by Antoinette
The gates opened and both cars went deep onto the estate grounds. As they walked inside together, she said a special thanks in her mind to her granny for her excellent taste, especially the beauty and openness of the rooms. She felt so free, so safe and comfortable here, and Deacon made it complete. She fixed him a cup of coffee and they sat in the breakfast room, sipping and talking.
“I remember our trip to Paris, and how surprised I was to see you next to me on the plane.”
“I knew I was going, but wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Now we are members of the mile-high club. You just about drove me nuts, the way you teased me, and then the wonderful orgasm I had was worth every minute I had to wait.”
“You know, London, I have never found anybody like you, we are very good together.”
“I think so.” She smiled and drank some of her hot brew. “I will never forget the sex we had on the bridge in Paris, I knew it was you . . . the aftershave gave you away.”
“Hum, maybe I should change my aftershave.”
“Don’t you dare.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I also so enjoyed our encounter at the Château in Versailles. I wonder if Marie Antoinette had sex in the tunnels behind her room?” Deacon smiled. “Well, we have great memories, and they are only beginning.” London felt so close to him, closer than she had ever let herself feel about any man. He reached across the table and touched her hand and she felt chills go up her spine in a new and tender way. She touched his hand and placed her fingers on top of his, feeling his warmth. She touched in between his fingers as he smiled and did the same to her. She felt a stirring as she got up, took his hand, and led him to the family room.
“May I?” he asked, pointing to the fireplace.
She nodded as he knelt down to light it. The entire wall in front of the fireplace was glass windows that overlooked the backyard and the secluded wooded acreage behind it. She enjoyed her privacy and even demanded it. It was part of who she was.
She was sitting on the bamboo love seat in the family room when he came over to her. He stood in front of her and pulled her to her feet. He put his arms around her, touching her face as he pulled her close. He rubbed her back and worked his way around to her front, where the rise and fall of her breasts competed with his deep breathing. He kissed her on the mouth so softly, then all of a sudden he pulled her to him tighter, holding her so close she could hardly breathe. He clung to her this way for a few minutes, catching his breath. She heard whimpers come from deep within his throat. Sounds of passion—his and her needs and wants. She danced him over to the stereo system and pushed a button. The house filled with the romantic sounds of Frank Sinatra. He held her close as they swayed to the music, his lips finding hers as they exchanged kisses and nibbles. They looked out the windows and watched the snow falling silently on the deck that overlooked the yard.
He was so tender and intimate with her now, a quality that he had never shown her before during other sexual interactions. He pulled off her sweater and began kissing her bare spots, holding her close, nibbling on her ear. When her bra finally fell to the floor, he kissed her nipples, cupping them in his hands. He kept his eyes closed the whole time, as if his mind were elsewhere and he was reliving a moment from the past. The hardness of her nipples filled his mouth, as her head moved back in awe of his talents and the wonder of this magic he worked on her. Her head spun as he laid her down on the sofa. His kisses were so full of longing and love that it took her to an unfamiliar place.
Normally the kisses she received were full of angry lust and desperate passion, but this time they were full of tenderness. She could feel his longing for a lost love. The thought made her shudder for a second and she choked back her tears, knowing that she had never had that kind of love. She had never allowed herself to feel that kind of intense feeling. In that moment, she finally began to realize the true difference between having sex and making love. She envied the relationship between this man and the woman he’d lost, and she hoped she could fill the emptiness he was feeling. She touched his hair, kissed his neck, and touched his lips with hers. He pulled her to him and kissed her so deeply it took her breath away. She felt feelings from her toes all the way to her nose. What a wonderful moment she was experiencing. She prayed he would not open up his eyes and see she was not the woman he thought he was making love to. For once in her life, she wanted to be her.
He finished undressing her and kissing her tenderly, touching her tummy, her softness, her passion place, and finally her sex. He inserted his finger into her as she moaned softly, then he took it out and touched her button, moving his mouth down to that spot and taking advantage of it. He opened her lips farther as he put his tongue deep inside her, searching for all the right places. He knew how to make great love and she was more than grateful for this moment in time. He felt her passion build as he took off his clothes and his hardness was right beside her. She wondered if it would shock him if she took it in her mouth. She had done this before successfully, but this type of lovemaking was different and foreign to her. He was reliving a memory and she wondered if the woman he was thinking of had done those types of things for him. Would it be out of character for her to take him and suck on him? She didn’t want to spoil this moment for him. His eyes were still closed as he came closer to her.
“Take me,” he asked.
She gladly licked his precum as he moaned and he slid beside her in her favorite position. They played with each other, his face buried in her sex and his hardness in her mouth. She enjoyed his hardness and the wonder of this man as he pulled himself out of her mouth and slid on top of her. He opened her legs wide for his deep penetration and pulled her down to him. She eased back onto the sofa as he entered her. Much to her surprise, he filled her and then some. He pumped into her slowly and then pulled her ass higher as he went deeper into her. She felt herself starting to come as he kept pumping into her, faster, deeper, and harder. She was no longer in this world but floating around in some incredible void, full of passion, with the feeling that she was about to climax at any moment.
“Oh God, I’m coming!” she yelled, and he dropped on top of her. His passion was spent and replaced by their juices flowing out of them onto the tiled floor. He pulled her to him and held her close as she lay in his arms. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his warmth and comfort.
After a few minutes, she leaned up on her elbow to look down at his face. His eyes were closed with his eyelashes resting on his cheekbones. She felt his warmness cover her body. She’d had many men, but never felt this way about any of them. Her heart fluttered something new . . . something more than before. Her body trembled and shivered as she was overcome by her love for this man. She snuggled back into his body, tugging a blanket over them from the back of the sofa. She watched the flames flickering and dancing across the walls, and the snow falling outside as she drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Chapter 10
DESIRABLE HOLIDAY TREATS
The next morning, she awoke on the sofa and Deacon was gone again. He did leave a note on the coffee table beside her: TIME FOR WORK. I’LL BE MISSING YOU. SEE YOU SOON. LOVE, DEACON. She smiled as she held the message and savored the scent of him that still lingered in the air and on her body. She knew he had to go out of town for a few days on business to finalize some legal matters before the holiday break on the weekend. The following Saturday was Christmas Eve and she hoped to celebrate with him. It was going to be a long week without him, but she planned to keep herself very busy somehow.
This being a Friday, she thought about how nice it would be to sleep in and not race to the office every morning. She had enjoyed applying her exceptional skills and knowledge each workday, but she was certain she would enjoy early retirement just as much, if not more. She knew her grandmother’s estate would keep her comfortable for the rest of her life. She also understood that Deacon would continue to work for a living, not only for income but for the sake of his pride. He would never consider joining her in ear
ly retirement. Even though she could take care of him, she wouldn’t even suggest the idea for fear of offending him, but she missed him and wished he could spend his days with her.
The day was terribly boring already, but her mind was working overtime to conjure up many tasks and activities to make her time without him eventful. She logged on to the laptop and started an agenda, a list of things she would accomplish before Deacon’s return later next week: haircut, manicure and pedicure, decorating, gift shopping, fun in the snow, time with friends.
She logged on to see what some of her friends were doing today, and to see if they had holiday plans scheduled for the upcoming week. After her recent interlude with Max, she had joined a social network, and before she knew it she had linked up with hundreds of her old friends from high school and college. She chatted with a few girls whom she had been close to years ago, including her good friend Jen. Finally, Paris got online. Together, the group chatted and everyone seemed to be in the same rut of boredom, and they were lacking holiday cheer.
“Let’s have a party!” Paris suggested.
“Yes, how about my place next Friday night at eight o’clock?” London offered. “And be sure to bring your significant others!”
Everyone agreed and she was suddenly overcome with excitement. She knew that despite their busy holiday schedules, her friends would never miss a gala event put on by London Shelby, as it would certainly give their holiday spirits a boost.
“Do you have someone special, London?” Paris inquired.
“I sure do!” London replied, smiling to herself as she thought of Deacon. She couldn’t wait to show him off to her friends and hoped that he could make it. She typed a quick email inviting him to the party. She knew that he would check emails while he was away and she hoped he would reply soon. She then jumped on the phone to call her personal friend Jon, a master chef and culinary artist who owned a classy catering company. She knew he would drop everything to accommodate her party, even if it was last-minute.
“London! It’s so good to hear from you, darling!” Jon was bursting with excitement to hear her voice. “Oh! A party, a holiday party! I have a full staff for the upcoming week and we can certainly be there for you, my dear.”
He was ecstatic and London could hear his fingers snapping as he called his staff to attention. He immediately lined up servers and a bartender, then reviewed menu choices with her. She selected grilled shrimp skewers, succulent lamb kebabs, roasted asparagus, vine-ripened tomatoes with pesto, along with a variety of other veggies, fruits, cheeses, snacks, and desserts. Jon had two large fondues that he offered to bring along, one for cheese for the appetizers and another for chocolate, which would be perfect with the fruits and desserts. He also suggested some fine aged wines from a local vineyard, along with eggnog and other warm, festive holiday drinks. He assured her that everything would be informal but classy, casual yet chic. She agreed to leave the rest up to his culinary expertise.
“Now, do you have a decorator helping you with the arrangements, London?” Jon asked.
“No, I was planning to handle that myself,” she replied.
“Oh dear, well, I must come and help you this week. How about Tuesday? I’ll bring a few suggestions and I can have a Christmas tree delivered that day. Nothing like the fresh scent of a real tree for the holiday!”
“That sounds great. I haven’t had a real tree since . . .” Her voice caught. “Well, since Grams was still here.”
“Oh, bless her soul, and yours. You’re going to have a real tree again this year, dear. It’s going to be a fabulous holiday,” he squealed, his exhilaration radiating through the phone.
“Thank you so much, Jon. I can always count on you. I can’t wait to see you Tuesday.”
London hung up and zipped around the house, tidying up, planning, and thinking about the decorations, the food, and Christmas. She loved Christmas, her favorite time of the year, which made her feel like a child again. Even at her age, she still listened for reindeer hooves on the rooftop until she fell asleep on Christmas Eve, and she visited Santa Claus every year. Normally, she would have done so the day after Thanksgiving, but she hadn’t made it there yet this year. She made it a point to visit him by Christmas Eve next weekend at the latest.
The phone rang. London hoped for Deacon, but it was Paris.
“I know I’ll be seeing you next weekend for the party, but I’ve got a couple days off this weekend. How about we spend some time together like the old days?” Paris proposed.
“That sounds like fun!” London went over her list with Paris and they were on the same page. They decided to spend the next morning cross-country skiing, followed by an afternoon at the spa, indulging themselves, and they would top the night off with cocktails and dancing at the club. Sunday, if they were up to it, they would enjoy some holiday shopping together.
Saturday was eventful and flew right by. London was thrilled to have Paris to pass the time with. It was Sunday already and their shopping excursion was delightful in the hustle and bustle of downtown. They focused on a few gifts, then splurged on sexy lingerie. They modeled for each other in the fitting rooms as they tried on each outfit. London finally decided upon the traditional red lace teddy for Christmas, and a racy black ensemble for New Year’s Eve. She insisted on treating Paris to some lavish purchases, and Paris reluctantly gave in.
Tarrytown was alive with the sounds and smells of the season. Roasted almonds and Brazilian coffee permeated the air, luring them in for a snack. Bells were ringing on the street corners and storefronts. With each Santa Claus she encountered, London would discreetly slip them a hundred-dollar bill, much to their surprise. She couldn’t wait to sit on Santa’s lap at Midtown Mall. She was certain he was the real deal. But they couldn’t make it there today as Paris had to get going. London still planned to return to finalize her shopping on Christmas Eve. She had a special gift in mind for Deacon.
Before she knew it, Tuesday arrived. The Christmas tree was delivered and set up on the stand by two handsome, burly, cheerful men whom she tipped generously on their way out. Jon arrived just after with bundles of linens, holiday décor, and big ideas to help London spruce up the château for the big party. He was such a whirlwind when he entered the room and she was delighted to finally see him again. They went up to the attic together to retrieve Grams’s decorations for the tree. As they carried the boxes down, London found herself emotional, teary-eyed, and missing her grandmother. The fragrance of the real pine tree really took her back in time. Jon noticed she was misty and hurried to the threshold of the family room to hang the mistletoe, then dragged her over and gave her a peck on the cheek to cheer her up. She giggled and cheered up as she chuckled to herself. We’re both lucky that Jon’s gay because he’s so handsome and adorable that I might enjoy more than decorating with him. She snickered at the thought.
The two of them spent the day decorating and chatting. Between hanging ribbons, bows, ornaments, and glittery décor, she told him all about Deacon. It felt so good to share her story with someone. Jon understood how London had been raised. He knew Grams well and knew of the wild lifestyles both women had led. He was glad to see London beginning to settle down with one man. Although he hadn’t yet found his significant other, Jon was still playing the field.
Soon everything glistened with gold and silver everywhere. The decorations twinkled and warmth filled the house. They savored some divine chicken noodle soup and sandwiches together that Jon had brought along, and he whipped up some hot chocolate with whipped cream for a sweet treat afterward.
“Okay, young lady, bundle up, because we’re heading outside to spice things up a little!” Jon said as he hustled London along. They started on the back deck, clearing snow from the outdoor stone fireplace and grill area, where he would be cooking for the party. Jon wanted the space to have some ambience, so he had brought along strings of white Christmas lights to drape around the deck and he planned to have the fires going inside and out that evening.
/> Then they made their way down into the yard, stringing more lights around several small pines scattered here and there, in front and back and up and down the driveway. When they were finally through they returned to the backyard, where Jon dropped into the snow and started making a snow angel. London laughed and joined in. After a few minutes, Jon got up and walked behind her, and to her surprise, a snowball landed on her chest, spraying snow into her face. She screamed and jumped up. The battle had begun as they packed snowballs and chased each other through the yard, dodging, throwing, and laughing until they both fell into the snow again, exhausted.
“Let’s build a snowman before I go. Right here, where he will be visible from the deck,” Jon suggested.
“How about you build the man, and I’ll build the woman?” London replied.
“Sounds perfect.” He grinned.
They set to work rolling and packing the snow, building their snow couple together as London reminisced. She told Jon a story of doing this very same thing with Grams back when she was just twelve years old. Grams built the snowman, and she built the snowwoman. Grams had been chatting about things unknown to London that afternoon, trying to explain the birds and the bees to her. When London turned around, she noticed that Grams had put male parts on her snowman. They laughed hysterically and proceeded to add the female parts to the snowwoman together.
“Let’s keep our snow couple PG-rated today, okay, Jon?” London laughed.
“Or I was thinking we could just have two snowmen to be politically correct.” Jon chuckled with one hand on his hip.