Her mind had finally shut off and she was able to think clearly again after going over every possible scenario she could think up. The fact still remained. He was her husband and she loved him. She had a new determination to prove to him that she could be the only woman in his life and heart. All she had to do was get him to open up and allow her to show him. He was hers and she would fight for him. If only this stupid weather would clear! The clinic and the courthouse had been shut down due to the heavy snowfall and even the main roads were impassable. They were stuck, but she had a plan.
He was sitting at the breakfast table, still reading his paper while he sipped his morning coffee when she slipped away. She returned a few minutes later with a folded quilt and a small trunk. She placed them both on the floor as he glanced up to watch her. She knew his eyes were on her as she closed the French doors that separated the kitchen from the main rooms and closed the thin curtains, blocking out the view of anything but the soft glow of the scented candles that adorned kitchen. His brow was arched now, but he said nothing and she pretended to not notice as she slipped out of her pajamas.
“Doll? What are you doing?” he said, half curious and half amused.
She winked playfully at him, walking to where he sat. She reached down and picked up his half empty mug and took a long drink, keeping her glittering blue eyes on his. “What does it look like?” she challenged.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It looks like my wife may have fallen and hit her head. What's all this about?” he asked, motioning to the items on the floor and then to the tightly closed curtains.
“We're going to stay in this room until the weather breaks. And. We're going to be nude,” she declared before adding. “Strip. It's your turn.”
He blinked several times, wearing a look of complete shock. “What? What the fuck are you on?”
She laughed and extended a finger, tracing the hard line of his jaw as she cooed, “It's called imagination and if you don't have one, I suggest you get one.” If he only knew. Her little drill was more than just boredom. She was going to force him to think outside of his carefully constructed plans.
She figured this was worth a shot and something told her, he would go along with it, even if nothing more than for his own curiosity. She didn't need him to hurt her or to be rough with her, but she did need him to try new things with her and she was determined to show him that she wasn't afraid of him. One way or the other, their sex would never be boring again. She cleared her throat impatiently as she waited for him to lose the silk pajama pants he wore. “I can get the kitchen shears if you'd like some help,” she smirked.
“What is the point of this? We're supposed to just sit here nude in the kitchen for however many days this goes on?” he sputtered.
“You're stalling. And yes.”
He shook his head and began to untie the loops that secured his bottoms in place, allowing them to fall haplessly over his hips. She grasped the string and gave them a yank, causing them to fall to the floor at his feet. “That's better.”
“So what are we supposed to do in our delightful little prison?” he asked sardonically.
She shrugged. “Use your imagination.”
He looked around, probably trying to find a place to hide. “And what if I need to, you know,” he questioned.
“Oh, you can have a two minute pass if you need to tinkle. But, no cheating.”
He scoffed, “Tinkle? I'm a man. Men don't tinkle. We take leaks, we piss but we do not tinkle.”
She couldn't believe how easy it was to get him to agree to this ridiculous scheme. She was feeling confident and couldn't wait to spend the day with him in this room. He refilled his coffee and leaned his large frame against the counter as he considered her. “You going to show me what's in the treasure chest over there?” he said, pointing.
“Of course!” she said, already coming to kneel beside it. She reached in and pulled out three board games, ink pens, and some paper for keeping scores.
“Scrabble? Wait, now I can get with some scrabble. And I'll kick your ass at it,” he grinned.
And Scrabble it was. They played until afternoon, rearranging words and letters, each trying to outdo the other, even throwing in dirty words for good measure now and again. He seemed to have finally come to terms with being stuck in the kitchen with her and they had forgotten all about the world outside.
They had a lunch break, sharing fresh cut vegetables from a platter and hunks of meat and cheese. By the time evening rolled around, neither of them was ready for the day to end. He helped her make a meatloaf for dinner and even playfully swatted her bottom as she passed by on her way to set the table. Her plan was working perfectly.
She pulled the worn out old apron from the drawer and gracefully slid it over her head. The long strings wrapped around her waist, meeting in the back as she tied them into a small bow. Humming to herself, she began to rummage through the cabinets, pulling out all the essential ingredients to bake his favorite cake. After preheating the oven, she went to collect the utensils she would use, shoving them into the deep pockets of the covering. He sat perched comfortably on the island, watching her as she worked.
She carefully combined each ingredient, intentionally skipping the two eggs, leaving them to sit in a small dish as she whisked and folded the mixture. She raised the metal instrument, allowing the batter to drizzle back into the bowl, removing the excess as she gave him a heated grin. “Taste?” she offered playfully, bringing the utensil to his lips. He raised a brow and began to slide his tongue along the chocolate covered tool, keeping his eyes locked firmly onto hers as he swirled his tongue through the thin metal wires. She felt the heat rush between her thighs as she watched him, wide eyed. She began to wonder who was trying to seduce whom.
She pulled the whisk away from his tongue, and brought it to her own, repeating his motions on the other side, letting the sugary mix pool against her tongue. When she turned and walked back to the counter, she could feel his eyes on her and she knew she had his full attention. With a last glance over her shoulder, she turned and hopped up onto the cabinet. She pulled her legs up, allowing her feet to catch the edge of the granite and seductively spread her legs wide. She dipped the whisk back into the mix, coating it with the thickening chocolate.
Her breath caught as she felt the first of the cool drips land against her sex, as her eyes dared him to come to her. When he didn't immediately move, she drew back the whisk and landed a smack against her sensitive button. He swallowed roughly, rasping out, “Fuck.”
“Yeah?” she asked, seductively as she raked the metal over her folds, catching the small bud between the wires and dragging it along. A soft moan escaped her lips as the erotic motions fueled the longing desire.
She saw the exact second his eyes went dark. Almost instantly, he was standing in front of her. Her pulse was racing as he grabbed her hips, pinning her in place as he kissed her. He rained tiny kisses over her face and throat, and moving lower. She cupped her small breast in one hand and smacked it firmly with the coated instrument before giving it a fling. She brought the pebbled nipple to his mouth in offering. He sucked the tight peak into his mouth, drinking heavily as his strangled groan vibrated against her flesh. Her legs began tremble to as raw need consumed her. “Judas, please,” she begged.
Her breast fell from his lips as a deft hand moved to replace the sensation, tugging and releasing in a slow rhythm. He massaged her breast, leaving his free hand to hold her thigh, steadying her as he lowered himself to one knee. He kissed a slow, calculated trail up her inner thigh, ending just before the crease of her leg. Unable to control herself another second, she brought her hands to his hair, gripping firmly as she pushed his face into her chocolate coated folds. He moaned deep and guttural her as she immediately began to rock her hips, matching the swift motion of his tongue as he cleaned her. She was aching and near madness now, her nails biting against his scalp in a desperate demand.
He finally stood, pressing his foreh
ead to hers as he took her hands, guiding them to his length expectantly. She instinctively knew what he wanted. She flattened her palm, placing it against his hip while the fingers of her free hand wrapped around his shaft, guiding him to her opening. She left two strokes against his length before moving her hand to his other hip and pulling him inside of her. She heard his breath stop as he held it, taking control from her as he pushed deeper into her slick, hot depths. They both began to rock in unison, as her walls encased him, milking and massaging him as she hardened her grip, urgently dragging him into her again and again.
Somewhere in time, his breaths returned, coming in ragged, heated pants against her cheek. He slowed the pace, working in a circular motion, meant only for her pleasure. She shattered against the blissful assault, lowering her head to his shoulder as she bit into the dew covered flesh, crying out her release as her body shuddered in delight.
He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him as he pushed deep inside for the last time before the waves of his own release began to batter him. When it was over, he lifted her from the heated granite and lowered her to his lap on the floor. They sat there recovering their senses for several long minutes before either of them moved an inch.
She took the cake out of the oven and turned on some soft music. “Care to dance?”
“I'd love to,” he smiled, taking her hand. They danced alone in their kitchen for several slow songs, not breaking the intimate promenade as they talked. “Thank you for doing this with me,” she whispered against his ear as they swayed in perfect sync. “I was afraid you would think I was insane for suggesting it.”
“I do think you're insane but I wouldn't have missed this for anything,” he told her, and he meant it. They had needed this time and he was happy to humor her.
There was something magical in her spontaneity and he was fairly certain he'd have sawed off his arm if she had asked him to do so in her special dulcet lilt. He found it strange that even when she was angry, he didn't have it in him to refuse her a simple request. When the pressure was off of him, he could relax and enjoy their time and it had been weeks since their last fight. He knew the subject would eventually rear its ugly head again but for now, things were good. Every game of Scrabble he had let her win had made her smile and made it all worth it to him. He loved her. Liked. No, enjoyed. He groaned. Whatever.
The intimacy they had shared today was a turning point for him. He felt her breasts press against his ribs as they swayed, ignoring the familiar ache that stirred against her navel. He knew he would take her again before the day was over. It had finally hit him that he didn't have to be rough with her for their lovemaking to be exciting. He couldn't help but wonder if this whole scheme had been a set-up, but at this point, he really didn't care if it was. If she staged this to teach him, then she had executed her plan brilliantly.
When the cake was finished cooling, she had to break the dance, but he was just as happy watching her as she dipped the rubber spatula into the tub of frosting and began to swirl it onto the dessert. She hummed softly as she worked, coating the entire cake, leaving nothing of the sugary mixture behind. He swiped his finger across the cake to taste and she swatted his hand. “Stop that! It's not ready yet!” she protested. Instead of licking the frosting from his finger, he smirked playfully and then dabbed her nose in response to the girly swat. “Oh, no you didn't!” she shrieked, reaching into the bowl to grab a handful of the goo. She flung it right at him, splattering it from his face to his chest and they both roared with laughter.
He wasn't about to let her get away with it. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her beautifully decorated cake and attempted to shove it in her mouth, crumbling it all over her face. She answered him in kind, and within minutes both of them and the entire kitchen were covered in both cake and the frosting. They were still laughing when he finally waved the white flag. “Truce!” he yelped, dodging another glob.
“Chicken!” she giggled.
He shrugged, “Maybe so but you started it.” He stuck out his tongue for good measure.
They both sobered, looking around at the mess they had made. “So, who's cleaning this up?” she asked sweetly.
“We both are. And then, we're going to go shower. Together.” he stated matter-of-factly.
They spent the next forty minutes cleaning their mess and then headed for the shower. She brought the water to steaming before she slipped in, and began to rinse the globs of frosting away. He stepped in behind her and did the same, using another of the four shower heads that rained from the corners of the stall. He was watching her through the foggy haze, as he lathered the cloth and began to wash her with it.
He knelt in front of her, lifting her foot to rest on his knee, giving him range to wash every inch of her soft leg. She raised her arms, clinging to the neck of the shower head as she allowed him to clean her. He looked up, taking in the view of her hanging there, causing searing heat to radiate out from deep in his belly.
How this creature had managed to be both innocent and wonton at the same time, he had no idea but his dick was hard again now and he wanted her. He slipped his arms through her parted legs, gripping her bottom to secure her in place. She was still clinging to the shower head when he stood, leaving her pinned securely to the wall.
His mouth crashed against hers as he drove himself deep within her. He took her as the water rained down over them both, refusing to stop until they were both spent and breathless against the shower wall. They slept in the kitchen that night, curled up with the soft blanket and though neither were comfortable, neither complained. He hoped the snow never cleared.
CHAPTER tEN
Once the roads were clear again and most of the snow had finally melted, they went pick out their tree. They hiked the hills, pouring over every tree on the farm looking for the perfect one. She had picked a fat, round one with bristly branches that jutted out in all directions. The trunk appeared to be leaning, but though he thought it was hideous, he cut it down. The tag attached labeled it "Fraser Fir" and he thought it should have read "Reserved for Charlie Brown".
“This tree is terrible. How do you expect ornaments to even hang on a sideways tree?” he asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
“It's not sideways, Judas. It's crooked,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm.
He shook his head, “There's a difference?”
“Yes.” She glared, warning him to drop it.
Had the attendant not been in earshot, he would have told her how sexy that look was and that it didn't scare him. He grumbled to himself and began to drag the heavy thing back down the path.
He threw the snow covered mess in the back of his pick-up truck and took her for hot cocoa on the way home at a little cafe, where carolers had gathered on the corner. They listened to several songs and at the end, he was beginning to get into the Christmas Spirit. Somewhere along the way, he had even forgiven her stupid tree for being so ugly. If he allowed himself, he might even decide to like it. Nah. It could live with them but he still wasn't going to claim it. It made her happy and that's all he cared about.
They decorated the tree in white and blue glitter snowflake ornaments that sparkled against multi-colored, twinkling lights. The garland was a single strand of popcorn that they had strung only the night before. It had been a pain in the ass but neither of them complained. She placed a glass angel atop the crooked display and surrounded it with several gifts that had already been wrapped.
"Looks good, doll." he said as he held her against him on the sofa. “But why did you have to have the shitty one?”
"It's not shitty, Judas. It suits us. Just a little off." she laughed, looking up at him.
He pondered her words for a moment before finally relenting. "You're right. It does."
"Can I ask you something?" Her tone turned serious, but still soft.
"Sure, doll." God, how he hated that question.
"Do you love me?" She asked, not turning her head to face him.
He should have seen that coming. "I care about you. I want you. I need you. I'm happy with what we are. But love, I can't love anyone. Best I got." He had told her the truth, hadn't he? Love wasn't for people like him.
She said nothing for a long moment and then finally asked "So you don't love her either?"
"Who?" he asked but then gave up the charade. "No, I don't,” he answered honestly but she wasn't convinced. This was going downhill quick.
"Are you sure?" she asked, finally turning her face to meet his emerald gaze.
He nodded, tightening his arms around her. "Yes, I'm sure. There is no one closer to me than you."
"I believe you,” she said, but there was a sudden sadness in her voice and it stung to know he had caused it.
"I know you're in love with me, Adessa." It was a bold statement but he knew it was true.
"I am," she whispered.
His heart skipped a beat as she confirmed his words. "Why have you never told me?"
"Because I was afraid you would reject me,” she said, picking at the fibers of her knitted sweater.
He blinked, "Reject you? You're my wife, doll. I have already accepted you."
"But you have already accepted someone else. Someone I don't even know.” There was no bitterness to her words, only sadness and he wished he could crawl in a hole.
It was the reassurance issue again. "You are my priority. No one, but you."
"There is so much I don't understand, Judas. It scares me."
He tried to imagine himself in her shoes but his mind was reeling from the line of questioning. He felt like he was being interrogated, even though he knew that was not her intent. He was grasping for patience now as he took in a long, slow breath and exhaled. "Believe me, if I could explain it to you, I would."
Judas Page 8