A Christmas Kiss

by Celeste O. Norfleet

  Bianca’s eyes had locked with Ethan’s, the two sharing a moment as she reflected on his question.

  She’d finally given him a smile, her expression smug as she pulled another spoonful of creamy goodness into her mouth. “I don’t have an issue with being married, Mr. Christmas, but you are too old to be having children.”

  Ethan had laughed, her comment surprising him. “I beg your pardon!”

  “You’re in your fifties. If we had children now, you’d be close to seventy when they graduated high school. People would think you’re their grandfather.”

  He’d shaken his head, reaching for her hand. “That shouldn’t stop us if that’s what you want. I might be close to seventy, but I’m going to be a good-looking seventy, I assure you. Now the question is whether or not you’re going to be able to keep up or if I’m going to have to replace you.”

  “There you go! Already planning to troll the school yard again!” she’d said with a giggle.

  “You and Jarrod must be trading notes. He said the same thing.”

  She’d laughed. “We had a good laugh about it.”

  The moment had been interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. The two had eyed each other with surprise as Ethan slid off the bar stool and hurried to the front entrance. A uniformed sheriff had stood on the other side, holding a ski helmet in his hand. His snowmobile had been parked behind him.

  “Hey, Jack!” Ethan had exclaimed.

  “Ethan, good to see you,” the man named Jack had said, shaking Ethan’s hand eagerly. “Your son called the office and asked us to do a wellness check. I saw your car in the ditch at the end of the road and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  Ethan had nodded. “I appreciate that.” He gestured in Bianca’s direction and she tossed the man an easy wave of her hand. “We got stranded and the phones are down. I figured it was going to be a day or two before we’d be able to get out of here. But we’re good.”

  “No problems with the power?”

  “No, you know all my lines were run underground. Best investment I could have made. Plus, I have the generator if anything does happen.”

  “Well, I’ll call your son back and tell him you’re okay. It’ll probably be sometime after Christmas before we can get the roads clear enough for someone to get in here to get you. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  Ethan had shaken his head. “No, I think we’re okay, but if you’d please tell Jarrod to call Bianca’s parents to let them know she’s safe, I’d appreciate that.”

  “No problem,” Jack had said.

  “Do you want to come in? We can make you a cup of coffee.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I need to get back. I need to check on the Johnsons over on highway nine. I know they lost power. Then I need to get home and put together a Barbie playhouse for my baby girl. Santa duties, you know?”

  “I understand completely.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, and I’ll come check on you again in a day or two.”

  “Thanks again and Merry Christmas to you, too!” Ethan had said, standing in the doorway until the man was down the road and out of sight.

  As he’d closed the door, Bianca had retreated back into the kitchen, intent on washing and drying the dishes.

  Now they sat together in front of the fireplace, enjoying the company and the conversation, sharing their second bottle of wine. It had been a perfect day. Bianca couldn’t remember being so overwhelmingly happy. They’d had fun together, enjoying each other as if they hadn’t a care in the world. And now, being so close to him had her heated, the intensity of it having nothing to do with the warmth of the room or the fire in the fireplace. Ethan’s touch was teasing, his hands gently kneading, his fingertips surging with energy.

  “It’s almost midnight,” Ethan said softly, his hand caressing her forearm. “Another few minutes, and it’ll be Christmas.”

  Bianca snuggled closer against him. “Did you write Santa a letter this year?” she asked, her smile teasing.

  He nodded. “I did. I asked him to bring me the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

  She laughed, her expression smug. “Looks like you made Santa’s good list this year. Your present came early.”

  He sat up and looked around the room. “Really? I don’t see . . .”

  Bianca laughed with him, punching him lightly in the forearm. “Be careful what you wish for Mr. Christmas!”

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her close. “Santa done good this year. I have no complaints.”

  Bianca nodded. “Well, I have a complaint. A big one!”

  “Really? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m still trying to figure out why you haven’t kissed me yet, Mr. Christmas. You’ve seen me in lingerie, you’ve sung to me, I’ve cooked you breakfast, and I haven’t gotten one toe-curdling, smoldering kiss from you yet.”

  Ethan laughed, throwing back his head. “I’ve wanted to kiss you, but you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length. I’ve just been waiting for permission to make my move.”

  Her expression was smug. “So you need permission?”

  “I’m old fashioned,” he responded. “These young boys just dive right in and hope they get it right. But you’ve got to know a woman wants you there before you take that leap.”

  She nodded. “So I need to let you know that I want you?”

  “That and I need to make sure the timing and the setting are absolutely perfect. It takes a lot to make sure everything’s in place so that you get toe-curdling and mind-blowing. Especially with a woman like you, Bianca Torres. You make a man work for it!”

  She laughed. “Do I really?”

  He turned to face her shifting back in his seat. “Yes, you do. You know you do!” he said emphatically.

  “Interesting,” she said, her eyes skating.

  He leaned toward her. “So, do you want me, Bianca?”

  She stared at him, scrutinizing every line in his face. His dimpled smile was engaging, the look in his eyes mesmerizing. She felt her head nodding, a slow up and down. Her answer shimmered in the dark depths of her eyes. Her voice was low, the words a whisper blowing past her lips.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I want you!”

  Ethan’s grin widened as he reached for his glass and took one last sip of his drink. He trailed his hand across her profile, the pads of his fingers teasing her nose, her lips down to the curve of her chin. He suddenly stood up, moving to the plush rug that decorated the floor in front of the fireplace. Turning back in her direction, he crooked his index finger at her, beckoning her to him.

  Bianca took a deep breath. She hesitated for a brief moment as she stared at him. The man was magnanimous and in that moment everything about the two of them together was sheer perfection. She stood up slowly, easing her way to his side. Standing before him, she gasped as he eased an arm around her waist and drew her to him, his body heated as it connected with hers. His other hand snaked across her back, to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. She suddenly felt weak, her hands clutching the front of the sweatshirt he wore.

  “What time is it?” Ethan asked as he caressed her cheek with his own, his breath warm against her ear.

  Bianca blinked, the question pulling her from the stupor she’d been falling into. “Time? What?”

  “What time is it?” he whispered again, his hand dancing across her back, teasing the round of her buttocks.

  She took a deep breath, her gaze shifting to the grandfather clock. “Almost midnight,” she whispered back, distracted back to his touch.

  Ethan muttered something incomprehensible, his words muddled in the decadent thoughts that were sweeping through her. He pulled her closer, his face nuzzled in her neck, his lips grazing her flesh as he licked a slow trail from one ear to the other. She panted, her breath coming in stilted gusts. His touch was intoxicating and she was drunk with an unfathomable desire.

  The grandfather clock suddenly chimed
, the bells ringing for the midnight hour. Ethan clasped his hand against the side of her face. She opened her eyes, shifting her gaze to meet his. His own breath was heavy, his hardened muscles twitching eagerly for attention. He licked his lips slowly, his gaze piercing.

  “Merry Christmas, Bianca,” he whispered.

  She smiled, lifting her lips into the sweetest bend. “Merry Christmas, Ethan!”

  And then he kissed her, his mouth connecting with hers in the sweetest kiss imaginable.

  The anticipation had been overwhelming, but with that first touch, his lips meeting hers for the first time, Bianca melted. The emotion that had been building and growing between them took on new life, rising like a phoenix to dispel the doubt and reservation that had previously had them both questioning the direction the relationship was headed.

  His mouth danced against hers, his lips like plush pillows, and he tasted sweet like sugared grapes and mint. His tongue was teasing, searching, searing. He drew her in, seducing her until she had no other choice but to comply, her desire raging. The intensity between them was overwhelming. Clothes were flung with abandon, and before either could say mistletoe, they were sprawled naked atop the rug in front of the fireplace. Skin kissed skin, touch was met with touch, and the kisses were abundant and sweeping.

  There was something exquisite about his touch as he teased and taunted her sensibilities. His mouth followed where his fingers led. Warm breath blew in slow, heated gusts as his tongue twirled and lapped simultaneously. The intensity of each pass of his hand was mesmerizing as he stroked and cupped her breasts, her buttocks and thighs. His caresses were slow and easy as if she were fragile, then intense, him kneading and palming every square inch of bare flesh as if he were kneading life into the sinewy muscles.

  He parted her legs easily, Bianca opening herself to him with complete abandon. There were no words to describe the intense sensations sweeping through her limbs. Her body rippled with pleasure, convulsions tensing each muscle as perspiration beaded across her brow. And then he touched her sweet spot, his fingers dancing between the delicate folds of her most precious place. Moans rang loudly through the early morning air, the sound of his breath and hers coming in perfect syncopation.

  Ethan paused, murmuring her name against her skin as he called for her to open her eyes and look at him. When she did, the reflection in his dark stare quickened her breath and had her panting heavily. She clutched his broad back, her nails digging into the dark flesh as she pulled him in, willing her body to his as if they were one and the same. She stared, every ounce of emotion shimmering in her gaze and then he entered her, his hardened lines melding easily against her soft cushion.

  He made love to her slowly, their connection the sweetest thing either had ever known. Their dance was lyrical, the perfect syncopation of low and high notes as he played her body like a finely tuned instrument. They made beautiful music together, their connection an exquisitely choreographed ballet.

  They made love until the flaming logs were nothing but slivered embers. The air in the room had cooled, but neither noticed, their bodies nicely heated. Their loving moved from the carpeted floor to the sofa, across the kitchen counter, against the stained logs that lined the hallway, and into the bedroom, where they finally fell into the bed. The sun was just beginning its ascent in a bright sky. As they finally closed their eyes, their bodies were cradled one against the other. Both smiled as they drifted off to sleep knowing that Christmas had become their new favorite holiday.

  Chapter 11

  “Aargh!” Bianca screamed, shaking her clenched fists in the air. The tow truck driver looked from her to Ethan and back.

  “This is not going to be an argument, Bianca,” Ethan said, his tone even.

  She stomped her foot, her candy-colored mouth pushed into a petulant pout, and then screamed a second time. “But, Ethan . . . !”

  Ethan shook his head, giving the driver a raised eyebrow. He grabbed Bianca’s hand and pulled her off to the side, the two of them out of the other man’s earshot. “It’s not going to happen. I’m not sending you home and catching up with you later. I have spent the last three days making love to you. It was like pulling teeth to get you to agree on a game plan for us moving forward as a couple. So I will walk you to your door and have a conversation with your parents and my good friends about our relationship.” He took a deep breath.

  “Now, you are going to get in that truck before I take you back in the house and spank that delectable behind of yours.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes and blew a loud sigh. “Promises, promises,” she muttered, making an about-face, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Ethan smacked her backside, the sting of his palm surprising her. He laughed as she spun back to stare at him, her eyes wide. Her smile pulled slowly across her face.

  She shook her index finger at him. “You don’t know me that well, Ethan. You better watch yourself.”

  He laughed heartily. “I know everything I need to know about you, Bianca! I know that I’m never letting you go and I want your family to know that,” he said as he leaned to kiss her lips, his tongue slipping past the line of her teeth.

  When he broke the connection, she stood with her eyes closed, relishing the tingle of electricity that coursed down her spine. When the sensation passed, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “It’s your funeral. I was just trying to save you from the wrath of Sharon Torres,” she said.

  Ethan laughed as they made their way to the tow truck, on which his car was anchored, and climbed inside.

  The driver gave them both a look. “So are we good to go?” the old man asked.

  “We’re great!” Bianca said as she leaned into Ethan’s side. And she meant it. It had been a perfect three days. Making love to Ethan had become the sweetest addiction that she had no intention of ever curing. He’d spent every waking moment teasing her sensibilities and making her feel special. Their time together had been priceless, the memories etched deep in her heart.

  As the driver pulled out onto the main road, Bianca tossed one quick glance to the landscape behind them, then settled her eyes on the bracelet that circled her wrist. Ethan’s homemade present had been an intricate twisting of old shoelaces, recycled ribbons and a pipe cleaner that he’d braided and knotted into a delicate arm piece. As she twisted it in a circle around her thin wrist, she knew she would cherish it for the rest of her days.

  Ethan pressed a warm kiss to her forehead, tightening his arm around her torso. The embrace was endearing, and she suddenly fought the urge to cry. They were a few short minutes from the Asheville city limits, and her perfect holiday would quickly come to a close.

  Jarrod and Stefan were in the kitchen when Bianca and Ethan finally found their way back to his home. Both men were sitting in T-shirts and boxers enjoying an afternoon meal of roast beef sandwiches, crinkled potato chips, and chilled bottles of dark beer. Jarrod jumped nervously as the duo made their way into the home, his eyes wide.

  “Merry Christmas!” Ethan chimed, Bianca echoing the sentiment. He gave his son a quick hug then extended his hand in Stefan’s direction. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Hunter! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay.”

  Stefan shook his hand excitedly. “Stefan, please, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Jarrod’s told me so much about you.”

  Jarrod still stood nervously, twisting a dish rag in his hand. Bianca shot him a look, her head moving from side to side as she introduced herself. Stefan stood to give her a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too, Bianca,” he said.

  “So, did you two have a good Christmas?” Jarrod asked, finally sitting back in his seat.

  His father nodded. “We really did. We had an amazing time actually.” He gave Bianca a quick wink.

  Bianca smiled. “Did you get to my mother’s for dinner?” she asked, shifting her attention back to her friend.

  Jarrod nodded as he and Stefan exchanged a look. “It was . . . interesting,” he said, laughin
g.

  Stefan laughed with him. “Your mother is quite the character,” he said “She was very entertaining.”

  Bianca smiled. “Has she calmed down yet?”

  Jarrod shrugged his shoulders. “You’re not off the hook, if that’s what you want to know.” He tossed his father a look. “You’re in the dog house too!”

  Ethan took a deep breath. “I was afraid of that. I guess we should just go get it over with.” He shifted his gaze to his son’s friend. “Stefan, will you be here for New Year’s? Bianca and I thought we might have a dinner party here to celebrate and exchange gifts since we weren’t around to do it Christmas Day.” He looked toward Jarrod. “What do you think, son?”

  Jarrod nodded as he and Stefan exchanged a look. Stefan’s eyebrows were raised, his gaze piercing. Jarrod took a deep breath. “Dad, there’s something . . .” he started.

  Ethan interrupted. “Maybe you could invite some of your friends. That Madison girl you used to date is home. I’m sure she has a girlfriend that she’d love to introduce to Stefan.”

  Stefan swiped a napkin across his thin lips and dropped it against his plate. His stare spoke volumes as he turned and focused his gaze on Jarrod.

  “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” Jarrod said.

  Ethan nodded. “What’s up?”

  Jarrod’s gaze shifted in Bianca’s direction, her expression encouraging. He took another deep breath.

  “I wouldn’t invite Madison or any of her friends. Stefan is already in a relationship.”

  Ethan cut his eyes to one and then the other. He looked confused. “Okay? That’s fine. You say that like there’s a problem?”

  Jarrod sucked in a second gust of oxygen. He held it briefly before blowing it back out. “Dad, I’m gay and Stefan is my boyfriend. He and I are in a relationship with each other.”

  The silence that dropped over the space was suddenly palpable, the air so thick you could have sliced and diced it.

  Stefan interjected. “I really love your son, Mr. Christmas. Jarrod is my best friend and we’re really happy together. And since we’ve been living together . . .”