You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology
Page 15
All that stuff was back in his summer home down at the Jersey Shore, the one he’d made with Becky. He’d felt no urge to have that stuff follow him here, so looking at it from someone else’s eyes his place might seem rather Spartan.
If she was doing any kind of assessment, it didn’t show on her face. In fact if he had to categorize what she looked like now, it would be nervous.
He’d rushed this. He should have taken her out again. Let the tension build between them until she was certain she was ready. It’s just when he asked her where she wanted to go, he thought her answer sounded a lot like bed.
She had to know how much he wanted her. She had to know that’s what he’d been thinking.
“Kate, if you’re not ready…”
“I’m ready,” she said even as she was taking off her coat and tossing it on the couch behind her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready.”
She pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into the purse she had slung over her shoulder, and that too got tossed on the couch. He took her in from top to bottom and again was struck by how different she was from any woman he’d ever been with. Becky had been as simple and basic as a woman could be. Never cared about clothes or makeup. Never changed her hairstyle or color, and he’d never cared.
When he hooked up with a woman, the first time after Becky had died, he’d told himself to find the opposite. Something that wouldn’t have him thinking about his dead wife the whole time. That woman—hell, he didn’t even remember her name—had been over-the-top done up. Short skirt, lots of cleavage, big hair. They had gone to a hotel and for the first time he’d felt fake tits. It had been off-putting, actually.
John had no worries about that with Kate. There was nothing fake about her. Not the diamonds in her ears or on her fingers. Not the faint hint of lilac which he thought must be her shampoo. She was the real deal in every way.
She stepped closer to him, and when he looked down he saw her hands.
“You’re shaking.”
“Cold,” she replied.
Except when he took them in his own hands, they weren’t even a little cold. Of course they wouldn’t be, because her gloves would be of the finest quality. He lifted them to his lips and blew on them again.
“Then let’s see about getting you warm.”
He tugged her along behind him and made his way to the single bedroom. Again he wasn’t concerned about what she would find. He kept his dirty clothes in a hamper in the closet. He kept his bath towels hung neatly in the bathroom on towel racks. There was a book and some reading glasses on his nightstand, his addiction to reading having stayed with him after he was released from prison.
His bed was neatly made, because Becky had always made the bed and he saw no reason to change that.
“John… you should know it’s been a while for me. I mean actual sex. What we did before—that was all… fantasy. This… this is reality. I don’t know if I am the same person who said all those things on the phone.”
John had already suspected as much. “Is that why you’re so nervous?”
She huffed out a little breath like she was embarrassed for being called out. “I guess it’s obvious.”
“I’m the man you’re about to sleep with. I’m paying pretty close attention to everything you’re doing right now. Let’s find out what person you are. What can I do to make you not nervous?”
“The kissing helps.”
“Then let’s do more of that.”
He lifted his hands to cup her cheeks—they were still cold actually—and he tilted her head so that their mouths fit perfectly. She trembled delicately for a second, but then his tongue was twirling with hers and she was doing everything she could to get closer to him.
He thought back to Christmas night and the things he’d written to her, the things she’d responded to. It was interesting that this would be the first time doing this with her, but he already had some advance knowledge.
One thing was for certain, Kate preferred that he be in charge. That, he thought, would make her less nervous. She would know it was his role to lead and hers to follow, and she wouldn’t have to do any of the thinking.
John pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and he could take in every detail. The freckles over her nose, the way her nose turned up at the end. He knew she was forty-three from the app, but right now she didn’t look more than eighteen years old to him.
“Look at me, Kate.”
Slowly, almost reluctantly her eyes opened. “We’re going to do this my way, okay? I tell you what to do and you’re going to do it.”
He could see her pupils dilate and knew he’d read her correctly. She wanted to give herself over to him, and the thought of having a woman like Kate, his to command, was making his dick so hard he thought it would break the zipper of his jeans.
“Do you trust me?”
Hesitantly, she nodded.
“I want you to take off your clothes and get on the bed now.”
He knew what he wanted, and he walked over to his closet and opened the door. Over his shoulder he saw that she was still standing motionless.
“Kate. Now. Start unbuttoning your blouse.”
The specific task seemed to work. As if previously she had no idea how to start getting naked. He watched her as she carefully undid the cuffs at her wrists, and then worked from bottom up to undo the buttons. He liked that he knew that about her. That she unbuttoned bottom up instead of top down.
He reached in and immediately found what he was looking for. John only owned one suit for weddings and funerals, which meant he owned exactly one tie. It was blue and gray and good quality, because if you’re only buying one it should be a nice one.
When he turned around she was stepping out of her slim high heels and letting her slacks fall around her ankles.
Left in only a white lace bra that enabled him to see her nipples, which were hard, and a purple pair of panties that rode high on her hips, she was stunning. And he liked the fact that her underwear didn’t match. She hadn’t thought she would be sleeping with the other guy tonight.
“All of it, Kate. I said naked.”
“It’s just that… I mean you know how old…”
In two steps he was in front of her. He took her hand and pressed it against his hard, throbbing cock. Then, because he was a masochist, he thrust against that hand a few times because it felt so damn good.
“Yeah, I know how old you are and you know how old I am, and I want you like nothing I can remember. Naked. Now. Remember. The way I like it.”
She slid her fingers down to her hips and pulled her panties down slowly over her thighs until she was stepping out of them. Then effortlessly she unhooked her bra and with a shrug of her shoulders he was suddenly seeing her breasts.
Nothing fake about those. Round, luscious, with hard-tipped nipples. These were a woman’s breasts, and he was helpless not to cup them in his hands. To tug on those hard nipples until she whimpered.
Needing a little space if he was going to do this right, he stepped back.
He held up the tie. “I’m only going to blindfold you, Kate. I think it will make it easier for you. You can lie back and feel what I’m doing to your body. Enjoy it. Yes?”
Again there was some hesitation, but her nipples were still incredibly tight and he knew if he touched her at her core, she would be wet. Eventually, she nodded.
“On the bed now.”
She obeyed quickly and he draped the tie over her stomach as a reminder of what it was going to be used for. Then he set about taking off his leather jacket, the sweater he’d thrown on when she’d texted him the restaurant’s address, his boots, jeans and boxer briefs.
Working on the water his whole life, he knew what he looked like. A hard man everywhere, and based on the expression on Kate’s face she liked hard men. Walking over to the bed, he took her hand again and placed it on his cock.
“Stroke me,” he said, and showed her how he liked it.
“Close your eyes.”
She did and he quickly moved to wrap the tie around her eyes, securing it with a gentle knot. Something she could easily slip out of. The point of the tie was not to blind her, rather to allow her to let go. To not think so much about what was happening but feel what was happening.
He suspected his uptight entrepreneur did way too much thinking.
John pulled away to look at her. Naked, she was beautiful. Lush full breasts, a waist that tapered in and then flared out to full hips. Another thing he figured he would never understand about women. She’d actually been worried about how he would react to seeing her like this. As if her age was some disgusting thing, instead of just another phase of a beautiful body.
Either way, his dick was harder than he ever remembered it being in his youth and that was all that mattered.
Bending down, he wanted to surprise her so he put his mouth directly over her belly button. She gasped, but didn’t move and he continued to run his tongue around the delicate little hole until she was trembling.
Then he moved up and took her nipple into his mouth to suck, and again she made a sound that told him of pleasure.
“Talk to me, Kate,” he said as he pulled away. “Tell me what you like.”
He didn’t wait for an answer before he moved to her other breast, kissing, nipping and then finally sucking with enough pressure to make her body twist on the bed. Suddenly, John didn’t like the feeling of disconnect, standing over her as he was. He bent down and kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers until he could feel her fingers burying into his hair, clinging to him like she’d just rediscovered the joy of kissing and never wanted it to end.
He pulled away and moved to get on the bed with her, pushing her to one side to make room for him. It was strange. He’d fucked women after Becky had died, but he’d never done it with someone he cared about. For as short a time as they had known each other, he did care about Kate. He hadn’t been lying to her when he said he wanted to make love to her.
Something about her was special, and he paused to see if he would feel any lingering guilt. But then he was pulling on her nipples and gently biting her ear, and she was making these little keening sounds in the back of her throat that were driving him wild and there was no room for guilt. Only pleasure.
His fingers drifted down over her belly, down between her legs, and she was so wet he instinctively thrust his cock against her hip. He thought about what she had told him, about her clit being too sensitive to direct touch, so he played around the edge of it, letting his fingers dance on top of it, rather than pushing hard on it.
“John, please. I need…”
He thought about the things he wanted to do to her. The things they had talked about on that magical Christmas night. He wanted to go down on her, taste her, but he was too close to the edge to prolong this. Next time, he thought.
He reached over to his bedstand drawer and pulled out a condom, which he quickly rolled on. Then he was on top of her, and she was spreading her legs to make room for him. Before she could prepare for it, or tense against it, he thrust hard and deep.
“Oh my God!” He could feel her tighten around him, knew she was coming and he needed to see her eyes. Needed to see what she was feeling.
He pushed off the loose tie and watched as those green eyes opened and looked at him with such intensity, he had to bite his lower lip and fight not to come.
“Again,” he growled against her neck as he started to pound heavy and deep inside of her.
“I… I can’t,” she panted.
Not satisfied with that answer, he gripped his hand under her thigh and shifted her leg up high and over his hip. It changed his angle, and he started thrusting again, and the cry he wrangled out of her was worth it. God, she felt so good. So hot and tight.
He could feel the clench of her nails in his back, could feel her body tightening around him again, could feel her squeezing down on his cock and suddenly it was all too much. He bent down to kiss her, even as he felt himself explode with one last heavy thrust against her while she cried out her pleasure again.
Spent, he let himself collapse on top of her. Absorbing the feel of her hands softly stroking his back, where before they had been clawing him. It was a pleasure he hadn’t realized he’d missed.
It made him feel cherished.
Sadly, he needed to get rid of the condom and she needed to breathe. Rolling off her, he dealt with the logistics, but was quickly back in bed, pulling her against him. He wasn’t going to think about that small resistance he felt when he tucked her up against him.
“What happens now?” she asked on a quiet whisper.
It seemed obvious to him. “We sleep,” he said as he kissed her shoulder. “And then we wake up and do it all over again.”
He closed his eyes and in seconds he was out.
John woke up the next morning to an empty bed. When he ran his hands over the sheets next to him, he discovered they weren’t remotely warm. He wasn’t going to panic. She said it had been a while for her and she was just being skittish. Four orgasms over the course of two amazing rounds of sex was bound to unnerve a woman not used to something like that.
He glanced at the bed stand and frowned when he didn’t see a note. He got up, pissed, brushed his teeth and then went to discover that she’d left no note anywhere in his apartment.
He found his phone he’d left in the back pocket of his jeans and texted her.
Good morning, sweetheart. I wanted to make you breakfast :(. See, you reduced me to an emoji.
He waited for the excuse. The early business meeting she had. The morning appointment she couldn’t be late for. The landscaper who was coming to work on the lawn, which of course would be ridiculous in winter.
Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be angry. He knew he was going to have to be patient with her. Take it slow. He’d sensed it last night with how nervous she’d been. She’d been wound so tight, until he’d fucked her into exhaustion. Or thought he had.
Frowning at the idea she had left in the middle the night when it had been dark and she was alone, John told himself it would have been easy enough for her to call a cab or Uber. Still he would feel better once he saw the dots appear on his phone letting him know she was alright.
Only the dots never showed up.
An hour later, and two more unanswered texts, he was starting to get really nervous.
Kate, this is serious. I need to know you made it home okay or I’m going out looking for you.
Finally he saw the dots. At least she was alive. But as quickly as they appeared suddenly they were gone.
She wasn’t going to answer him. If not for some damn dots on a screen, he would have been left to worry about her all day.
Suddenly a message popped up. At least she wasn’t that cruel, he thought, but he could feel her shutting the door in his face. Firmly.
I’m fine. Goodbye John.
He thought about any number of things he could say to change her mind. Except not via a damn text. John needed to talk to her. He needed to tell her she was just scared because what had happened between them had been really intense. It wasn’t just the sex either, he knew that. It was all the feeling behind the sex that had sent her running.
He had to see her to tell her that. He didn’t know where she worked. Hell, now that he thought about it he didn’t even know her last name. That’s how sudden this had all been.
All he had was a number, and that text had said it all. She wasn’t going to answer him again. For all he knew she was blocking him right now.
“Shit,” John said, throwing the phone at the unmade bed that still smelled faintly of her.
That’s when he had to accept it. Maybe this wasn’t her running scared at all. Maybe
Kate had finally come to the realization he had that first time he saw her.
She was in fact out of his league.
Chapter Eight
Kate stared at her computer, looking at an email she’d read for the hundredth time, but it still wasn’t making any sense to her. Déjà vu, she thought sadly. Although in her defense nothing was making sense lately. Not a single thing had made sense since she got up out of John’s bed and left in the early hours of the morning.
He’d been snoring. Not a loud, obnoxious sound, just a soft rumble of his chest that made him even more endearing.
If that was possible.
Which is why it made perfect sense to leave him. While she could. Before she took this thing… whatever it was, too seriously. It was a fling. A Christmas miracle, in her case. She’d had some pretty amazing sex, and now she was good. No need for anyone’s emotions to get involved.
“Okay, you know you’re crying, right?”
Kate looked up to see Sally standing in her office door with a cup of Starbucks in her hand. She quickly brushed the corner of her eye with her fingers.
“Eyelash,” she muttered.
“Right.” Sally said unconvincingly as she set the white cardboard cup in front of her.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kate asked, reaching for it with the idea that drowning in the coffee might make her feel better.
“I was coming back from lunch and I thought you might need it. I’m going to say this as politely as I can. You look like hell, Kate.”
Kate looked at her longtime friend and co-worker. “That wasn’t very polite.”
Sally sat down. “Please tell me what happened. I know this isn’t about my guy. Carol told me you bailed on the hookup, so I have to assume this is about the ex-con. You saw him again? Did he… I mean geez… did he hurt you?”