A Christmas Storm

by Elle Harte

  Still kissing, his hand traveled inside my shorts. His touch was light, tender. But the feeling was close to what I figured being in heaven felt. I tried to pull closer to him, trying to hide myself in him. He stopped and looked at me with the same desire in his eyes I had come to love. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  And that just made him the sweetest guy in the world as far as I was concerned. I knew he would never force me into anything, that he would always be careful. Loving. Protective. I couldn’t think of a better person to do this with, so I told him I was ready. Not that I wasn’t still conflicted, but I guess that’s something you’re always conflicted about. But I wanted it to be him. I wanted this perfect moment to become even more perfect. I wanted this to be important in our history, and it was.

  He lowered himself on the bed, and carefully took off my shorts. Okay, so I did freak out at that point but I didn’t stop him. When he gently pried me apart, I was already wet. When his tongue started working its magic, I wasn’t even on this planet. I had no idea sex could be this good, this pleasurable. He was showing me a world I had never seen before, that for all intents and purposes I had assumed would remain unseen. I was scared. Afraid something would come and take this away from me, afraid something would go wrong, but as he continued to give me pleasure in that way those fears started taking a backseat.

  When he came up again and kissed me, he had a condom and tore the wrapper using his teeth. I helped put it on him, and we kissed again. This time he got on top and I remember the way it felt, being surrounded by him, feeling his weight on me. I felt so small, tiny. I felt protected. He intertwined his fingers with mine, and his grip was tight as he entered me. I felt fear raising its ugly head again, but I felt better when I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. I still had reservations. But the way he had fired me up, I was wet enough to feel a slight pain and then it was fine. All the horror stories I’d heard about first times, weren’t true. Either that or it was the way Callum progressed, that made things different.

  And then, the moment came where I felt Callum’s breathing get heavier. He was grunting, his grip on my hands was tighter, and he started moving at a faster pace. I felt something too, something building inside me, a pressure, pleasure that was ten times more than what I had felt until now, all of that, building and growing and mounting, the feeling of him inside me, surrounding me, on top of me—

  “Callum!!”

  My body was shaking, and I had to grab onto him.

  We were sweating, pressed into each other. His head resting on my chest. He pulled out. Kissed me on the forehead and then on my chin. I was still trying to catch my breath, when he smiled. “Was it everything you hoped it was?”

  “It was much more.”

  He kissed my hand. “I’m glad.”

  “Can we just stay like this for a while?”

  “Uh…”

  I felt embarrassed. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No! That’s not what I meant,” he said. “It’s just, I got a condom sticking to my dick.”

  That made me laugh. “You’re an ass!”

  He grinned. “Did I ruin the moment?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing me lightly. “We’ll have plenty more.”

  Destiny Has a Sense of Humor

  There was a chill in the room when I woke up the next morning and saw the time on the radio clock on the nightstand. It was nine and I had to get to the store. So, I headed straight to the kitchen, as always and made a fresh pot of coffee. Then, I headed to the bathroom so I could spend some time in the tub. I took off my clothes, set them aside and ran hot water. I yawned and sleepily walked over to the sink to brush my teeth. As I lazily squeezed paste on my brush, I noticed the figure behind me.

  I screamed.

  He screamed.

  He turned around and I grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and covered myself with it. “What the hell, Callum!”

  Oh, God, I had forgotten about him, I had forgotten about him, what the hell!

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Shit! I was half-asleep!”

  “So was I!”

  “Clearly,” he scoffed.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Can I turn around? Is it safe?”

  I tightened the towel around my chest. “Yes.”

  He slowly made the turn but he continued to hide from my gaze. I did the same, so maybe I’d just have to avoid him for a little bit longer. “I’m sorry!”

  “Are you done now? Can I take a fucking bath in my own house in peace now?”

  Callum zipped up his jeans, and no, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the woman hiding inside me. Not just because he was bulging down there, but also because, well, with Callum my brain tends to notice everything. Would I have preferred not to see him that way first thing in the morning? Yes. Would I have preferred for him to not see me that way? A firm absolutely. Callum seemed to be walking up to me. He was literally inches away when I felt his gaze falling further down my neck. Way, way, down. Did it make me blush? Yes. Did it make him blush? No. He managed to look a little smug. “For what it’s worth, you’re still smoking hot.”

  He said this and bumped into me a little before heading out the door.

  “Fuck you, Callum!”

  I could feel him grinning his ass off.

  ***

  I came out in a bathrobe and entered the kitchen to get some much-needed caffeine, but Callum was already there and he was making us both breakfast. There was a beaker of batter of some kind, and something on the skillet.

  “French Toast,” Callum announced, as though I wouldn’t be able to put it all together. “You like that, don’t you?”

  Yes, Callum I like French Toast! I just don’t like you making it for me in my kitchen. But I had no choice. He was there and I was going to have to be patient. It wasn’t as though he was here for eternity. After breakfast, he must leave. If he doesn’t, I’ll kick him out myself. The toast is made and Callum placed mine in front of me. I get more coffee and we sit at the bar and eat. “Wow, this is actually good.”

  It’s surprising because I knew he was never good at this sort of thing. “Well, I learned from the best.”

  “You mean me, don’t you?”

  “When you left, I had no one to take care of me. I started missing your food, so I did what I could with what you taught me. I worked on it, until I was better.”

  “And how many girls have you impressed so far with this tactic?”

  The tension in the room was a live wire, that neither one of us was willing to touch. I couldn’t believe I just said that. What happened to be patient until he leaves, Jess? What happened to that sweet, simple plan? Callum managed to smile. “I don’t need to cook for women to be impressed,” he said. “You know better than anyone else.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh please,” he said and stood, picked up his plate and leaned in to speak, “I know women can’t resist the Matheson charm.”

  I shoved my plate aside. “And by Matheson charm, you mean how you eat like a savage and how you chew so crudely, and how you always leave the door open when you pee?”

  “All part of the charm, Jess, admit it!” he said, leaving the dishes in the sink. He crossed his arms and stood perched on the edge of the counter. Let’s face it. There was a reason he was that cocky. “Admit you can’t get enough of me.”

  I stood and faced him. “Leave. Now.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “It’s still not safe outside, moron.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine!”

  “Would you watch the news for once in your life, Jess?”

  I rushed to the TV and turned it on.

  Great. Just what I wanted to hear. The storm looked like it was going to be around for a couple more days, and people were being told to stay indoors. Emergency hospitals weren’t doing so well, so many people had been hurt. No casualties
though, thankfully, no serious injuries. They said everyone should be fine so long as they heed the warnings.

  “The storm hasn’t subsided,” Callum said, coming to stand behind me. He placed his hands on my arms, and squeezed gently as his breath whispered softly against my neck. “I guess there’s a storm brewing right here too, Jess. I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t want to get swept off, do you?”

  Destiny has a cruel sense of humor.

  A Tiny Bit of Cold

  We had been walking aimlessly along the streets for hours. It was something we both enjoyed doing, but today Callum didn’t seem into it. I knew the reason, but I kept trying to avoid that subject, fearing he might not wish to talk about it anymore. He’d spent an entire summer trying to convince his father he wanted to attend college in New York, and I guess his father didn’t agree to it. I wouldn’t have pried; I made a point of not asking him about his problems until he was ready to share. Usually, that came when he had already become messed up and when he was on the verge of lashing out.

  Callum and his father fought a lot. There were times when he was at fault, but this time it was clearly his father’s fault. But there was nothing I could do about it and I couldn’t change his father’s mind. Even Callum’s mother had given up on trying to convince her husband.

  I grabbed Callum's hand and pulled him along. "Let's go," I stood stubbornly, waiting for him to give in. I knew he always went through this phase, post-fight. He would be all disinterested and then something would happen, he would drink and find some new music, or a new art installation. It wasn’t a healthy system, but it was Callum’s system for years now.

  He finally rolled his eyes and started walking with me. I guess it was as close to consent as I was going to get. The weather was chilly, but not bad enough to warrant heavy winter outfits, and a few layers of clothing were enough. Callum stared at the cars passing us by, and stopped against a wall to warm his hands.

  I didn't feel the cold as much as him. I was always the last one to feel it. But the cold wasn't the only thing affecting him. I knew his father’s jabs had an effect on him, but I wasn't quite sure how to help him. “Why aren't we going to the restaurant?”

  “What's the point,” he said dejectedly. I stopped walking and stood next to him.

  “You want to talk about what's bothering you?”

  “What's the point?” he shot back. “Talking, not talking, what difference does it make? We're still be stuck in this hell-hole.”

  He was in one of his moods again. Every time he went through a bad phase, he always came to this, blaming it all on the town and its residents. I’m sure he had his reasons, but I couldn’t understand why he was so angry all the time. Why he constantly acted like he would rather be somewhere else. It had started to bug me. I wanted to see him happy and content, but it appeared he wasn’t willing to make a compromise. He argued with his parents a lot. But because I wanted to help, and I knew he was messed up, I tried to keep my voice calm. “Callum, do you really hate this place so much?”

  “The real question is, why don't you?”

  “I don't know—”

  “It's all the same! Every weekend you go to town to sit in that one restaurant and eat. Then you go to the same bar you've gone a million times already, a bar that serves little more than beer and fucking Wild Turkey! Every fucking day begins the same. Ends the same. I’m going to suffocate and die here and no one will even know!”

  I knew he was sad, but I honestly didn't know what to say to him when he got this way. We were in high school, we shouldn't have everything figured out, but he did and I admired that about him. But it also meant he got frustrated a lot with the way things were around here. “Callum, it's going to be fine—”

  “That's what everyone keeps saying, it's going to be fine, but how? How will anything change if I don't change it?”

  I know he wanted to change the world. I just didn't know what I was going to do, while he was busy working on that life goal. “You should do it then.”

  “Do what?”

  “Start changing things.”

  He looked at me. “You don't know what you're saying.”

  He was so wrong about that. “I know.”

  He kept staring at me. “Jess, I can't be here. I can't keep doing this, I should try new things. I need to run if Dad won’t allow it—”

  “You do what you need to do, Callum.”

  He clearly wasn't expecting that response. “I need to go to New York. It's the only way.”

  Tears threatened to fall from my eyes, but I didn't let them. “I know.”

  He kissed me on the cheek. “You're a good friend, Jess.”

  Friend.

  I don't know what hurt me more. The fact that he was leaving, or that I'd been reduced to a friend. My heart was breaking into a million pieces but no one came to my rescue, least of all the person who had caused me so much pain. I stood there, gathering the strength to do what I knew I had to do next.

  Callum smiled and grabbed my hands. “We should go to the restaurant to celebrate.”

  I slowly pulled away my hands. “I'm sorry, Callum.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  I took a few steps back, away from him. “I can't be your friend.”

  I could hear him calling out my name.

  But he didn't stop me.

  He didn't even come after me.

  I kept walking until I was safely out of his life.

  Your Favorite Wine

  The storm was still raging outside.

  Somehow, Callum and I had ended up on the floor, next to the fire. Thank God for my wine-stocking habit, or I would have been stressed out. The power had gone out a couple of hours back, and we were left with the light of candles surrounding us. It was close to midnight but sleep was miles away from me.

  “Are you really happy?” I asked. “In New York, I mean.”

  “Do you really care?”

  “Why else would I be asking?”

  He paused. “I’m happy. Almost.”

  I took a drink of my wine. “Great.”

  “Are you angry that I’m happy?”

  I thought about it. “No.”

  He seemed to relax.

  “I’m angry that you made it without me.”

  “Not sure that I made it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re alive!” I said. “Without me…you’re not dying or dead. You haven’t been in bed for the past year because you missed me, Callum.”

  He looked at the fire. “What can I say, Jess. I’m an asshole.”

  An awkward silence followed.

  “We had something didn’t we, Jess?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Jess, I came here to see you.”

  I looked up at him. “You’re lying.”

  He looked up at me then.

  Memories flashed in front of my eyes, some bitter, some sweet, all of them leading to the final one I had the day he first kissed me. “That day you kissed me,” I began. “We never talked about it. Two weeks later, you were with some hot cheerleader and making out with her.”

  “Come on, Jess. I was a kid!”

  “I think you still are.”

  “Are you really going to punish me for this?” he said. “Go ahead. It’s what I deserve. But the day you left New York, I knew I made a mistake. But you were gone. You wouldn’t pick up my calls, and every time I tried to contact you, every time I came here, you shut me out. What was I supposed to do?”

  “That girl, you thought you were in love with, what happened?”

  “I got drunk and made out with her,” he said. “And I felt nothing.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “You think I’m lying to you?” he said. “Jess, I might be a major asshole, but I would never lie to you. If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be with them. I wouldn’t be coming back for you the whole time. You were right. We were Jess and Callum. I never should have let you go. I did and I’m sorry. I pushe
d you away. I never cheated on you, I was just…scared.”

  “Scared?”

  “You know how we would go to your parents, or every time they would come over,” he said. “They would keep talking marriage, and future, and commitment, and things seemed so…final.”

  “You can’t blame me for that. I never once pressured you.”

  “I know, Jess. I know but back then, there were things I still didn’t understand.”

  The sound of the storm outside, felt terrifyingly threatening for the next few minutes and I felt a strange dread.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll be fine in here.”

  There it was. The familiarity, the falling in place, like it was just yesterday we were hotly kissing and making out and fucking pretty much all the time. But I was still terrified of the storm.

  I hated I had to show it to him.

  There was a rumble of lightning.

  “Hey, it’s okay, we’re here together.”

  “So? You think it’s better if I die with you in the house?”

  “I would say it’s a definite improvement.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing.

  What the hell are you doing, Jess?

  New York New York

  “God, I missed you, Jess!” I heard his voice in my ear and it turned me on even more.

  “Callum—” I never got to finish my thought, because he closed my mouth with his, locking me in a kiss that became passionate and it was hard to suppress my lust. Seeing Callum so turned on was just icing on the cake. All my dreams of taking it slow had gone down the drain, when Callum pulled me toward him, before we even made it to the bedroom.

  He broke the kiss, and lifted me up in his arms, carried me to the bedroom and placed me gently on the bed. “It was a good idea, to come here, right?” he asked, and I smiled sexily at him.

  “Jury’s still out on that.”

  He was grinning, as he lowered himself to my feet and took off my heels, put them on the floor, and resumed kissing my left foot. He made his way up my leg, slowly, placing kisses at every stop, until he was grazing the delicate lace of my panties.