it weren’t for those damn calls. After the last one, Ryan acted so guilty, and even though we cuddled on the couch, our hands entwined or traced lightly over each other, the conversation died.
Last night, Ryan mentioned, only briefly, that he’d asked Jane to be more judicious in her calls. I didn’t question him further, instead choosing to trust that things would get better. It didn’t. I could sense Ryan’s discomfort every time his phone rang. When he did speak to her, his tone was more understanding than I would have liked. Given her persistence when he was home, I couldn’t help but wonder how much she stalked him at the hospital. He barely mentioned her when we were together, throwing me an apologetic look on the two occasions he did pick up. Apparently, she and Daniel split, and she had to find a new place to live, and Ryan, Caleb and a few of the others were going to help her move, and they were all trying to coordinate schedules.
I tried not to let it bother me, but scowled despite my efforts. No doubt she would really turn her attention to Ryan. The hag would probably accidentally dump her lingerie drawers out in front of him on purpose, I thought bitchily, then felt bad that I would even think such a thing about a woman to whom I owed Ryan’s life. It was exhausting fighting with myself all the time.
Snow was falling softly outside, and I had to admit that besides spring, winter was my favorite time in New York. I loved the lights making the snowflakes glisten as they fell and how Central Park was like a huge, sparkly white blanket in the center of the city. I gently pulled out the half-finished portrait from my portfolio, knowing that when Ryan saw it, any distance between us would melt away. I brought soft yellow matting board from work, and the new glass frame sat beside the table ready and waiting to receive its precious consignment. I brought out the portrait; ready to add just a touch of color to the soft lead pencil drawing. I wanted to use watercolors but it required taping the edges down and leaving it out to dry day after day as I slowly added subtle layers of color. That wasn’t possible if I wanted to keep it a surprise, so I resorted to soft pastels. I placed soft pinks and yellows on the flesh, blending to create the slightest peachy hue, leaving a slight rosiness to the cheeks and nose.
I was careful not to smudge the delicate lines of the baby’s face or muddy up the fine strokes of the hair as I worked to blend in the shades. I glanced down at my masterpiece; an infant version of Ryan’s eyes, more rounded and shaded with a dark blue halo around the iris that faded through jade green to a light, faint yellow center surrounding the pupil, looked back at me. It was difficult to put much of myself into the drawing because I wanted so much for the baby to look like Ryan. So besides the blended eye color, I made the shape of the face and a bit of the nose like mine, but the mouth, dimples and eyes were all him.
I wondered if any of our parents suspected that we were trying. I could hear the question in Elyse’s tone when I’d called and requested some of Ryan’s baby pictures. She seemed only moderately satisfied when I told her that I only wanted some family pictures to make an album for Christmas, her tone brightening when she said she’d send several. My parents were like teenagers again, so caught up in rekindling their romance that they hardly noticed the rest of the world. My heart warmed, and a half smile lifted my lips.
I held the colored chalk between my thumb and index finger and used my ring finger of the same hand to carefully blend, blowing the excess dust off as I went. I concentrated hard on each feature individually, but when I finally lay the colors aside, I was able to look at it as a whole. The baby was breathtakingly beautiful, and my heart literally stopped as I wiped my stained fingers on a towel.
My heart filled with overwhelming love and longing for the baby yet to be conceived; remembering Ryan’s words about his little soul waiting for us in heaven. Wow. I prayed I could give him a baby as beautiful as the one I’d created on paper. Excitement raced through me in anticipation of Ryan’s reaction when he opened it. I imagined a Christmas as magical as the first one we spent in Estes Park when he’d given me the ‘I Love You Because…’ poem. My intent was to hang it, right beside this portrait in the nursery. It seemed fitting, and I was certain Ryan would agree.
By the time I was ready for bed, the picture was framed and matted. Since I only had two gifts for him this year, I made sure this one was beautifully wrapped with gold foil paper and red gossamer ribbons.
Turning a small circle in the middle of the apartment, I looked for a place to hide it so Ryan wouldn’t
find it. Under the tree were the gifts the families had sent, along with the pair of shoes I bought Ryan, but this package would be recognizable as a framed picture, so it wanted to keep it out of site until the very last minute. A big smile slid across my mouth. I couldn’t wait to give this to him.
Ryan would like the shoes, and he’d be disappointed at the impersonal nature of the gift. He’d conceal it well enough; but I knew him through and through. His eyes would flood with tears when he looked at the image of our future baby, not only because of the subject matter or that I’d drawn it, but because it would prove that I was ready and wanted a baby as much as he did. My throat tightened, and the back of my eyes burned at the thought. I didn’t know how I could ever love him more, but every day that passed, I did.
Suddenly, it dawned on me where to hide the package.
~9~
After my conversation with Jane, I felt better, confident there weren’t any misunderstandings. Jane reinforced that belief five days later when she walked into the ER with a Macy’s bag with Julia’s perfume already wrapped inside. I was grateful for the help, and it was easy to slip the gift underneath the tree later that evening when Julia was working late.
I couldn’t help digging around underneath and found a rectangular package with my name on it. It made a loud but dull thump when I shook it. After placing it back under the tree in exactly the place I found it, I brought out the padded envelope that Jenna had shipped by FedEx to the hospital. I opened it with rapt anticipation.
I let out my breath when I held it in my hands. Jenna had the framer shadow my writing with crimson so it looked like the red letters floated and my original writing was their shadow. The frame was muted gold, and the document was double-matted in the same shade of gold but with the crimson showing from the edge of the oval opening around the words. It turned out much better than I’d expected, and I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear as I looked at it. Julia would probably bawl her eyes out, I thought happily with a low laugh. She’d love the shit out of it.
When Christmas Eve rolled around, I was jumping out of my skin to get home to her. She wasn’t expecting me, so I’d screwed myself out of whatever meal she would have made if she’d known I was coming, but I didn’t care. She worked hard and deserved to relax as much as I did.
The subway was crowded with people jostling packages as they made their way through the turnstiles and onto the trains. It was interesting to watch them and listen to the conversations of those near me, the expressions ranging from contented joy to weary skepticism. The movement of the train on the tracks and the many conversations was loud. A black woman was sitting across from me, her arm wrapped around a little boy about five or six. He was noticing my scrub pants beneath my parka, and when his eyes met mine, he shyly hid his face in his mother’s side.
I smiled at the woman and she nodded in the boy’s direction with a chuckle. “He’s shy now, but when we get home, whoo-eee! Beneath that sweet face? He’s a terror to behold.”
My lips quirked. “But not tonight, though, right?” I directed my comment to the boy. He peeked out from his mother’s side with one eye. “Santa Claus is coming.”
He nodded and regarded me more openly. “You a doctor?” he asked bravely.
“I am. My name’s Ryan. What’s yours?” I held out my hand to shake his.
“Christopher.” His dark eyes darted to his mother, and when she nodded her approval, he placed his little hand in mine.
“Nice to meet you, Christopher.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan.” He shook my hand hard, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his serious expression, like he was trying to be so grown up. “Do you have kids?”
“Not yet, but I’d like to.”
After that, he lost his shyness and spent the remainder of the trip next to me telling me about what he wanted from Santa and firing a hundred questions about the hospital and my job. His eyes lit up with exuberance up when he described a remote-control helicopter that he wanted. I glanced at his mom, and she nodded imperceptibly to the affirmative. Santa was going to deliver as hoped. The trip flew by and I found myself hoping I’d encounter them again. When I was about to leave, I shook his hand again.
“If I get sick, can you fix me?” Christopher asked.
“It would be my honor, Christopher.” I patted the side of his cheek and told his mother the name of the hospital seconds before the train was pulling to a stop at my station. “Merry Christmas!”
Minutes later, I was rushing the last few blocks to our apartment building. It was snowing lightly. I felt great; excited to surprise Julia and anxious to give her the gifts. It didn’t matter that we weren’t having a huge Christmas, I was happy as hell. The only thing that could have made it better was seeing some of my family, but on the other hand, it was nice having this first Christmas as a married couple alone.
I didn’t bother sneaking in, and burst loudly through the door, startling Julia in the kitchen. The apartment smelled wonderful, all ginger and some sort of roasting meat. The clatter of something dropping in the stainless steel sink interrupted White Christmas playing on the stereo.
“Ryan! You scared the crap out of me!”
I shrugged out of my coat and rushed to her, gathering her close. She had some sort of light green glop splattered on her face and in her hair. Her eyes were wide as I licked at a spot of the stuff on her cheek. It was sweet and hinted slightly of almonds.
“Yum,” I said devilishly before my head swooped and I took her mouth in a deep kiss. She was still and slightly stiff in my arms, frozen by the shock of seeing me, holding tight to a wooden spoon filled with more green stuff. She relaxed instantly, her lips parting and coming alive with mine. I alternated between hard kisses and light teasing ones, enjoying the luxury of taking my time.
“As much as I want to,” she said between kisses. “I can’t stand here and make out. I’m in the middle of something,” she protested, less than convincingly. A bright smile split her face. “What are you doing home?”
I held her in the circle of my arms, unwilling to let her go. Her green eyes sparkled up at me and her cheeks were flushed nicely. “I begged to have part of the evening off to surprise you. You look beautiful.” My eyes roamed over her face and landed on another big glop of the frosting in her hair. I smiled down at her and squeezed her ass playfully. “Merry Christmas.”
Julia giggled and hugged me back. I glanced over my shoulder, looking for the spoon and wondering if she was going to do something mean with it. “Don’t even think about it,” I snorted.
She moved out of my arms reluctantly. “Come sit in here with me while I finish. Unless you’d like to take a shower?”
I went behind her, sliding an arm under hers so I could stick my finger in the bowl and get more of the sweet stuff. “I’ll shower later,” I mumbled, putting my laden finger in my mouth. “It tastes like almonds, so why is it green?”
“Duh! It’s Christmas, right?” she scoffed, glancing up with a smile. “I wanted to try something different. The frosting has almond paste and I used a little Amaretto in the simple syrup. I’m doing a slight variation on Red Velvet. Too bad my dad’s not here,” she said with a sigh. “He’d love this.”
I sat down on the stool nearest her and watched her deftly slice the two deep red cake layers into four and pile the frosting between them. “Yeah. Have you talked to your parents tonight?” I watched her work to finish the cake, my hand reached out to rub up and down her back.
Julia shook her head, and a lock of hair fell forward from behind here ear. “Not yet. It’s early there. I have plenty of time to call, and I wanted to wait for you. Mom, especially, will want to talk to her son.”
I huffed softly, a half-smile lifting my lips slightly. “It’s really great that they’re back together. You could have gone home, you know. Just because my schedule is merciless, it’s no reason for you to miss your family.”
She frowned and shook her head, not bothering to look up f
rom finishing the cake.
“You know I’d never leave on our first Christmas.” Julia’s expression was wistful as she set the finished cake aside.
“But… it’s not our first Christmas,” I voiced her thoughts aloud.
Julia turned toward me and laced her arms around my neck. I pulled her closer between my knees and pushed the hair back from her face, my fingers lingering in the soft strands.
“Right, it isn’t, but we’re married, and I wouldn’t think of leaving you on any Christmas.” Her eyes were soft and full of love. “Got it?”
I nodded and kissed her temple. Her skin was warm, the scent of her shampoo and her skin filled my nostrils. “Yes, ma’am.” Her arms tightened and I allowed myself to just enjoy holding her. “I’m sorry for all the shit with Jane.” I felt it needed to be said but wondered if this was the right time.
Julia’s arms tightened and her lips found the pulse at the base of my neck. I kissed the side of her face and then the top of her head. No other words about the subject were necessary. “When do I get my present?”
Instantly, she pulled back, her face full of amused skepticism, her eyebrow shooting up. “Have you been snooping under the tree, Matthews?”
I shook my head, my lips flattening together. “Who… What? Me?” I grinned, and she shoved my shoulder with her hand and moved away from me to open the oven. My stomach grumbled.
“Yes, you. You’re worse than a kid.”
I moved up behind her to look into the pan. It was a perfectly roasted beef tenderloin covered with some sort of herby crust and sitting in about an inch of dark au jus. “That looks amazing. I thought I’d show up unannounced and be faced with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
She lifted the beautiful roast onto a wooden cutting board, leaving it to rest. I started to pick at it, but she tapped the top of my knuckles with the metal tongs in her right hand.