by Kitt Rose
“Shit.” He shifted in his seat. “I’ve created a monster.”
I giggled some more. “You like it.”
“Uh… Yeah. Duh.” He laughed back at me before I tightened my fist and his laughter turned into a groan of pleasure. When he turned onto his street, I took the chance and slipped under the shoulder belt, wrapping my lips around the head of his penis.
“Fuck.” His head hit the back of the seat and he slowed down, turning into his driveway.
As soon as he threw the car in park and pulled the keys from the ignition, his hands tunneled into my hair, pulling it away from my face so he could see what I was doing. He reclined the seat a little to give himself a better view. I went faster. His breathing got rough and his body tensed.
“I’m going to come, Z. Stop.”
I didn’t stop. I wanted this. We’d never done this to completion. I sucked harder and with a groan, he came in my mouth. I swallowed the bitter fluid with hardly a grimace, a few seconds of yuck was okay. And somehow, I’d grown to like the musky taste of him so his semen wasn’t too bad. I pulled my mouth off of him as soon as he stopped and grinned up at him.
“Shit. You didn’t have to do that.” He pulled me over into his lap.
“I wanted to.” He groaned and captured my mouth, plunging his tongue inside. I wondered if he could taste himself on me like I could when he’d given me oral sex.
His eyes were heavy when he pulled back and I yawned. “How’s a nap sound?”
“Like heaven.” Laughing a little, he carried me inside and deposited me gently on the bed, pulling off my shoes and socks for me. I stripped my jeans and bra off and climbed under the covers. “Weird question…”
He made a noise in the back of his throat, letting me know he’d heard me, as he was emptying his pockets.
“Why does your bedroom look like a magazine?”
He smiled hugely and with laughter in his voice, confessed. “My mom decorated my living room and the bedroom. She was a little horrified by how I had things and I didn’t really care so why not? Why? Did you think I did this?”
“Nah. Didn’t seem like you. I honestly thought maybe Joey or Ella.” I pretended that the relief I felt knowing I wasn’t sleeping in Ella’s dream bedroom wasn’t there. After all, I was the one here with Dennis. My jealousy was ridiculous.
“Phini I might let help, but Ella… She had horrible taste. Her whole apartment is Pepto-Bismol pink.” He shuddered. “No way in hell.”
After climbing into bed next to me, he pulled me into his arms. “That’s better than my mom’s burnt orange and brown. Throw in some shag carpeting and it’d be the seventies.”
He was quiet for a long time. If not for his breathing, I would have thought he’d fallen asleep. When he spoke, it startled me. “Were you ever happy there?”
Thoughtful, I nodded. “Yeah. Not often but sometimes. I love my sister, and my brothers. My nieces and nephews. It was great getting to be a part of their lives. And my mom, she wasn’t really horrible. A few of her boyfriends were horrible. But Mom, she was mostly just neglectful. There were times that I was … content, I guess. Not really happy but everything was okay.
“I wrote Heather an email on Sunday night. It’s still sitting in my outbox because I haven’t gotten up the guts to send it, but I think I’m going to. I’m not ready to actually talk to her yet but I just keep thinking I’d hate myself and regret it forever if something happened to her and we weren’t speaking. If she thought I hated her … I don’t. I’m ticked off, but I don’t hate her. Andy really got on me about that and I think he’s right.
“Is it sad that I miss that dope?”
I could feel Dennis’s smile against my temple. “Not sad at all. He wasn’t too bad. After he got over…”
“Being a judgmental jerk?” I suggested when Dennis stalled.
He laughed, seeming uncomfortable. “I wasn’t going to say that but yeah … I think he took one look at me and labeled me trouble.”
I flipped onto my stomach and rose over him on my elbows, smiling down at him. “If only he knew how much trouble you really are. Such a bad influence on me,” I teased as I ran my index finger over his perfect cheekbones.
He snorted a laugh and pulled me down, pushing my head onto his chest. “Go to sleep.”
I closed my eyes and breathed him in. His arms tightened around me.
“Z?”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna come home with me for Christmas?” he asked. “I really want you to meet my parents.”
Nervousness rolled in my belly. I forced myself to ignore it. “As long as I can get the time off, yes. I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Gifts
Dennis
Wednesday, December 23rd
I cut out of work early, eager to get on the road at a decent hour. Mom would be up late, but Dad was an early riser. I couldn’t wait for Dad to meet Zirah. Both my parents were going to fucking love her, but Dad was a kindred spirit with his violin.
Zirah was nervous. She’d told me multiple times that she’d never met anyone’s parents before. But her nerves hadn’t dulled her excitement about the season. She seemed to love Christmas. Having money around the holiday was a novelty that hadn’t worn off. She’d shipped a big box of presents to her nieces and nephews, her siblings, and even her mom.
I knocked on her door at three in the afternoon. She let me inside, rushing back into the apartment to grab a duffle bag.
“Did you pack a swimsuit?” I asked, leaning against the door with my hand in a pocket.
Z froze and turned to face me. “Um, no. Isn’t it a little too cold to go swimming?”
“Not in the indoor swimming pool. They live in a complex with a community center. Last year, hardly anyone was there at Christmas so I had the pool pretty much to myself.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“They’ve got a hot tub too.”
A slow smile made those dimples I loved so much pop. “That sounds awesome.”
Z disappeared into her closet for a minute and came back with a blue and white one-piece. I’d been hoping for a bikini, but I supposed she was used to hiding scarred skin. Skin that now bore two of my pieces. One was unfinished but showed every sign of becoming my best work yet. I’d started the back piece two weeks ago. Only the outline was complete, but already the scars disappeared into the image. Once the shading and color were done, they would be all but invisible.
Then I’d buy her a bikini. Something tiny. And green.
Zirah grinned at me as she stuffed the suit into her bag. After zipping the pocket, she carried the bag over and dropped it at my feet. Then she jumped, grabbing me around the neck.
Laughing, I caught her, grabbing her ass and pulling her close. Her lips met mine and she sighed into the kiss. I let my eyes drift closed. Z kissed me with everything she had. Every time since the first. Her strawberry scent made my head swim and I tightened my arms around her.
Fuck. We didn’t have time for what I wanted, what a part of me was growing insistent that it needed.
I pulled back. Z’s cheeks glowed and her eyes dilated with desire.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing much. Just for being wonderful. It just hits me sometimes. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be in love with this freakishly tall, insanely hot, amazing man. And that largely because of him, and his amazing artwork that he painstakingly put on my body, that I’d feel this good about myself… Well, I wouldn’t have believed it.” She played with my ponytail, pulling it to the side and letting the strands slip through her fingers. “I just feel so lucky. I love you, Dennis. So much. And you make me so happy. You’ve helped me find some peace with who I am.”
My face softened. She was so sweet. I rubbed my nose on hers. “I love you too, Zirah. And I think I’m the lucky one. Shit, you are just too sweet.” Rubbing her spine, I rested my head on hers for a moment. “Do y
ou want to eat before we go or hit something on the way?”
“On the way. Oh, and I packed snacks and drinks.”
“You’re awesome.” I grabbed her duffle bag and pointed to her violin. “Bring that too. I’m sure my parents will want to play with you. I know you’re nervous about this, but my parents are going to fucking love you. Probably more than they love me.”
She shoved my shoulder playfully and picked up the violin and a big brown bag.
I raise an eyebrow. “What’s all that?”
“Presents for you and your parents.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. It was fun and I can’t wait to see what you think of your gifts.” She bounced on her toes and I shook my head, smiling.
Yeah, she was so digging Christmas.
The drive was long, but unlike my previous trips down, far from boring. We talked, Z sang along with some oldies radio station, and we just had fun. I even convinced her to drive a little of the way. My girl was starting to feel comfortable behind the wheel, though semi-trucks freaked her out. She white-knuckled the steering wheel whenever one flanked us.
It was just past midnight when we pulled into the gated community where my parents lived. The homes were four to a building, all yellow single stories with fenced yards and white porches. My parents were right next to the community center. I parked in the driveway, climbing out of the car.
Stiff from the drive, I stretched my arms up over my head. My back popped and Z winced.
“What?” I asked, twisting at the waist and eliciting more sounds. Z cringed.
“That sounds like it hurts,” she said, doing a little stretching of her own.
I popped the trunk and grabbed the bags, leaving the violin for Z to carry. After leading the way up to the house, I knocked on the door. Mom opened it almost immediately.
More silvery-white shot through her red hair than the last time I’d seen her, and laugh lines spread from her pale-blue eyes. Mom grinned, showing the gap in the middle of her front teeth. She wore a pair of cotton pants and an Einstein shirt, a pair of purple and teal reading glasses shoved up onto her head.
Throwing open the screen door, Mom flung herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She rocked back and forth. “Oh, my baby!”
Bemused, I squeezed the tiny woman back. “Hey, Mom. Sorry it’s so late.”
She made a clucking sound with her tongue and released me. “Oh please, you know me. I never go to bed until at least one. Now your dad, he’s been out since nine when I made him move from his recliner to the bed because I couldn’t hear my shows over his snoring.”
I laughed and slid an arm around Z, pulling her forward. “Mom, this is Zirah. Z this is Helen Hansen.”
Zirah’s entire body locked in shock with Mom hugged her. Panicked eyes met mine over my mom’s shoulder and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you,” Mom gushed. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Pulling back, she gripped Z’s chin gently, tilting her face down. “You sure are a beautiful girl. And you don’t muck it up with all that crap girls wear on their face nowadays.”
Z’s cheeks turned pink and she giggled. “That’s more ineptitude than true choice. I try to put on more than a little mascara and blush and I look like I put makeup on in the dark, using my feet…”
Mom laughed and pulled us both into the house. It smelled like home, like hazelnut coffee and Mom’s lavender vanilla lotion. I breathed in the scents of my childhood.
“I’m sure you both are tired so we’ll save the catching up and how do you dos ’til morning. Well, late-ish morning,” Mom said, leading us down the hall to the guest room.
I threaded my fingers through Zirah’s. Her fingers were cold and stiff, and she squeezed my hand tight. Mom’s warmth radiated from her. I’d hoped her nature would relax Z. Maybe she was just tired.
Mom pushed open the guest room door and gestured inside. “You’re in here. You’ve got your own bathroom. We’re on the other side of the living room so don’t worry about noise but you let me know if the TV’s too loud. Okay? Need anything?”
“We’re fine, Mom. Thanks.” I dropped a kiss on my mom’s soft cheek and closed the door, locking it.
Zirah gave me a look. I shrugged. “Unless you want my dad in here first thing in the morning shooting the shit from the doorway, because coming in is violating my privacy”—I rolled my eyes—“make sure to lock the door.”
I dropped our bags, watching Z take in the room. Mom liked to decorate and she had designed this room to invite. Done in soft blue and pale sherbet orange, it wasn’t a combination of colors I particularly liked, but the effect was calming.
“They don’t care that we share a room?” Z asked.
I snorted. Yeah, no. “The comment about the noise. That was her way of telling us she doesn’t care what we do in this room. In this bed.” I wagged my eyebrows at Z as red stained her cheeks. “You’re so cute when you blush. Don’t worry, I’m far too tired to seduce you tonight.”
Z laughed and ducked into the bathroom. I followed her, getting ready for bed. A few minutes later, when we climbed into bed, I moaned. The sheets were soft and cool against my skin.
“Oh, my gosh, this bed is heaven,” Zirah mumbled from beside me.
“Yeah. It’s the sheets. I need to get a set of these.” I pulled her into my side, kissing her briefly. And then sleep claimed me.
Chapter Nineteen
Duet
Zirah
Friday, December 25th
I felt like an intruder as I padded down the wide hallway. My wet hair swung around my face. I tucked it behind my ears before wrapping my arms around myself. When I woke a half-hour ago, I knew I’d never be able to fall back to sleep. Quietly, I’d gotten a shower and dressed.
Now that Dennis’s mother wasn’t watching me, I looked around the living room. The room was done in shades of cream with pale-green and blue accents. An overstuffed sofa in beige was positively hidden under throw pillows. The assortment of colors, patterns, and fabrics overwhelmed my eyes and I looked past the eclectic collection to the wall behind. Family photos in dark frames covered the expanse. This was Dennis’s childhood. I stepped closer to examine the photo history of his life.
I laughed softly. He definitely had an awkward stage, all long limbs and knobby knees. And braces. Oh, the braces with the neon rubber bands. He really was adorable.
Turning my attention back to the room, a cool canvas on a different wall caught my eye. It looked like a collection of sheet music, layered and arranged to catch the eye. A small cheery Christmas tree stood in the room’s corner, decorated in classic colors with lots of homemade-looking ornaments. A faded yarn-covered popsicle stick star, the painted pinecone, and a handprint had places of pride front and center.
“My wife keeps everything. Bit of a pack rat where Dennis is concerned,” a voice said, startling me.
I jumped, spinning to find who could only be Dennis’s dad. Will was my height with wide shoulders and a small belly. His hair was shaved close to the scalp and peppered with gray and dark brown. He wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and a pink polo shirt.
He smiled, his face kind and decorated with laugh lines. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just wasn’t paying any attention.” I gestured to the tree. “It’s really nice that she kept all this. I’m Zirah, by the way. Everyone just calls me Z.” I held out my hand.
He put his in mine gently and squeezed more than shook. “I’m Will Hansen. Helen and I have heard a lot about you. We’re so glad you could make it down for the holiday. Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.” I followed him into a bright and sunny yellow and white kitchen. Cute gingham curtains framed an incredible view of a garden.
“Cream or sugar?”
I shook my head and took the cup from him, settling at the table.
“I love that view,” he said, not
icing my interest.
“It’s beautiful. But it still kind of feels weird to know its Christmas time and there’s not a hint of snow or cold. Totally not complaining, it’s just weird.”
With a laugh, he shook his head. “Oh, I know. Feel the same way. There’s something wrong with the only seasons being hot, hotter, and hot as hell.” He sipped his coffee. “I can’t believe you’re awake. It was late when you kids got in, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but six hours is about what I usually get.”
“So I hear you’re quite the violinist. I hope you brought your instrument.”
I nodded and he beamed. “Who taught you?”
“Oh, well, Mr. Odell was my teacher in elementary and high school. In middle school, I had Ms. Richardson.”
He sat up a little straighter. “Lawrence Odell?”
“Yeah. He goes by Larry though.”
“Holy shit! What a small world. Barb, Larry’s wife, and Helen were college roommates and when Barb and Larry started dating, they set me and Helen up. Hold up. You’re that girl. The one that was staying with them for a while?”
I nodded, stunned.
He snapped his fingers. “Woods, I think it was. Larry thinks the world of you. Says you are an amazing musician. I would have never put it together though. He always calls you Woods when we talk.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Mr. Odell calls everyone by their last name. Even after I dropped out and got my GED, I was still Woods or Ms. Woods. But he was nice enough to keep teaching me even afterward. Mr. and Mrs. Odell were like my second family. It’s cool that you guys know each other!”
“Yes, it is. And now I absolutely have to hear you play. Come along.” He stood up and I followed him down the hall where Dennis slept and to the room on the other side of the hall. When he opened the door, the contents of the room stunned me. Instruments filled the room, a piano, violins, viola, cello, even a harp crowded in the small room. A few overloaded bookshelves lined one wall.