Sexy Holiday Delights

by Shara Azod

  With that he stood up, turned on his heel, and hunched against the cold, started for his car. Chloe watched him go, until the bitter weather forced her to raise her window and turn on the heat.

  As she drove home, she pondered Kevin’s words. Surely, he didn’t equate her to a piece of food? That would be all kinds of offensive…but what if the analogy fit? Not that he placed her on the same scale as food, after all. Maybe what he had been saying was that he had been afraid of trying something he thought wouldn’t be good for him, but once he had, realized what he’d been missing?

  Laughing, she shoved that aside, and noted that she might not be as sober as she had originally thought. He’d surprised her tonight; that she couldn’t deny. The kiss. The warmth.

  The not asking her out thing had made her want him to ask her out.

  Cree had known him since C.A.K.E. opened, but she didn’t utter the words “womanizer” and “Kevin” together at all. In fact, Cree had told her not to envision all men as her father. That was difficult for her to do. Most girls’ first love was their father. Daddies to little girls were their first heroes, protectors, and validators of their beauty and worth.

  And since Chloe’s father was a selfish, insatiable man, well, it took very little time before she realized that every male she’d selected for a boyfriend or a husband had those same hallmark traits. If nothing else, Chloe was self-aware and reflective enough to know it.

  She couldn’t see how Kevin could be different than the others. He even used some of the same stale lines to pick her up, as if she was a fish, swimming along in life with nothing else to do but wait to be devoured by some man.

  When she got home, she limped into her townhouse, locked the door, set the alarm, and plopped down on the sofa. As she laid back and traced her past invisibly on the ceiling, an epiphany arrived, perhaps gift-wrapped from Santa himself.

  Because she was self-aware, she knew what types of men she tended to select. Viewed from that perspective, why would she keep picking them, if as Cree said, she went in with eyes wide open? The likelihood that she would pick another selfish womanizer would be, well, unlikely.

  I will not be made barren by my fear.

  As she drifted off to sleep, Chloe could almost taste fruitcake on her lips.

  *****

  On the other side of the Triad, Kevin pulled into the garage of his house. Every inch ached, from cold, but mostly from fatigue. He’d worked out earlier and ran just before going over to Stephen’s dinner and it had caught up with him. Part of him blamed this fatigue, mixed with the chills from being outside in coffee-stained clothing, for why he hadn’t asked Chloe out a third time.

  From the blazing response to his kiss, Kevin knew she liked him. He liked her. That chemistry popped off the moment she came into Stephen’s office—so why, when the perfect opportunity presented itself, didn’t he close the deal?

  Because Chloe was more than a deal.

  In fact, the woman was a big deal. Just as the lightning moment when his eyes met hers, he knew then that she didn’t move earth, Chloe was heaven, and above all others. Classy. Smart. He’d been an idiot because he didn’t think at that moment, or any moment since that he could be the man she really wanted.

  Two rejections had already cut into his self-esteem, but also he didn’t—no, couldn’t take her—and the prospect of dating her lightly. Not anymore.

  Spending time with her tonight, watching her with Cree and Kenyatta, listening to her speak about marriage and men, and family, and memories, all just made him want her more. It also revealed a complex woman.

  Comedians had always used fruitcake as the something negative, as something to avoid. That woman is nuttier than a fruitcake.

  And, like him, he’d misjudged it completely, choosing instead to listen to others to make up him mind about something he’d never really experienced himself. Once he did take that small bit, he ate three more pieces and ordered one online from a local bakery, all before leaving Stephen’s house.

  He wouldn’t let anyone influence his decisions again. With a check of the clock, he finally got out of the car, went into the house from the garage, and noted, he had forty-five minutes before midnight, before Christmas. He hadn’t asked Santa for a present in fifteen years, but tonight, he only wanted one thing.

  A yes.

  Kevin picked up the phone and called Stephen. He answered on the fifth ring.

  “Do you have any damn idea how late it is?” Stephen roared.

  “Yes. I need Chloe’s phone number.” Kevin’s eyes darted to the clock. Forty minutes.

  “You called me for that.”

  “Stephen…”

  “I can’t just give you her number, any more than I can give Jackie Martin your number in high school.”

  Kevin paused. “Good point. Can Cree call and ask her if I can have her number?”

  Stephen’s tone became almost murderous. “Now you want me to wake up my wife so she can call her friend and wake her up?”

  Kevin sighed. “Since you put it that way, I guess it’s foolish. I’m sorry. Merry Christmas.”

  “Same to you.” Stephen ended the call.

  Kevin left his cell phone on the kitchen island, walked into his living room, and turned on his Christmas tree. He sat down and sighed as he admired the glittering ornaments and sparkling lights. Beneath the tree, a litter of presents awaited nephews and nieces. The big family gathering at his parents’ house would begin at two o’clock to let everyone celebrate at their own homes with their immediate family before heading over to Grandma’s house.

  He’d go early and help his parents set up, since as the last single child, his parents remained his immediate family. Toeing off his shoes, he relaxed on the sofa, still inhaling the odor of perfume and spilled coffee, and tasting Chloe’s kiss on his lips.

  The cell phone’s buzzing woke him with a start. He jolted awake and for the briefest of moments, thought he was still at the dinner.

  Blinking awake, he hurried into the kitchen, snatched up his phone and answered. “Kevin.”

  The time on the microwave read 11:56.

  “Kevin, this better be good,” Chloe’s sultry voice held hints of annoyance and beneath all of that—amusement.

  Thank you, Cree!

  And Santa.

  “I wanted to know if you would like to go to a New Year Eve’s party with me, in Charlotte.”

  “New Year’s?”

  “Eve.”

  “In Charlotte.”

  “Yes.” Was Chloe trying to test him to make sure she’d heard him right?

  “It’s one minute before midnight,” Chloe said. “Tell me, Kevin, are you a naughty or nice man? Tell me quick before St. Nick arrives.”

  “Both!” Kevin shouted. “That’s the honest truth. No coal in my stocking.”

  “Then yes, I will go with you.” Chloe chuckled before saying, “I’m going to bed. You have my number.”

  With that, she was gone.

  Kevin slumped against the kitchen island. She’d called him and agreed to go out with him. His holiday wish had come true.

  Excitement and joy bubbled through him until he couldn’t contain them. He laughed, loud, deep-belly and free, just like he felt.

  Chapter 8: New Year’s Eve

  The Rocketeer Bar

  Charlotte, NC

  On stage, The Sirens, a local pop music band, had closed their last set, and like everyone else crammed into the popular bar, their eyes were trained on one of several television screens strategically placed throughout the room. The glittering ball dropped lower and lower on the screen as the chorus of drunken and cheerful partiers counted down in unison.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” Chloe and Kevin roared with them. Hanging out together, they’d had a few beers, some seriously spicy wings, and a lot of good conversation. They’d played quiz bowl and she realized the Kevin’s knowledge of completely useless pop culture trivia complemented her own lack of it. They’d nearly won.

&nbs
p; He stood up and pushed his stool in. She spied him out of the corner of her eyes and he positioned himself beside her, drawing her into his arms. It felt good there, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Three, two, one…” Kevin whispered a breath before his lips closed over hers.

  Whistles, howls, and cheers erupted across the bar as people started singing and cheering the birth of the New Year. All this she heard, but longed to hold the moment just a few minutes more.

  “Oh, get a room!”

  Chloe’s eyes flapped open, and she broke the kiss. Kevin cupped her face and stroked her chin with his thumb. Still close, he whispered, “Happy New Year.”

  “It appears to have started off well enough.” Chloe kissed him lightly.

  “You want to go get breakfast?” Kevin glanced around. “Madison’s Pancake House is not a long way from here. Short walk.”

  Chloe wanted breakfast…in the morning. Tonight, she hungered for something else. In the week since he first asked her, they’d met off and on, trips to Tanglewood to see the lights the day after Christmas. The other days following Christmas day, they’d eaten in little unique bistros on Tate Street and in downtown Winston-Salem. Over those short interactions, Chloe had learned that beneath Kevin’s handsome exterior was a man of richness and depth, not unlike a fruitcake.

  Each interaction had become something seductive, like foreplay. Affection, lots of touching, like now; and then he’d fade back, as if restraining himself or maybe yielding to her will. She’d driven their relationship thus far, initiating the kissing, but Kevin reached for her hand, wrapped his arm around her waist, or draped his arm across her shoulders.

  With the dawn of the New Year upon them, Chloe wanted to indulge—in Kevin.

  “Chloe?” Kevin nudged her.

  “Hmmm…”

  She let her eyes roam over his dark jeans and dark crewneck sweater. His hair, red and close-cut, fit him. He wore his attractiveness casually, like he didn’t know. That made it all the more irresistible.

  “Chloe, you seem miles away from here. You ready to go home, then?” He stroked her back and signaled the bartender for the tab.

  “Yes.” Chloe slid off the stool and locked hands with him.

  Kevin shot her a confused look. “You’re turning in early.”

  Chloe laughed. That’s what you think.

  *****

  Nearly two hours later, Kevin pulled into a parking spot outside of Chloe’s townhouse. Throughout the ninety minute-drive from Charlotte, she sat in the passenger’s seat, her hair scattered around her shoulders, her slightly smudged lipstick, and nodding head amused him. He had no idea she’d been so exhausted.

  “Chloe. You’re home.” He touched her arm to gently wake her. “Chloe.”

  She woke. “That was quick. You must’ve floored it from the queen’s city.”

  “You party animal. You fell asleep as soon as I started the car.” Kevin opened her door and helped her out. She felt warm and soft against him.

  “I’m just now waking up.” Chloe stretched, pulling away from him in order to do so. “I’m so glad I didn’t have to dress up for tonight’s events. Just jeans, a sweater, and my boots.”

  “You looked great.”

  “Of course I do,” Chloe blew him a kiss as she unlocked her door.

  Kevin followed her inside without comment. Chloe seemed excited, renewed, but then she did just nap for almost two hours. She went through the home, flipping on the lights as she did so.

  As usual, he stopped in the living room, removed his coat, and hung it on the coatrack, but Chloe kept walking and disappeared down the short hallway and into her bedroom. The two-story townhouse had another guest room and her office upstairs along with another full bathroom.

  He sat down on her luscious leather sofa, and listened as she turned on some music. It emitted from her bedroom, and after several long minutes, he stood again.

  After fifteen minutes, he called to her. “Chloe.”

  When he didn’t get a response, he started for her room. He didn’t normally walk down the hallway, but she’d had a few drinks and it worried him that he didn’t get an immediate reply.

  “Chloe?” He inched into her bedroom.

  The queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room. Draped in a purple comforter, matching satin pillowcases, and runner, it looked like a bedroom from an upscale catalog or boutique. A leather chair, one that seemed to coordinate with the loveseat and sofa in the living room, sat in the corner.

  The bathroom door creaked open.

  She emerged wearing nothing but a naughty grin.

  And the world faded away. Kevin saw only her, dark and divine. He stumbled back against the chair as his legs gave way. His lips moved, but for nothing, words would not come.

  She stepped fully out into the bedroom. “Speechless. Nice.”

  “Chloe, what—what are you doing?” Kevin swallowed and tried to discreetly adjust his excitement.

  “You don’t like it?” She teased and turned around to peek over her sexy, nude shoulder at him.

  “God in heaven, I do! It’s just sudden.” He dared not breathe or move a muscle or else he’d disturb the brilliance of this moment. “It’s only been a week. You said you wanted to take it slow.”

  “Indulge me, Kevin. It’s a new year.” Chloe whispered as she turned back to him, and walked over to him, her heavy breasts bouncing as she did so.

  She infiltrated his personal space, and he snatched her to him, taking her lips captive in his. When he ended the hot kiss, she looked up at him with fire burning in her eyes. Good. He’d become inflamed himself.

  “I see change as something beautiful and strange, not to be feared.” Chloe whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Kevin’s heart beat faster. “The change I want, Chloe, will be permanent.” Kevin traced the curve of her lips. “As you said, new year, new commitment.”

  “Oh? Commitment?” Chloe kissed his finger.

  “Yes.” Her eyes widened with emotions he couldn’t read. “Chloe…”

  He kissed her again, unable to stop himself, to stop the slow burn of desire he had for her.

  “It’s only been one week,” Chloe giggled as she disrupted their kiss. They dissolved into moans as he rained kissed down her neck.

  Kevin loved the taste of her, and the very scent of her. “I don’t need years to discern a good quality woman. I’ve had a lifetime of terrible ones.”

  He ran his tongue along her collarbone. She shuddered in response, her nipples hard against his sweater. Her hand stroked his neck, but her moans only served to rouse his hunger, not sate it.

  “Chloe, are you sure of this?” He stood at the foot of her bed, watching with restraint of a saint, as she climbed onto the bedding; graceful, seductive, and exciting all of him, not just his sexual aspects.

  Beautiful felt stale, as did every other word in the English language. Perhaps he should’ve studied more French. He doubted that any of those words would be adequate, either. Goddess came close, but then it, too, failed.

  “Take. Them. Off.” Chloe gestured to his clothes before lying back against the sea of pillows behind her.

  “I mean my words, Chloe. If I come over there, we are no longer just casually dating.” Kevin toed off his shoes and waited, his gaze firmly on her. Those words burned in him and set his determination ablaze. He didn’t want to possess her, for Chloe wasn’t an object. No, Chloe was a force, and he—he alone—wanted to be swept up in it.

  Chloe stilled. “I see.”

  “I’m firm on this.”

  She quirked an eyebrow and looked down at his very erect and bulging phallus. “Yes, you are.”

  At that she dissolved into laughter.

  *****

  When Kevin removed his sweater, all the breath whooshed out of Chloe. She knew the man was fit, and took care of himself, but the solid six pack of abs he displayed outright cried for the attention of her mouth. He kept his gaze on her as h
e undressed, gauging her reactions. His breathing hitched, but then increased the more she watched until nothing but his athletic socks remained.

  Then he spoke.

  “The only heaven is when I’m with you, and while I know it’s only been a single week, I understand that it won’t always like this. But, but, I know it could be, and that hope is what will sustain me.”

  “We’ll see. Right now, I want you to come here and sustain me.” Chloe patted the bed beside her. “Now.”

  “I’m serious, Chloe.” He climbed on the bed, sporting his own naughty grin.

  “Me too,” she said, pouncing on him. He fell onto his back, taking her with him.

  “You’re nuttier than a fruitcake, Chloe,” he said with a grin, “but damn do I love it!”

  She loved the stroke of his hands across her back. His palms left a wide, invisible path that set her ablaze with each stroke. When his lips, soft and large, brushed the curve of his shoulders, her stomach clenched so hard, she almost fell off of him. His quick reflexes caught her and folded her into his arms.

  “No, you don’t.”

  With her skin hot and her pussy aroused, Chloe didn’t disobey. She’d had a moment, a millisecond before Kevin’s sexy mouth pressed into the valley between her breasts.

  Blown.

  All attempts at composure melted fully, like ice before a blowtorch. Chloe reached and found his hair. She ran her fingers through it as his lips moved to her very sensitive, very taut nipples.

  “Damn,” Kevin whispered. Short. Primal. A grunt with a syllables and half-assed attempts at pronunciation.

  It shot tiny pricks of pleasure across her body.

  Beneath her, he grew harder, even as she softened.

  “I want you,” she proclaimed, as she straddled him and took hold of him. She wouldn’t wait any longer. She lifted her hips and slowly sunk onto his long hard cock.

  “Fuck!” Kevin hissed, and palmed her ass. He lifted his hips in doing so, attempting to drive himself further into her cove.