Waiting in Vain
Page 4
Because that’s code, too. It’s code for next year, I want to do everything that we’ve just done, again. Only sooner. Christmas Eve morning, if possible. The moment I walk in the door. Right now.
I want it right now, just because looking at you stood in the doorway with your hands in your pockets makes me ache.
He laughs, and I know exactly what that laugh means. It’s blissful and incredulous and it turns what he says next into something that’s code for I’m going to be seeing you tomorrow.
“Why wait?” he says.
Epilogue
I’d forgotten how long the drive is to the Hennessey’s home. Or maybe it just seems like a long time, when I’ve got someone next to me who needs immediate attention.
And by attention, I of course mean a head to toe licking, stat.
He gives me that look—the one that says, I’ve already had great big long licks of him, not an hour earlier. Can’t I be patient? Can’t I wait?
But of course I can’t wait. I’ve had Mick Hennessey for an entire year, and I still can’t wait more than ten seconds to devour him, the moment he walks into any room—something which he’s used to his advantage, on more than one occasion.
He uses it when I’m least expecting it, always. He’ll turn up at work, just when I’m meant to be on my best behaviour. He’ll catch me as I’m walking home along leafy lanes, or as I’m just saying goodbye to a friend somewhere very public, indeed.
Mick Hennessey loves those three words—very public, indeed. I have to say it’s been a wonderful twelve months, finding that very thing out. And I don’t know why it’s a surprise, when he tells me I’m about to find out some more.
“Think you can behave yourself?” he asks, and I thrill for two reasons. The first is that I know I can’t, and the second comes because he knows I know I can’t.
I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone long enough to have all that knowing tangling us together, but it’s definitely there. Things can actually go unsaid. We have codes, secret codes, and they’re as delicious as they are wicked.
“Of course I can,” I say, and wait for him to prove that he understands I’m lying. He doesn’t disappoint.
“A whole three days of Christmas fun,” he sighs. “All that unwrapping and eating sticky things and squeezing past each other in hallways...”
“Christmas is not sexy. Christmas is twee and polite and nice. I can cope.”
“...and then there’s all those cold draughty rooms, just waiting to be snuck into. All that silence everywhere.”
“Your Gran in the next room, listening to every word we murmur.”
“And she will be listening, now, ‘cause she knows we’re together. She’ll be waiting for me to sneak my way into your bed and do sinful things, before we’re married.”
I shrug, and glance at my nails.
“What do I care? I have to put up with you forever, now. I can last a few days, easily.”
I catch his grin, though I’m sure he thinks I haven’t.
“Forever, huh?” he says, but he knows what I’m thinking of. My initials at the centre of his labyrinth. That ring he thinks I don’t know about, in his crappily packed suitcase. His hand on my thigh, so high up that I’m already melting.
I sigh, theatrically.
“Or until I get bored, of course.”
His hand moves higher on my thigh. I’m not sure there’s much more leg for him to uncover, but if there is, he’ll find it. He always finds it—the right spot, the echo of sweet memories, the chill of something we shouldn’t be doing.
“You really think you’re going to get bored of me?”
My heart drops a little when I realise there’s a hint of actually asking in his voice, something in him that really wonders if I’ll ever get tired of him. How he could ever think such a thing, I don’t know. If I had a labyrinth on my arm, I’d put him at the middle of it.
But it’s okay, because I don’t need to do that. I know exactly what I’m going to do, to show him that I love him as deeply as he seems to love me.
“Wait until we get to the dining room table,” I say, before letting my hand rest ever so lightly, on his upper thigh.
About the Author
Charlotte Stein has been published in numerous erotic and erotic romance anthologies, and has written her own longer length works for both Black Lace books and Total-E-Bound. She has been writing for more than half her life, but only recently worked up the courage to submit something to actual publishers. Thankfully, the story ended well.
Email: charlotte_stein@hotmail.co.uk
Charlotte loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
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