by Lori L. Otto
“All I really wanted was to spend Christmas with you. We’re doing that. If you want to go to my place, we can. If you want to go back to your place, we can. But I guarantee, if we’re just going to be sleeping tonight, there is no better place in Manhattan to sleep than this suite. I promise. It’s the best room in the city where you don’t even realize you’re still in the city.”
“If you’re sure.”
He turns off his hazards and checks the mirrors before pulling back out into the street. “I am sure.” He smiles, taking my hand and kissing my palm.
The manager of the hotel, a business associate of Jack’s, comes to greet us at the check-in counter and leads us up to the top floor of the hotel to our suite.
“Jack,” he says, “don’t hesitate to call the front desk if you need anything. And Emi,” he says, bowing his head to me, “it is such a pleasure to finally meet you. He’s told me so much about you,” he adds. My heart palpitates as I laugh softly, looking at Jack as he nods to his friend.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” The manager opens the door for us, gesturing for us to go in.
Bewildered, I nearly stumble into the room that’s at least twice as big as my apartment. The wall facing us is lined with windows that overlook the harbor, just as Jack had promised. A fully decorated tree is tucked in the corner with presents stacked beneath it. I hope they’re just decorations, because this room must have already cost him a fortune. The sky is rich with reds and oranges and purples as the sun is setting. It’s spectacular. A young man carries my suitcases in and sets them into the bedroom. My eyes follow him into the room, and I notice the lush king-size bed, covered with at least ten pillows, beckoning me.
“I feel so bad,” I repeat to Jack once we’re alone.
“Emi, don’t say that one more time. Please.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you,” he says, pulling me into him. “Merry Christmas, Emi. I hope this is the first of many.”
“Wow,” I say, my heart nearly full. “Me, too, Jack. Merry Christmas... and thank you for this... for everything you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans in for a kiss. “Hungry?” he asks.
“Starving,” I tell him.
“Let’s head down to the restaurant for dinner. If we want dessert, they do late-night room service here,” he suggests, “and I’ve already arranged for it.”
“Okay,” I shrug. “Lead the way.”
Our table is overlooking the harbor, too. The night is completely clear, the moon full and bright, casting a long reflection on the water below. Our vantage point also includes some downtown apartments. So many windows are decorated with colorful lights and trees. It’s simply beautiful.
A live band is tucked in the corner of the restaurant, playing holiday music. The tables are tastefully decorated in white and silver, small candles flickering in the center of each one. A fire is crackling in the fireplace nearby.
“This is perfect, Jack,” I tell him. “I can’t imagine a better place to be right now... and I can’t imagine any better company.”
“You’re sweet, Emi. It is nice, being here with you. You did tell Jen you wouldn’t be home, right?”
“I did,” I laugh.
“Okay,” he sighs. “I don’t want your family angry with me again.”
“They love you,” I tell him before taking a bite of my dinner. I nearly choke on the food, realizing I’ve just professed my family’s love for him before I’ve even admitted my own to him. I do. I don’t know why I haven’t said it yet.
“You okay?” he asks, handing me my water.
“No, I’m good,” I smile. “This place is really nice,” I tell him. “Are you sure this wasn’t too much?” I ask nervously. “I can pitch in, if you’d like.”
He looks at me, almost confused, and then laughs a little. “No, Emi, I’m sure it’s not too much. It’s part of your gift.”
“Part?” I ask. “God, no, this had better be all of it.”
“It’s not,” he answers. “The rest are upstairs.”
“The rest? I obviously didn’t get you enough.”
“That’s ridiculous, Emi. This isn’t a competition.”
“I know, but...”
“No ‘but,’ silly. Plus, you may hate what I got you.”
“Okay, this hotel makes up for any bad gifts, for the record. And I’m sure I won’t hate it. You seem to be pretty attuned to my likes and dislikes,” I add.
“I try to pay attention. But I had to get Kelly’s help on your presents. They were a little beyond my expertise.”
“I’m sure they will be great,” I assure him.
“Why don’t we go find out. Are you finished?” he asks, eyeing my nearly-empty plate.
“I’m saving room for dessert,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”
Hand-in-hand, we walk back to our penthouse suite.
“Should we get comfortable first?” he asks before settling in.
“Um... sure. Did you want to go first, or...”
“Why don’t we both go?” he smiles, my heart suddenly racing as I think about the incredible jacuzzi tub in our suite... and how much I’d like him to come with me... but no, not tonight. I was hoping he wouldn’t pressure me... he said he wouldn’t.
“I don’t think so,” I tell him, uneasy.
“Emi,” he laughs. “Did you not notice the shower and jacuzzi have their own separate rooms?”
“Oh, no,” I sigh, relieved. “I didn’t.”
“Would you like the jacuzzi?”
“Yes, please,” I grin, pleading.
“By all means. Meet you back here in a few.”
After my bath, I stall in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t exactly planned on hanging out in my nightclothes... I brought the grey and black ruffled sleep shorts and matching camisole to sleep in, so I felt a little like I was teasing him. I chose them because I wanted to have a reason to cuddle in his warm grasp tonight. I was thankful I brought my robe, although it was thin and only came down to the middle of my thighs. I look cute, though. There is no denying that. I had debated pulling my hair back, but I think that might be too much, so I let it fall naturally on my shoulders.
At the last minute, I decide to pull on some striped knee-high tube socks, just to cover up a little more of my body. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.
Jack is across the suite in the kitchen, dressed in green plaid flannel pants and a white t-shirt. I can smell the spice of chai tea lattes. So sweet. I sneak up behind him and throw my arms around his waist.
“You smell good,” I tell him, breathing in his clean scent. He tries to break free of my grasp, but I’m afraid of what he’ll think when he sees my clothes, so I hold him tightly. I so wish I had brought some yoga pants or something. I debate running back in the room and putting my jeans back on... but I guess it’s a little too late for that. I finally loosen my grasp a little, and he turns around to face me, putting his arms around me.
“So do you,” he says, kissing me as his hands explore my backside. “What are you wearing?” he mumbles without looking, a heavy sigh following.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I tell him, pulling away so he can see.
He scans my body, from the low-cut camisole peeking out from beneath the robe that’s too short to my socks. His eyes linger on my feet.
“Are the socks meant to be a distraction?” he laughs.
“Yes?” I say, unsure.
“That works,” he smiles. “You are so incredibly impractical, my sweet Emi. But so equally, incredibly, adorably sexy.” He picks me up to kiss me again, and sets me down carefully.
“Latte?” he asks, handing me a mug.
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you lead the way into the living room?” he suggests, patting me lightly on my rear as he follows me. “So cute,” he says as I glare over my shoulder. He’s moved the three packages from under the tree to the coffee table, one fairl
y large one and two increasingly smaller ones. I pull out three much smaller gifts from my bag and set them next to his.
“See? I didn’t do enough,” I murmur.
“Stop that, Emi,” he warns me. “Seriously.” He stands up to tune the radio to a station with Christmas music. “How is this?”
“Good,” I tell him, patting the seat on the couch next to me. “Open this one first,” I suggest, handing him my medium-sized gift. He shakes it ceremoniously.
“Is this the coal?”
“No that’s in the big one,” I tell him. “Lots of coal for you.”
He unwraps the gift, an iPod. “I don’t know how you don’t have one already. I took the liberty of loading up a bunch of my music on it.”
“Thank you, Em, this is great!” he says.
“Open it up and look at it,” I encourage him. He takes off the cellophane and opens the box, taking out the music player and staring at it in his hand. “Turn it over,” I whisper to him.
“I like the sound of ‘Us,’” he reads the engraving aloud. His smile grows as his eyes linger on the back of the iPod. His thumb rubs over the sentence. “So do I, Emi,” he sighs. “So do I.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” he says as I lean in to kiss him. “This means a lot.”
“Good,” I say, bouncing lightly on the couch. He puts the iPod on the table and hugs me, picking me up and placing me in his lap.
“Your turn,” he says, handing me the medium-sized box.
“Did you wrap this?” I ask, feeling the crisp edges of the paper.
“Uh, no. I had it wrapped at the department store. It was a fund-raiser for a local school. How could I say no to that?”
“Of course,” I smile. “I hate to ruin the paper...”
“Here,” he says, ripping through it. “I ruined it for you.”
He wraps his arms around me as I open the box and pull out a moss-colored pashmina. “Jack, it’s beautiful,” I tell him, wrapping it around my neck.
“Let me see,” he says, angling my body so he can see my face. “Yes, it certainly brings out your pale green eyes. You are gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I feel myself blush as his thumb grazes down my cheek to the corner of my lips. His mouth brushes mine softly before I’m drawn into a deeper kiss. Not tonight... but... no...
I break away, sooner than he does, but he doesn’t object. I pick up the larger gift that I brought for him. His arms still pulling me into him, he rests his head on my shoulder and asks me to open it for him. When I reveal the top-of-the-line noise-canceling headphones, he lets go of me and takes them from me.
“Wow,” he smiles. “I have been wanting these for my trips. Emi, I’ve priced these, I know they’re a lot,” he says, concerned.
“If I can’t worry about what you spent, you can’t worry about what I spent. Period.”
“But Emi, it’s different.”
“No, it’s not. So you make a little more than me. Whatever. I can afford this... remember, I don’t have to pay rent anymore.”
“A little,” he mumbles. “Okay...” He hesitates before kissing me on the cheek. “Thank you... now which one do you want to open next?”
“The little one,” I tell him as I pick it up. I rip into the neatly wrapped gift, making a production out of it this time. Inside are leather gloves, the same color as the scarf. “I see a theme here,” I say, pulling the gloves on. “Very warm. Very nice.” I pat his cheeks with the gloves and give him a peck on the lips.
“Okay, last one,” I say, handing him the smallest gift. “It’s just a gift card so you can buy your own music,” I tell him as he opens the present.
“You might have to help me spend this,” he says. “I don’t really know music... but you seem to have good taste in it.”
“Oh, we can find some things together,” I encourage him. “I’ll help you.”
“Very cool,” he says, nudging the last box on the table. As I stand to pick it up, he grabs my hips firmly, pulling me back down into his lap once I get the box. His hands skim my thighs lightly as I take the paper off and set it on the floor. I feel his lips move softly across the back of my neck and hear him inhale slowly.
“That feels good,” I whisper, distracted.
“Good,” he mumbles into my shoulder, kissing it delicately. “Open your present,” he adds before wrapping his lips around my earlobe. My god... I can feel the blood coursing through my body, speeding up.
I raise the lid and push the tissue paper aside, lifting up a heavy, black, knee-length cashmere coat with three large buttons and flared sleeves. It’s the prettiest coat I have ever seen, much less owned.
“Oh, my god, Jack, this is incredible...” I hold it up in front of me, touching the soft fabric lightly. “Kelly helped pick this out?” I ask.
“She did,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck. “It’s cute and practical. Novel concept...” His words are detached and muffled against my skin, his fingers grazing my arms.
“She has excellent taste,” I gush, ignoring his playful criticism of my frequent decisions to choose cuteness over comfort.
“Try it on,” he urges, snapping out of his daze and prodding me to stand up. “I want to make sure it fits.” I walk a few paces away from him as he unbuttons the coat, standing up to help me put it on. I hold out my gloved hand for him to put the first sleeve on, but he pulls the coat in and shakes his head. “We need to make sure it fits without the robe.”
“But my robe’s thin,” I laugh. “Really?”
“Really,” he says, the lust in his eyes evident. “For me?” he asks.
“You’ll hate what I’m wearing, Jack, I swear.”
“I doubt that very seriously,” he says. “I’ve pretty much figured it out by touching you.”
“Okay, well, you’ll hate me for wearing it, then,” I continue.
“Mmmmm...” he hesitates. “I doubt that, too. Please?”
I adjust the pashmina so it drapes over the entire front of my torso before unbelting the robe and taking it off. His eyes scan my body again as he puts the coat on me. I pull it closed, buttoning it up and pulling the pashmina out and throwing the ends over my shoulders.
“Well?” I say, modeling for him.
“I need to fix one thing first,” he says, kneeling in front of me and pushing my left sock down my leg. I pick up my foot so he can pull the rest of the sock off, and he does the same on my right side. He kisses each of my knees, paying careful attention to my scar, and I nearly melt right then and there when his tongue makes contact with my skin. He stands up and steps back to see the entire look.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his eyes completely sincere.
“So are you,” I tell him.
“And for the first time ever,” he continues, “I think you’re totally overdressed.”
He approaches me slowly, his blue eyes capturing mine. My heart pounds so hard I’m pretty sure he can hear it. He takes one hand, then the other, pulling on each fingertip of the gloves to take them off. He kisses each finger when he’s done, his eyes never leaving mine.
Next, he takes the ends of the pashmina and carefully unwraps it from my neck. He folds it neatly and sets it on the coffee table before kissing the hollow beneath both of my ears.
“My god, Jack,” I say in heady anticipation. Why not tonight?
“What?” he says, his smile obvious in his voice. I pull his lips to mine, my desire crystal clear, my reluctance to be with him completely... absent.
“I don’t want to want you like this,” I whisper as he unbuttons the top button of the coat.
“Why not?” he asks, unbuttoning the second one.
“Because I’m afraid I’ll let it go too far... and that I’ll regret it.”
“Emi,” he says, his eyes focused on the final button, his fingers slowly unfastening it. I squeeze his hands in mine, my muscles suddenly tense, afraid I’m leading him on too much. “Relax,” he tells me, his voice soothi
ng. He kisses my hands again before letting go of them.
He lifts the coat from my shoulders and slides it down my arms, laying it carefully on the back of the couch. He runs his hands from my shoulders to my wrists, picking up my arms and stepping back to see my lingerie.
“So beautiful,” he repeats, his eyes again settling on mine. “Emi, you were very up front with me about your boundaries for tonight, and I promise you I will respect them. As I said, this night is what you want it to be. I haven’t come this far in this... whatever we are...” he laughs, “without a considerable amount of restraint and willpower. I’m not going to stop that tonight just because you’re wearing revealing pajamas.”
“It’s not just the pajamas,” I protest, gripping the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. “I don’t want to stop kissing you... or touching you... is that too tempting?”
“It’s tempting, Emi, but I want you to just relax and enjoy this night with me. When we leave in the morning, I want you to know three things.”
“Yes?” I say as I kiss his chest, navigate my tongue to his neck. He picks me up in an embrace to help me reach him.
“That I think you are the most enchanting woman I have ever met... that I respect you, fully, no matter your request... and that I love you, Emi... that I want to be with you.”
“That’s four,” I correct him as he props me up higher. I wrap my legs around his back, locking my ankles, taking his earlobe between my teeth gently.
“I can’t count when you’re doing that,” he explains.
“We’re a couple,” I whisper in his ear, nibbling again.
“What?” he asks.
“You said, ‘whatever we are,’” I repeat his phrase. “We’re a couple. I’m committing to you right now. You’re the only man I want to be with. So it’s official. No more friend-dates.”
“Well, our last few haven’t been that anyway,” he says. “It’s been official to me for some time.”
“I know... but I’m ready to tell the world you’re my boyfriend... and by ‘the world,’ I– of course– mean my family.” He looks at me and smiles before greeting me with another kiss. A knock on the door interrupts us. “Are you expecting someone?” I whisper, breathless.