“Passengers, please collect all of your belongings before exiting. You will not be permitted re-entry once you pass through the final exit,” we hear over the PA system, and I reach for my phone, making sure it’s set up for video.
“I’m so excited!” I lean up and kiss his cheek. “Let’s see if we can move in a little closer, I can’t see too well from here.” I step up on my tippytoes to further prove my point.
“That’s cause you’re a short stack, Short Stack,” he teases, his brown eyes tender while maneuvering us closer through the crowd.
“Hey.” I swat his chest. “Good things come in small packages.”
“The best things,” he muses, kissing the top of my head. “What does she look like anyw—”
He doesn’t get to finish, his eyes having landed on something—or rather, someone—familiar. Suddenly, he steps away from me, then stops and turns back, then whips his head to and fro, completely perplexed. He continues to glance toward the double doors, then back at me, then once more towards the doors at a dark-haired, pink-faced lady in a red coat and the older, dignified-looking man walking beside her who’ve just stepped out of the Arrivals gate and are looking around hopefully. A cautious smile begins to break across Hendrix’s handsome face. Reaching for my phone, I press “record” as the scene begins to unfold.
“Mum?” he calls, waving to the brunette. She’s beautiful, with tasteful streaks of grey in her lush hair, vibrant hazel eyes and a huge smile on her face when she finally zeroes in on Hendrix and me. She waves back, then covers her mouth with one hand. My heart melts seeing how happy they both are, at how surprised Hendrix is. He quickly turns to stare at me again, a silent admission of how craftily I’ve tricked him, then he and his mother lock eyes and rush towards one another.
Kara beelines her way through the crowd, followed by the man I’m assuming is Arran, who is staggering a little under the weight of a bunch of carry-on bags. Kara takes Hendrix in a huge embrace then pulls back from him and cups his face, smiling at him with tear-filled eyes. They chatter at each other for a few seconds, until Kara’s eyes alight on me in my Santa hat. She waves me over with a radiant smile, bouncing up and down in excitement and clasping her hands.
Hendrix gives her one more hug and claps Arran on the shoulder, then returns to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. He stops just before we reach his mum and Arran and pushes up on me, poking me playfully with his index finger.
“You. You did this?”
I smile brightly. “I did. With a little help from my partner-in-crime.” I nod in his mother’s direction.
“You did this. For me.”
“Well, yeah. You miss each other. I thought it would be the perfect surprise to thank you for being there for me over the last few weeks.”
“I don’t know what to say, Trin.” He places his forehead against mine. “I fucking love you so much right now.”
“Hendrix! Stop mauling that young lady and bring her over to introduce us properly,” I hear Kara call in her Birmingham accent. We turn. “You must be Trinity.”
I am soon embraced in her warm hug.
45
Hendrix
“Hendrix!” my mum shouts. “Oh, Hendrix. I’ve missed you terribly, my little Painini,” she says, using the horrible nickname she started calling me back when I was in middle school. She claims it came about because that’s when I became such a pain in the ass. According to her, I’d always been shy and quiet right up until I hit Grade 6—then it was like a switch flipped and I gave her and my dad a run for their money ever since.
“Ha! Did you just call him ‘Pain-ini?’” I hear Trin ask, giggling beside me, her steel-coloured eyes dancing with glee at the revelation.
“Nooooo,” I chide, shaking my head in my mum’s direction.
“Yes.” Mum laughs. “Right? I’ve missed you very much, my son.” She kisses my cheek. “And this lovely petite darling is of course our Trinity.” Hearing my mum acknowledging Trinity as “ours” gives me a sense of peace I didn’t know I’d been craving. Not having my mum here to know my girl has been weighing on me. With everything that’s been going on recently, I realize just how much I’ve wanted them to meet. I knew they’d hit it off and get along, and it looks like I was right.
My mum took the news of Trinity’s being HIV-positive exactly how I expected—she was worried for me, of course, but supportive, the way she always has been of me and my decisions. If anything, it just gave her something new to worry about. I know for a fact that Trin’s been added to my mother’s nightly prayer list. But these two already seem quite familiar with one another, I see, putting the pieces together.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person. Facetime and email are not the same,” Trinity says, giving me a cheeky wink before moving into my mum’s outstretched arms and receiving a warm hug. Meanwhile, I wrap my arm around Arran’s shoulders and welcome him.
“Very excited you’re both here. Surprised and excited. Let’s say we get outta here?” I ask, squeezing his shoulder and nodding toward the exit leading to the parking garage as I commandeer their heavy luggage cart.
“Sounds good to me, son. I could use a pint and a wee nibble. Bloody airline food is rubbish; don’t they know it’s Christmas? They could have at least made it a non-plasticized meal in honour of the season,” he jokes in his thick accent, and we all laugh as we make our way out to my truck.
“What hotel are you at?” I ask as we walk.
“Umm, about that…” Trin rushes up and locks my arm in hers, stopping us, allowing my mum and Arran to walk ahead.
“We’ll catch up. My truck’s the blue one, up on the left there,” I point. “The Ford,” I shout out to my mum, who’s grinning like a loon.
“I told your mom and Arran they could stay at your place. I figured you could spend the time staying with me at mine? I assumed it would be alright, since we’re at my apartment almost every night, anyway. Maybe we could bring a few of your things over and…maybe leave them there?” she says nervously, shifting her gaze everywhere but at me.
“Are you asking me to move in with you, Fruitloop?” I say, leaning in and placing my face in the crook of her neck, making her laugh when I dart my tongue out to tickle her.
Smacking my chest, she giggles and says, “Yeah, I think I am. I really like having you around. Figured I had room for one more supercool fixture. I mean, you would finish the place off nicely. The addition of a you would give my place that extra homey vibe it’s been missing,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “What do you say, Hendrix, you want to be my home?”
Fuck, this girl never ceases to amaze me. It’s almost if she can read my mind sometimes. We are so on the same page, it’s scary. I can’t wait to see her face tomorrow. Now more than ever.
Picking her up, I kiss her cheek. “I love my mum and Arran, but we need to hurry up and drop them off. We’re heading home. I gotta get you in our bed…now.” I set her down on the concrete then rush her by the hand all the way to where they’re standing by my truck, watching us and chuckling, having managed to find their way without us.
“Easy, big boy. We need to visit with Kara and Arran, and then we have a mission to tackle before you can reap the rewards of becoming my concubine.” She kisses my cheek as I open the tonneau cover, ready to start tossing the luggage into the bed of the truck, and then I see how full of shopping bags and shit it is already.
“What the hell are all these boxes and bags?” I call out to Trin, but she’s already in the back seat of the truck with Arran. Why do I have a feeling this is some kind of a setup?
*
“Holy shit, Mum. How much stuff did you get Trin to buy?” I ask, looking around my now-unidentifiable living room as Trinity, my mum, Arran and I sit on the floor about to start the exciting “wrapping party” Trin and my mum suckered Arran and I into attending. We were rather bluntly told that if we wanted to receive any Christmas gifts, we would have to wrap some. See? I knew something wa
s up when I saw all that loot in my truck. Damn straight, men have that intuition shit, too.
“Oh, shush. It’s not everyday I get to meet my son’s extended family. I need to thank them for taking such good care of my Painini, and I could only fit so much in our bags,” she says and Trin belly laughs, almost spilling her hot toddy on herself.
“I think these are making me a wee bit tipsy,” Trin laughs, trying out a horrendous Cockney accent, before taking another sip of her toddy. This is Arran’s special concoction of whiskey, hot water, honey, cloves, lemon and a cinnamon stick. Apparently he was in on this Christmas Eve wrapping session, because conveniently all of the ingredients happen to have been in one of the many bags hidden in my truck. Traitor.
“I think we need to introduce this yummy little guy to the girls tomorrow,” Trin says with that breathtaking grin of hers that lights up…well…my whole fucking life.
“Ah, yes, there’s plenty more. I’d be happy to whip some up tomorrow,” he winks, raising his glass.
“Perfect. I definitely see this becoming my fall bonfire drink from now on. Wine, who?”
“Ah, Trinny, I knew you were a girl after my own heart,” my mum says, and pats Trin’s cheek softly as she hands her a roll of Scotch tape.
Seeing my mum and Trinity getting along is the best gift. I can’t take my eyes off my girl tonight as she gets to know my family.
And she went all out to make them feel welcome and at home. I have no idea how she pulled it all off, but she did, and so far this has been a holiday to remember. We devoured the dinner of prime rib, mashed potatoes and glazed carrots that Trinity had sneakily prepared while I worked this morning, giving her Aunt Til my key and having her come make my house guest-friendly and do all the finishing touches on the meal while we were at the airport. Trin also put up some holiday decorations and one of those tiny trees, insisting they needed something “Christmassy” to make them feel festive over the holidays. I simply laughed and kissed her forehead.
I’m excited for tomorrow, and looking forward to Trinity, her family and my family coming together as one.
I have a feeling that this will be the start of many good things to come.
46
Hendrix
“I still can’t believe you and my mum pulled that off. I had no clue, seriously.” I shake my head, pouring hot water into two mugs while making Trin and I cups of Earl Grey tea. We’re back at “our” place, and I’m thankful the wrapping duties are finally over.
We left my mum and Arran to sleep. They were exhausted from their flight and our visit. I have a feeling the hot toddies mixed with jet lag were just what the doctor ordered to help them get a good night’s rest before another busy day tomorrow, despite them denying they were tired and trying to coerce us to stay longer. We promised to pick them up bright and early tomorrow as we made our way out the door.
And we nearly escaped unscathed, too, but at the last minute, Mum rushed off to grab us both our Christmas Eve gifts from her suitcase. They were matching “Christmas Eve pyjamas”, a tradition she’s kept for as long as I can remember. Seeing Trinity’s face light up at the notion of getting special Christmas p.j.’s made me feel like an ass for giving my mum such a hard time about continuing the tradition well beyond the age I deemed it acceptable. Hell, she can buy them until we’re old and grey if it makes my Fruitloop happy.
Speaking of getting old and grey with this girl, I was elated when my mum pulled me aside and whispered how happy she was that she’d be here to witness the surprise I have planned for Trinity tomorrow, that she could sense that Trin was definitely “my one”. Her happy tears almost busted us, but, thankfully, Mum was quick to say she was simply being emotional about being here with us for the holidays. Trin’s not the only sneaky one. God, my Fruitloop better say “yes”.
“I can’t believe your mum didn’t tell you they were coming the other day, when you were on her about coming to visit you soon. She told me it was unbelievably hard to keep our secret and not spill the beans,” Trin says, cutting through my thoughts.
Handing over her tea, I sigh and ask the dreaded question. “Please tell me we don’t have any more gifts to wrap tonight?” I cringe, waiting for the answer.
“Nope. I’ve wrapped them all, including the ones I got for you. Which means we can snuggle and watch a movie. Maybe I’ll even let you jingle my bells,” she jokes, making her way to the living room. I follow her to the couch, placing my mug beside hers. “I’m so punny.” She slaps her knee and giggles, sitting down close to me.
“You’re something, alright. I think that’s more of a euphemism than a pun, but you can jingle my balls later, if you want.” Putting my arm over and around her neck, I tuck her in real close, whispering in her ear, “I have no doubt that mistletoe won’t be the only thing you’re under tonight, baby.” I plant a big wet kiss on her cheek.
“Well, then,” she says, then stands and yanks me up off the couch, a mischievous glint taking over her eyes. “I think we should move this party into the bedroom. We can get comfy, watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation in bed and see where things go.” She scans me from head to toe in a slow, appreciative perusal.
“Promise you’ll wear that sexy-as-fuck onesie my mum gave you?” I ask, walking her to our room. “I really think I’m going to enjoy that easy-access flap. I can open it from behind and slip right in, maybe in the middle of the night, or to say Merry Christmas nice and early tomorrow.” I nip her earlobe, her breath quickening at my words. I start to undress us, leaving a trail behind us on our way to the bedroom. Her sweater, my t-shirt, her tank top, her bra…
“Only if you wear yours?” she pants, voice unsteady. She’s already worked up from my fingers nimbly playing with her hard nipples, the heat from my bare chest hitting her back, causing goosebumps to surface.
“If it gets you as turned on as I think seeing you in yours will get me, then you can guarantee I’ll be putting that shit on. Fuck, I’ll wear it everyday if you want,” I groan, pushing my hardness into her ass and she laughs.
“Can’t wait to find out.”
“I can’t believe my mum bought us matching onesies, though. Tell me, what grown-assed man in his right mind would wear that shit?”
“One who is about to get tangled up in some wild onesie sex with his girlfriend,” Trinity says, stepping away from me, picking up her new pyjamas and heading to the washroom. “I suggest you get ready, Mistletoe. I’m almost ready to come beneath you,” she winks before closing the door, and I swear to old St. Nick I feel every single one of her words jingle all the way to my balls.
47
Trinity
Closing the door to the washroom, I can’t help giggle a little. Here I am half-naked, about to cover myself up again. However, the idea of seeing Hendrix wearing a matching red-and-green plaid onesie will be worth it. The fact that he’s even playing along makes me giddy. My big hard man continues to surprise and impress me. Hendrix and I both know he could have very easily had me beneath him by now, yet is allowing us to have this little game of dress-up.
“You better be changing,” I call, tossing my white lace thong on top of my skinny jeans in a small heap on the white-tiled floor, “because I’m about ready to blow your mind with all my sexiness in this racy-assed fuzzy get up.”
“That’s not all you’re gonna blow, baby,” he chuckles, and I roll my eyes. I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
“Impossible,” I mutter.
“You love me,” I hear him reply.
“Are you standing right outside the door?” I ask, not surprised really. The man is the definition of impatient.
“Hell, yeah. I’m ready and I look fucking hot. You’re going to want to ravage me as soon as you open the door. I figured I’d save you the long trip to the bed. I’m waiting for you, too, Fruitloop. Get out here,” he says, his voice dripping with promise, and it makes my skin tingle while my core hums with excitement.
My heart starts to pound in my
chest as I zip myself up. He’s right. Me wanting to ravage him is usually the case. Checking myself over in the mirror, I sweep my now-brown bangs over my face and fluff up the back up a little bit, not that it will matter. Good thing Shannon and I decided to go brunette at my last appointment; I don’t think the pink would have looked so hot with this red-and-green outfit. Turning, I check out my ass. There’s no doubt Hendrix will take full advantage of the button-down butt flap. If only Kara knew just how thoughtful her gift really was.
Opening the door, I inhale sharply when I see Hendrix, who’s bracing himself against the door’s frame.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he says, standing tall and strong in all his fleece-covered glory. His arms stretch the plaid material; it’s a tight fit over his bulging muscles. Gone is the laugh I thought would escape when I finally saw him. It’s the opposite—I practically drool, instead. Although he does look a bit on the silly side in his fleece get-up, it comes off as charming. The look in his eyes coupled with his sexy lopsided grin and amazing physique do nothing but remind me and my lady bits just how handsomely sexy Mr. Hendrix Hills is, even in a fuzzy Christmas-themed onesie.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, my cheeks heating under his scrutiny.
“Come here, baby. Keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna come in my new outfit,” he smirks. “Let me look at you.” He pulls me through the threshold. “Turn.” He twirls his finger and makes a hissing sound as I spin, and I smile, knowing he likes what he sees. The onesie fits me a little too perfectly, showcasing my curves and highlighting all of his favourite places, places I can’t wait to feel his lips, hands and mouth.
“I’m beyond ready to get tangled up with you, Trinny,” he says, pulling me flush to him, roaming his hands across my body. “This might be the best present my mum’s ever given me. I’m sure as hell gonna enjoy unwrapping you,” he says, down on his knees at my backside, his hands resting on the buttons. “Ah, I wonder what’s behind panel number one? Is your pussy wet and ready for me?” Hendrix asks, his smooth deep voice causing an ache between my legs. Instinctively, I clench, his words making my body to react in the most delicious way. If I wasn’t wet before, I sure as hell am now.
Tainted by Love Page 22