My chest tightened until there was no room for air but I managed to draw in just enough to say, “Then kiss me.”
FIVE
CHRISTOPHER
Everyone had regrets. Hindsight was full of them. Those should haves that haunt us for a lifetime.
I wasn’t going to let Elizabeth become one of those for me a second time.
When a beautiful woman asks—no, tells—you to kiss her, a smart man complies. But more than that, when the first girl to steal your heart gives you a second chance, even though you don’t deserve one, you take it.
I pushed my chair back from the table, about to stand and go to her, but she stood first and came around to my side. Then, damned if she didn’t straddle me right there, facing me as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
The old wood of the chair creaked from our combined weights. I should have probably been concerned about that. I couldn’t bring myself to worry about it as I got lost in the deep blue pools of her eyes.
When she leaned in and brushed her lips over mine, there wasn’t anything short of a blazing inferno around us that could have inspired me to ask her to move.
Her mouth a breath away from mine, she said, “I’ve been wanting to do this since we sat in the sleigh this morning.”
Good thing she hadn’t. Her comment brought to my mind images of some pretty irreverent role playing. Of me in my Santa suit and Elizabeth in the role of a naughty woman bound for coal in her stocking. Only in this scenario, bad girls got whatever they wanted from Santa.
As she ground against my lap, which was now no longer camouflaged by the long coat of the Santa suit, what she wanted from me was very apparent.
Judging by the hard length I was no longer trying to hide, I wanted the same thing she did.
I ran my hands up her back, pulling her close so I could reach her lips. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth. The soft sound of need that move drew out of her had me answering with a groan of my own.
Canned soup, be damned. I was no longer hungry for anything except for her.
I went back in for another taste of her lips, loving that I could still remember our first kiss and the feel of her mouth beneath mine. But a kiss like those when we’d been teenagers, no matter how intense it seemed to us then, wasn’t going to be enough this time.
My heart pounding, I cradled her head in both hands, angled my mouth and kissed her like I’d wanted to then. Like I’d wanted to since I’d recognized her this morning. Like a full-grown man kissed an adult woman.
Her passion matched my own as she kissed me harder, deeper, as our tongues tangled. She pressed closer, forcing me against the back of the chair.
It was a full body kiss that put us both in jeopardy of bodily harm as the wood beneath us groaned with the strain. Still we didn’t stop.
“Want you,” I confessed against her mouth.
“I never stopped wanting you,” she gasped.
Those were the only words I needed to hear. When she reached between us to unfasten my pants, I not only let her, I helped.
The unbelievably amazing feel of her hand wrapped around me was only surpassed by the anticipation of my being inside her. It seemed crazy that this was finally going to happen, here and now. But there was no doubt about it when she stood and pushed her jeans down her legs.
Getting tangled, she did a little dance as she kicked off her boots and then the pants.
When her underwear hit the ground my mouth went dry. Then my hands were full of warm soft flesh as she straddled me again.
“We really doing this here?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ve waited too long for you already.”
I couldn’t argue with her on that point so I gripped her hips and guided her over me.
Her mouth covered mine in another kiss as she slid down my length, her body engulfing me in wet sanity-robbing heat.
At forty years old, this wasn’t my first time. Far from it. But it might as well have been. I had skills in my sexual repertoire, but Elizabeth would never guess that. Not from this encounter when all I could do was clutch her tight as she moved over me.
I felt her start to shake, heard her cry out as her body gripped mine, and I said a silent thank you that at least she was coming, even though I hadn’t done a whole lot to help her over the edge.
Breathing out her name as I buried my face in her neck, I held on and rode her orgasm right to the very end, before I came myself.
When we were finished, we were both panting and breathless. Although the word finished wasn’t exactly accurate. Elizabeth was still sitting half-naked on top of me. I was still buried inside her and, judging by the state of my cock as it became increasingly ready for round two, I wasn’t nearly done yet.
I reached between us and dragged a fingertip down her slit. She sucked in a sharp breath at my touch and gazed at me from beneath heavy lids.
“You wanna go find a bed or are we staying here?” I asked.
“Actually . . .” She glanced behind her at the table. “I’ve had lots of fond fantasies about this very table over the years.”
How could it be that I’d had those same teenage sex fantasies about this table and her? Fantasies of Elizabeth on her back on the table, her legs wide as I stood between them and pounded into her. And Elizabeth, bent over the edge with me behind her and buried deep.
Christ. I was hard as a rock just from the thought. In case she needed more of an answer than that, I said, “I can have it cleared off in two seconds.”
She smiled and I knew there was a good possibly that when I sold the farm, I was going to have to keep this table. I’d fit it into my modern décor somehow, just for the memories alone.
Then again, after tonight, did I really want to sell?
SIX
ELIZABETH
I woke up in my own bed, alone, but that was okay, because I was deliciously sore in all the right places.
That didn’t mean I didn’t miss Christopher already, even though I’d only left him—I glanced at the clock—nine hours ago.
Wow, I’d slept late. But it was understandable, given the circumstances.
Sneaking into my room after midnight as I tried not to wake my parents after having crazy kitchen table sex with Christopher gave the whole episode a surreal feel.
I needed to shower. And I really should stop by Santa Station to check on everything before the start of day two of the festivities. Although, maybe I didn’t have to. Agnes had texted me we had a different Santa volunteer confirmed for today as well, as an apology from the originally scheduled Santa from yesterday, who’d come down with the flu.
What I really wanted to do was play hooky today from all my volunteer responsibilities and go see Christopher. Actually, I wanted to do more than just see him.
Maybe I could just text Nicole and tell her to text or call me if she needed me for anything.
It seemed like a good plan to me and I was all about plans. Of course, the one thing I hadn’t planned on was Christopher reappearing in my life. But that’s why plans were flexible.
Flexible . . . that word brought to mind an image from last night. Me on my back on the kitchen table. My one leg braced on Christopher’s shoulder. His dark eyes focused on my face as he plunged into me . . .
I let out a shaky breath as my heart pounded. I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand and scrolled to find the photographer’s number, punching in a text telling her not to expect me there.