Sexy Holiday Delights

by Shara Azod

  “Capisce.” They both said in unison, looking more than a little contrite.

  “Good. Now let’s go make Fanny Ciccorelli jealous. No one has more talented, beautiful, gifted babies then me.” With a strut that would make any super-model proud Angelina carried her cooing granddaughter down the center aisle of St. Joseph’s Cathedral to her regular pew, right in front of Fanny Ciccorelli.

  “Since when did we all become babies?” whispered Fi.

  “Oh, since when are you talking to me?” Max shot back with a raised brow.

  “Since we were slashed at the knees by your mother and don’t think this is over. I’m just trying to be civil in front of your mother and the baby. God already knows what you did. It’s too late for you to hide from him.”

  “Baby, seriously, are you going to carry this around until Christmas? There’s nothing more to this story. You had too much on your plate. I moved the plate around. It’s not like I cheated on you. I have every - ... ”

  “Oh, thinking about cheating on me now? Has that been rolling around in your brain also? I see. Again, I would like to call a moratorium on conversation until you can tell me what the hell that business move was all about. Until then, be quiet for the Lord.”

  Max’s mouth opened and shut soundlessly a few times before he gave up and just sat at Fiona’s side in the pew. Watching her through his peripheral vision he noticed her strained posture and the tightness with which she held her clutch in her lap. She was clearly steeled by her principles and righteous indignation. Then after ten or fifteen minutes into the sermon he felt her relax a bit and her shoulder bump his, then jerk away. She coughed a bit to cover her falter and then did the same thing again. She was dozing off in church. Max couldn’t help but smirk at her heavy lids and the third time she swayed toward him he slid his arm around the back of the pew and let her lean discreetly on his shoulder. From the back it would look like she was listening with her head on her husband’s shoulder and from the front, well, people need to be sitting forward and listening to the gospel and minding their own damn business; they needn’t be looking at his wife in the first place. Brushing a quick kiss on her hairline he thanked God for his stubborn, indomitable hellion and listened to the last of the sermon.

  After Mass

  Wednesday Evening

  Max continued to glance in his rearview mirror at his mother and Bella playing in the backseat of his car. The tension inside the car while driving to the house felt heavy and awkward; like an elephant on a tightrope that was going to fall at any moment. Fi continued her silent protest; studying the passing traffic most diligently and Nona was trying her best to keep the baby occupied.

  After pulling in the driveway, Max quickly glanced over at Fiona and placed a hand on her thigh.

  “Please stay. I’ll be right back.”

  Fiona gave a curt nod and unbuckled her belt but stayed put as Max escorted Nona and Bella into the house. When he came out of the house, he slid into the drivers’ side of the car and tried to sound both reasonable and hopeful.

  “Fi, we can’t keep this up. We have to talk sometime. Please, trust me—this is all just a misunderstanding,” cajoled Max, as he smoothly slid his arm behind her headrest, catching her gaze. “Be patient with me. You’ll see that this change in workload is a good idea. It has nothing to do with your skills or competencies—just your well-being and good time management.”

  Christmas Eve darling, One more day.

  Fiona turned fully in her seat to face Max.

  “Husband, this ever-obedient wife would like to thank you for complimenting me on my abilities at work and then insulting my common sense and sense of self-preservation. This ever-obedient wife would surely work her fingers to the bone to the detriment of herself, her husband, and her child without your guiding hand to steer her clear of disaster. I don’t know how I made it to thirty-seven without you.”

  Turning back in her seat, Fiona folded her arms under her breasts, essentially dismissing Max’s entreaty for patience. Max was utterly insulted that she would even think he could see her in that demeaning light. She was his partner, his rock, and after years of being together, she should know that with concrete certainty.

  He was suddenly furious at her condescension when he was clearly trying to ask for patience. He’d spent eleven months preparing this present for her, only to have her faith in him be rocked by a simple ploy to free up her schedule. Where had his perfect Christmas gone wrong?

  Though he felt defeated and frustrated, he wasn’t going to give away the plan, but he would let her know all was going to be right as rain tomorrow.

  “Damn it, Fi, I admit it. It is more than a workload issue. And soon you will have the full story behind the account change, just not today. Is that acceptable? Can we talk now without you throwing daggers out of your eyes at me?”

  “So there is another reason why the account was taken from me, and even now you are choosing to not tell me what it is. So apparently it’s also all right to keep secrets from me on top of slighting me. I see how this goes.” Fiona flung open the door to the car and slid out without Max’s assistance.

  Leaning in the doorway, she said the last thing Max heard from her lips for the next several hours. “Maxwell Santino, I would rather chew glass than be in the same bedroom with you. If you step foot in our bedroom tonight, I’m taking Bella, and we are spending Christmas with my parents in Portland.”

  Maxwell didn’t think he’d ever seen his wife flounce before, but sure enough, she huffed and puffed and flounced her bountiful ass all the way into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  He couldn’t help but let his head fall on the steering wheel and be amazed at the debacle that was his marriage right now. Just because of a Christmas present. There went the rule of no separate bedrooms and readily available sex. Now he knew how the other half lived. He should have just bought jewelry like Jonas suggested. But no, he was Mr. Go Big or Go Home.

  Bowing his head, he did as he’d always done when didn’t know what to do—he prayed for guidance.

  Dear Heavenly Father, please let my words and actions be of comfort to my wife tonight. I will give in and tell her about the surprise if it will ease her mind. Can we hold on one more day without this causing us permanent damage? Give me a sign. Thy will be done. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

  Maxwell’s phone began to buzz in the middle console, and he picked it up. His voice brusque and impatient, he said, “Santino.”

  Mike Johnson, the man who helped design and construct Maxwell’s five-bedroom, four-bathroom home five years ago, answered with efficiency.

  “Max, everything is going as planned. She’ll be ready per your specs by noon tomorrow,” Mike informed him. “Oh, and tell the Mrs. I said hello and thank her for the Christmas card and the generous gift. My wife jokes that building your house is the gift that keeps on giving. You got a real loyal one in that lady. She has a huge heart.”

  Max leaned back and let loose a sigh of relief. Everything was going as planned. He should stay the course. He’d never expected to hear the answer to his prayers from his contractor, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Thanks, Mike. You just made my Christmas a lot merrier. I appreciate all the work you and the boys have done this year. We still on for drinks after the holidays?”

  “’Course. I wanna hear about the Mrs.’s reaction as soon as you get back,” Mike replied jovially.

  “Will do. Merry Christmas,” Max said, with a smile on his face.

  His holidays were looking up.

  The Big Reveal

  Thursday - Christmas Eve Day

  Fiona heard a tentative knock on her home office door. A workaholic till the end, she couldn’t abide loose ends at work distracting her from her holidays. She’d come in here to finish up some presentations and collect her thoughts before crawling to Max with her beautiful tail between her legs.

  “Come in,” she answered, never taking her eyes from her
laptop.

  “You sure about that?” came a familiar baritone voice from behind the door.

  “Yes, Max. Come in,” Fiona said with a tired sigh.

  She’d hated sleeping by herself in their bed last night. It seemed so empty. Nothing was worse than sleeping alone in a marriage bed. As she lay in silence last night, she came to the conclusion that she could have simply waited to see the reasoning behind Max’s actions. A few more days wouldn’t have killed them, and she’d broken the one rule they’d kept intact for years.

  She was miserable, and she had let work problems affect her home life and family. She actually had some apologizing to do herself. Seeing her husband’s mussed hair and puffy eyes, she knew he’d spent most of the night on the sofa in front of the television. He’d probably fallen asleep there and never even made it to the guest bedroom. She’d realized in that moment that she could go without the security and comfort of her husband for hours or days, but she didn’t want to. He was not the outside world she had to prove something to. He was her protection to trust, just like she was his gift to cherish. He’d never defaulted on his end of the bargain. Not once had she’d ever truly questioned his devotion to her and Bella. He did not deserve her mistrust or attitude. He deserved the time he’d asked for.

  It had been cold and unfamiliar not rolling into his large frame in the dark and curling into his warmth. She missed the reassuring sound of his evening breathing when he slept and how he held her hand or hip no matter what position she fell asleep in. This being Christmas Eve day, Bella did not have daycare but Max had kept the baby on her morning routine of breakfast, bath and dressing and had let Fiona sleep in a few extra hours. In spite of her stubbornness, he was a magnificent husband and father, and she owed it to him to give him the trust he’d earned.

  She watched Max enter and shut the door softly behind him as if he were afraid of startling a skittish doe. He had his hands in his pockets, looking more nervous than she had seen him since the night he proposed.

  “I wanted to see if you’d like to go to lunch. I have something I want to show you. It will answer all of the questions you’ve had this last week and explain why I wanted you to have some free time coming up.”

  “Sure, baby,” she began, walking around her desk to stand before him. “But I want to say something before we go see this secret. Last night I did some real thinking. There is a difference between blind faith and trust. You asked me repeatedly to trust you over the last few days, and I held so hard to my anger I lost sight of the fact that you have never done one thing during our life together that would negatively affect our daughter or me. You’ve never done anything other than improve my quality of life. I trust you. I love you. Will you forgive my stubbornness, my lack of faith? ” Fiona held his blue gaze with her soulful brown one, speaking of love and forever in the way only well-matched couples can. She was surprised to see the blue eyes she loved so much shimmer with unshed tears.

  “Oh, baby, don’t cry,” she whispered, leaning up to press her full lips to his. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with so we can move on and have a peaceful holid--- … Oh, Max!”

  Suddenly, she was lifted off the floor in a mighty hug that left her feet dangling and her arms clutching his shoulders.

  “I love you more than life, wife—know this. Don’t ever ask that I spend another night without you, okay?” Max asked, his eyes pleading.

  “Yes, husband, never again.” Fiona laughed. “I have a feeling we have some making up to do, and this surprise is holding us up. Why don’t we make our way to your big reveal, and then we can get to the good stuff.”

  “This is the good stuff,” Max whispered in her ear as he lowered her to the ground.

  ****

  Fiona wrapped her fur-lined winter coat around her as Max rounded the car to open the door. The northeast wind was whipping his wool coat around his body like a referee’s foul flag. She was already cold, and she hadn’t exited the car yet.

  He had driven them to Boston Harbor Yacht Club, but Fiona was pretty sure no one was going to be in the marina at this time of year. Taking her gloved hand in his, Max walked them down to the a few steps to the dock and turned Fiona’s body toward the water while covering her eyes. Over the whistling winter wind and the sound of the city behind her, Fiona heard Max’s quiet demand.

  “Open your eyes, my love. Merry Christmas.”

  Fiona blinked against the wind and finally focused on a one-hundred-ten-foot traditional sloop. The regal vessel had a cockpit for the helmsman and a beautiful, low-profile cabin house. From the outside, the forward cockpit looked to hold ten or twelve guests easily, and on both the side and stern of the boat in silver script was Fiona’s Love.

  Fiona could not stop the tears from streaming down her face as Max diligently tried to wipe them from her cheeks.

  “I love her, Max!” she exclaimed wildly, hurling herself into his arms.

  “You see, Captain Fi, I just wanted to give you more time to enjoy your present. Today is her official birthday. She took exactly eleven months to be born,” Max explained.

  Still wrapped in her husband’s embrace, Fiona looked up and said with mock seriousness, “See, I told you handing over that big account to Bill would be a good idea. We definitely needed some more quality time together. What say we go make up on my new boat? My sexy husband got it for me for Christmas.”

  Max was already halfway down the dock.

  “Wait!” she said laughing uproariously. “Don’t we need keys to get inside? It’s going to be a little chilly, naked on the deck of a boat in Boston at high-noon in the middle of winter.”

  Max patted his coat pocket and smiled.

  “Keys …wife…naked...happy.” he answered, pulling over the ladder to climb aboard.

  Due to the season every other boat sat on lifts above the ground, covered and winterized. Fiona’s Love was the only boat in the row on lifts without a cover. As Fiona climbed up the ladder she noticed the lovely twinkle of lights trimming the deck, the boughs of evergreen and red, velvet bows adorning each window. It was gorgeous.

  “Oh baby!” she exclaimed. “She’s stunning.”

  “She had to be worthy of her mistress. I asked Mike Johnson to decorate her for Christmas after they finished the interior work. He didn’t seem like the fancy-shmancy type to do her justice. I’m happily impressed.”

  Fiona entered the cabin in a daze of wonder at the shiny mahogany and gleaming brass accents. She could have a dinner party in this space with no problem. At one end of the cabin was a burgundy leather bar with a mahogany inlay top that sported a beautiful crystal wine bucket, flanked with two crystal flutes. Walking up to the bucket she lifted the bottle from the ice and whistled low.

  “Impressive, Mr. Santino, Moet champagne.”

  Reaching around her to pick a small white card, Max flipped it open and chuckled.

  “That’s not me. That’s Mike’s Johnson’s wife, Elaine. That would explain the exceptional decorations. ”

  To the Santinos and Fiona’s Love ,

  Every great lady deserves a drink on her birthday.

  Have a wonderful holiday!

  Elaine Johnson

  Fiona took off her coat, slipped off her shoes and flung herself backwards on the cream leather wrap around sofa.

  “Jeeves,I’d love a spot of champagne.” She joked in her haughtiest of voices.

  Max looked up from popping the cork.

  “Hmm, Jeeves wants a spot of Fiona.” Pop! “Let’s go see the bedroom.”

  Fiona yelped when he grabbed her hand and shuffled her impatiently towards the sleeping quarters. Laughing while trying to keep with up she gestured back towards the bar.

  “ You forgot the glasses…Max…you forg-..”

  “I didn’t forget a thing,” Max said, pulling her tight against him with her back against the bedroom door. “I’m going to spend the next few hours drinking champagne off of every inch of your skin I can reach and listening to every happy sigh
, giggle and scream of joy you can make, wife. We won’t need glasses for this party.”

  “Oh, husband. Is this where I tell you that I want so bad I’m already wet for you?” She said, scoring her nails down his heavily muscled back.

  “Hmmm, That’s good because if I get any harder I’m going to destroy a perfectly good pair of jeans. Get naked, Fi.”

  “Get me naked, Max”, she countered.

  Fiona felt Max reach behind her and turn the knob on the bedroom door. In a clumsy, joyful tumble they fell inside, his hands roving her back and hips and her hands splayed over his wide shoulders. Fiona laughed loudly as Max licked and bit the soft flesh between her shoulder and throat.

  The first thing to get destroyed was her simple, cotton blouse. Fiona had no idea how it ended up in two pieces on the floor because she was too busy yanking Max’s button-down shirt over his shoulders to get to his chest. That had to be one of her favorited body parts on him. It was wide and hard with a cavern down the middle that begged for a champagne river. Lowering to her knees she was eye level with the hard seam of Max’s erection against his pants. Opening her mouth she engulfed the head through his jeans and blew warm air against his sensitive tip. Reaching up to unfasten the buckle she continued to suckle until his jeans were undone and the warm wetness of her mouth left a damp spot on the front plackets. Gripping the opening to his jeans, she spread them wide and tugged them down forcefully; so hard his impressive cock sprang free at full mast, curving towards the sky.

  She was surprised to hear her own, low, female groan slip from her lips.