All I Want - a Tryst With a Twist
Page 2
“I can’t afford to lose my job, but looking at you here, your beauty, how sexy you are, and how good you feel.” He ran his hand over her stomach and upwards. His thumb slid across her bottom lip and stopped when her tongue dipped out to touch him. “You make me want to stay and do very bad things to you.”
“Bad or good?”
“Bad, but they’ll feel so good.”
“Stay.”
He chuckled. “I can’t.” He rolled to his side and got out of bed, walking into the living room where they had discarded their clothes. When he returned to the bedroom, he set her clothes neatly at the base of the bed and began to get dressed.
Resting her arms behind her head, Christina admired his body as he slid his jeans up his legs and felt a pang of disappointment when he fastened the belt. He was too sexy for his own good, she thought, appreciating his muscular physique, and definitely too sexy for her good. Their time was coming to an end too soon for her liking.
“Don’t you have to return to work, too?” he asked, staring at the siren lounging in bed.
Images of spending her day with him in bed, laughing, making love, and sleeping crossed her mind. They were images that made her think she should consider skipping work the rest of the day, convincing him to stay, and spending it with him in bed instead. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she said, “I have time. I have an hour break.”
Once completely dressed again, he crawled over her sheet-covered body. Lifting the sheet up, he kissed each of her breasts then kissed the swollen lips he’d already fallen in love with.
Running her fingers through his brown hair, she went lower and ran the tip of her index finger lightly over the fresh scratch above his eyebrow. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“The Christmas tree business is very dangerous,” he replied sarcastically.
“Your face is too handsome to be scarred by an over-priced pine tree.”
He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Lifting her head up, she brought her lips to the wound and kissed it. His eyes were closed, as if he was savoring the feel of her lips on his skin.
With a sigh, he stood up. “Get the decorations ready because I’m going to bring you a tree, beautiful.”
Her lids were heavy and her voice was raspy with exhaustion. “Only if you help me decorate it, and we do this again.”
“What about your husband?”
“He leaves me alone all the time and a woman has needs.” Her tone was suggestive as if he wasn’t even a factor in the equation that was now Lawson and Christina.
He arched an eyebrow, and replied, “You’ll be seeing me sooner than later… to help you out with those needs.”
“I count on it, and look forward to it.”
He left her naked and lying in her marital bed, happy and satisfied with no regrets.
A few minutes later, Christina hopped in the shower and cleaned her body. As she lathered, she caught sight of her gold band and cleaned it, too. She smiled, feeling warm and loved as she turned the band around on her finger under the warm shower spray.
With the weather taking a turn for the worse, the coffee bar was packed with customers the rest of the day. She finished her workday at a quarter after eight, calling it a day after a ten hour shift. Although her feet were throbbing, and she had just gotten her third steam burn today from the frothing spigot while making an extra-large soy milk mocha latte double foam, she didn’t mind the extra hours because she knew she’d be returning to an empty apartment. She clocked out and grabbed her coat. Walking out into the cool December air, she soothed her newest burn by rubbing gently over the mark near her thumb. But, the cold won out, and she slipped on her gloves.
Since there was no rush to get home, she could take her time on her walk home and maybe ogle a certain tree salesman for awhile. Her husband worked ungodly hours during the holidays. They needed the extra money for the next semester of university, so they sacrificed their time together temporarily.
When she approached the tree lot, she slowed her pace to make sure Lawson saw her. Their eyes connected and she sent him a small wave and a smile. He was busy talking to a family of six who couldn’t decide between a flocked Fir or a Blue Pine, but he couldn’t help the smile that covered his face, and waved back.
She didn’t linger tonight and went home, knowing that’s all he could give her at the time. When she entered her apartment, she clicked on the lamp nearest the couch, and unwound her scarf from around her neck. Tossing her purse and coat down on the arm of the couch, she started to undress and get more comfortable. In hopes of having a tree delivered especially for her, she went to the hall closet and pulled the boxes of decorations from the very back and set them in front of the TV.
Wanting to remember the feel of Lawson and his hands on her body from earlier that afternoon, she lay down on the couch, pulled a blanket over her, and grabbed the remote. After turning on the twenty-four hour Christmas music station, she closed her eyes, and let the vivid memories of his touch cover her.
At ten-thirty, she heard a light knock on her front door, waking her up. She had fallen asleep bundled up on the couch. The knock was soft, but insistent, and she scampered from the warmth of the couch, opening the door wide.
“Hi.” She stood in her panties and tank top with her hand on her hip, tilting her head and questioning Lawson. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”
“I hope you don’t mind, beautiful. But I saw this tree and wanted to give it to you,” he said, presenting the sad, little, sparse-needled Fir to her.
Her heart swooned at the sweet gesture. “You remembered.”
“How could I ever forget? You say the same thing every year, bring me the tree that no one else wants, and we’ll give it a good home.”
Christina wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, and hummed. “Happy anniversary, honey.”
He kissed her with all the love they have shared over the last five years. “Happy anniversary, my beautiful wife.”
As he dragged the tree into their tiny living room, he noticed she had pulled their two boxes of ornaments out of storage in preparation of their Christmas Eve ritual. Christina turned the music up a little louder and brought her husband a cup of spiked eggnog. As they decorated the tree together, he teased her about something she had said earlier that day. “Controlling and unreasonable, huh?” He smirked and cocked his eyebrow up.
Christina returned the same smirk, a smirk she had picked up from her husband over the years then shrugged. “Don’t forget possessive.”
Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he chuckled. “Oh, I could never forget possessive, my love.” He kissed her three times on the neck as they looked at their decorating handiwork.
They sat down when they finished decorating their tree and smiled because even a sad, sparse-needled Fir had managed to brighten the whole apartment up with Christmas cheer.
He pulled a piece of mistletoe from his pocket and held it over their heads. “Tell me what you want for Christmas.”
She never kept him waiting, and wouldn’t tonight either. “All I want is you. Only you.” When she leaned forward, he cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her sweet and gentle. Sitting in front of the little tree covered in a hundred colored lights, he waggled his eyebrows. “When I returned to work today, I was thinking that this time next year, I’ll have my law degree. It will be fun to figure out what game we’ll play for our next anniversary?”
All the ideas that entered her head were naughty, and so very nice. “The rugged lumberjack fantasy has been fun these last few years, but maybe next time, I can be your client and you can show me how you’ll handle my case.”
His lips maneuvered down her neck as his hands slid under her tank top. “I love our role-playing trysts.”
“I love you,” she said, straddling his lap. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
With his lips pressed against hers, he whisper
ed, “Merry Christmas, baby.”
THE END.
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About the AuthorS.L. Scott is a former high-tech account manager with a journalism degree pursuing her passion for telling stories. She spends her days escaping into her characters and letting them lead her on their adventures.
Live music shows, harvesting jalapenos and eating homemade guacamole are her obsessions she calls hobbies.
Scott lives in the beautiful Texas Hill Country of Austin with her husband, two young sons, two Papillons and a bowl full of Sea Monkeys.
To learn more about this author and her writing,
please visit www.slscottauthor.com