Hooked on You

by Jenn Matthews

  “It is.” Their lips were so close she could feel Ollie’s breath against her face. “It’s amazing.”

  Anna wrapped her arms around Ollie but allowed the kiss to remain soft and tender.

  “I’ve missed you,” Ollie breathed against Anna’s lips, teasing her bottom lip with both her own, making Anna sigh.

  “Missed you too.” It’s been three days! But I have.

  Anna’s stomach interrupted them with a huge growl. Ollie chuckled and then kissed her swiftly.

  After rubbing her inconvenient stomach, Anna looked around the flat. “So, what other culinary delights have you prepared?”

  Ollie chivalrously insisted that Anna sit in the prepared nest and wait for her to bring in their dinner. She flicked on the stereo, which already had a CD inside—Anna recognised it as Dean Martin and Friends. The music was soft and flowed around the room, making Anna’s limbs feel pleasantly heavy.

  Ollie laid the tray down and dropped one hand to the floor at her hip before lowering herself onto the rug. She grimaced as she did it, but Anna got the impression she did it all the time and so refrained from reaching out to help her.

  The tray held small pieces of turkey coated in a crimson-coloured sauce, small potato wedges, sprouts that smelled vinegary, and pastry parcels containing a green-looking stuffing. This, in addition to the bread and cheese and pickle, felt like a feast. “This looks delicious.”

  “I didn’t make it all from scratch,” Ollie replied, sitting by her side but facing her and stretching her legs out by Anna’s hip.

  “You didn’t have to make any of it from scratch.” Anna took one of the small plates by their wine glasses, and a napkin.

  Ollie fingered the sleeve of Anna’s Christmas jumper. “This really is gorgeous, by the way.”

  “Not silly?”

  Ollie shrugged. “More gorgeous than silly.”

  “I insist on my family wearing at least one item of Christmas clothing on the actual day. I can hardly argue that I mustn’t wear one myself.”

  “Rose family tradition?” Ollie asked.

  Anna nodded, directing her hand to a parcel and feeling the crisp edges of the pastry with her fingertips. “These are fantastic,” she said with her mouth full.

  Following Anna’s example, they ate with their hands. Anna’s fingers became sticky with the cranberry sauce covering the turkey. They quickly polished off the main course between them. Ollie seemed to be enjoying the food, too, and kept shooting Anna surprised and pleased expressions, even though she was the one who had provided it all.

  They’d kept their hands to themselves, mostly because Anna couldn’t bring herself to share any of the mouthfuls she lifted to her lips.

  Once the turkey and trimmings disappeared, Ollie spread some pickle into a piece of crusty bread and then topped it with a cube of cheese. She held it out, and Anna carefully took it from her with her mouth. When Ollie leaned in to kiss some pickle from Anna’s lips, Anna pulled her in with a sticky hand and they ended up kissing properly, open-mouthed. They had to force themselves apart, but Anna was delighted to see a dark longing in Ollie’s eyes.

  While Ollie poured them some wine, she poked the two wrapped gifts she’d apparently just noticed nestled underneath it. She gave Anna the glass and a squinty smile. “Looks like Saint Nick has been.”

  “Must have,” Anna replied into her wine glass before she sipped. Perfect. “You do have a chimney, after all.” She suddenly felt the urge to take Ollie’s hand. “Let’s finish eating first,” she whispered.

  “Roger that.”

  Once the cheese and bread and chutney were gone, Anna left their little nest and returned with one large bowl containing four mince pies she’d heated in the microwave briefly. She laid the bowl between them and then poured cream into it. Her backside snuggled into the nest again as she sat properly, her thigh resting against the side of Ollie’s thigh, the bowl now in her own lap. She used the spoon to break off a little pie, dipped it in cream, and held it to Ollie’s lips.

  Ollie took the spoonful slowly, her tongue working to roll the dried fruit, the sugar, the buttery pastry, and the subtle cream around her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment.

  Mesmerised, Anna suddenly realised she was holding the spoon in the air near Ollie’s lips. She knew her own face was flushed. An ache had begun in her stomach and lower. Her ribs expanded and contracted as she breathed deeply. How am I turned on simply by Ollie eating a mince pie? I need to get some control.

  Dark eyes opened, and Ollie brushed Anna’s cheek with her thumb and then took the spoon from her. “Homemade?”

  “Apart from the cream,” Anna replied and had to clear her throat when her words came out stilted.

  “Mmm,” Ollie scooped up some more pie and cream, lifting it to Anna’s lips.

  Anna held Ollie’s gaze as she took the spoon into her mouth.

  A trembling hand crept around Anna’s waist as the spoon clattered into the bowl, and they leaned their foreheads against one another.

  Anna chewed as quickly as she could, everything tingling despite the warmth from the wood burner. “Ollie.” Anna’s heart pounded in her chest, and her whole body shook.

  “Food is a serious problem for us, isn’t it?” Ollie said, an eyebrow raised.

  “Good food, certainly,” Anna replied, her voice a little stronger.

  Ollie touched her face. “Next time we’ll have something less delicious.”

  Shaking her head, Anna placed a hand over her sternum. “It’s just…you affect me.” Anxiety fluttered through her. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that. Not in fifty-two years.

  With insistence, Ollie nodded. “You affect me too.” Her palm smoothed soothingly back and forth around Anna’s waist.

  The caress was calming, and it steadied Anna’s racing heart slightly. She took a slow, measured breath. “Maybe we should just eat the rest like normal people?” She gently poked Ollie’s side.

  Ollie chuckled. “That’s a tip-top idea. As much as I’d like to feed you every remaining piece of food on offer…”

  “It’s barely three o’clock.”

  They nodded once, simultaneously, the decision made.

  Anna shuffled back a little, plumped a couple of cushions behind her, and rested against the sofa. “You all right over there?”

  “Very comfy, thank you,” Ollie replied. They continued to eat the pies and cream, handing the bowl back and forth.

  “Honestly, Ollie, this was so lovely,” Anna said after all the food was gone and Ollie had rested down on her side with her head in her hand.

  “I’m going to have to agree with you,” Ollie said, then seemed to take it back. “The turkey was good.”

  “Where did you purchase our Christmas picnic from, anyway?”

  “Local butcher does a pack of various things, including potatoes and a seasoning mix. I just figured wedges would be more finger-friendly than roasties.”

  “The parcels, though,” Anna said, before her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

  Ollie fiddled with the napkin between her fingers. The knuckles of her other hand were tense in her hair.

  “Kudos to your culinary skills.”

  “I don’t cook a lot.”

  When Anna reached out and rubbed her forearm, Ollie stopped pulling at the napkin. The log burner had quietened somewhat. It was simply glowing embers now and had made the flat fairly warm. The present Anna had brought appeared in Ollie’s lap. Then Ollie turned back to the tree and threw up her hands in mock surprise.

  “But what have we got here?” she said in a high-pitched, overdone voice.

  Anna laughed and took the larger parcel from Ollie. The fluttering started again in her belly. Ollie nodded once, an affirmation, and they both ripped into the presents.

  A grin spread across Ollie’s face as sh
e got hers open first. She held it up, turned it over, and put one hand inside to hold it up. She immediately hauled herself to her feet, groaning as she did, but her expression was like a kid’s with a new toy. She hopped into the kitchen and brought her teapot and the cosy back to their colourful nest. She sat and dusted the top with her sleeve until it shone. Then she carefully pulled the cosy onto the pot, guiding the spout and handle through the holes.

  All the breath seemed trapped in Anna’s lungs as Ollie turned it back and forth.

  “It’s beautiful, Anna.” She examined every side of the tea cosy, fingering the flowers, the leaves, and the butterfly. “Absolutely beautiful.”

  “I wasn’t…” Anna cleared her throat as her stomach fizzed. “I wasn’t sure if it would fit or…or if you’d like it.” She fiddled with the edge of the paper in her lap, her present not yet revealed.

  Ollie shuffled over and pressed a kiss to Anna’s forehead, her fingers gentle on her cheek. “I love it. It’s perfect.” She pulled away and focused back on the cosy.

  “I have a confession to make.” Anna bit her lip. “When I asked for Matthew’s number weeks ago, it wasn’t for Beth. It was for me.” She tried to gauge Ollie’s reaction. “I wanted to ask for his opinion. For colours and…and the style.”

  “I did wonder,” Ollie said, still grinning. “Is that why you haven’t been to the class for a couple of weeks?”

  “That’s right.” Anna put a hand to her own hot cheek. “I wanted to work on it, make it perfect.”

  “And look how well it fits,” Ollie said, holding up the pot again.

  Anna dropped her hand to her lap. “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Her stomach settled. She genuinely liked it.

  Ollie sat back and stroked the flowers on the tea cosy for a while with absentminded movements. Then she dipped her head towards Anna’s present. “Come on. Now you.”

  Whatever was underneath the paper of Anna’s present was squishy. She ripped it open and allowed the contents inside to fall onto her knee. A burgundy shawl, made using incredibly fine yarn, soft as rabbit fur, sat in her hands, its tiny shell-shaped rows lining the edges. Anna gazed at it, motionless, and then lifted a finger to one of the shells. She traced each stitch, tinier than she’d ever seen, intricate patterns swirling round and around. She couldn’t work out the individual stitches, could only see the finished piece. So much work must have gone into it.

  “Wow,” she said, her voice breathy.

  Ollie watched her, a soft smile on her face.

  “God.” Anna’s palm covered her cheek in wonder.

  “I prefer ‘Ollie’.” Her lips twisted with amusement.

  Anna finally tore her gaze from the shawl and looked at the woman sat in front of her, whose foot was bouncing up and down. “It’s just…” She struggled to form words, let alone full sentences. Dropping her gaze back to her lap, she swiftly crossed her hands over her front and pulled off the silly Christmas jumper. The shawl was cosy when she slid it around her shoulders, the soft yarn pressing snugly against her cheek. She closed her eyes.

  She felt Ollie take one corner of the shawl and tuck it across the other side of her neck. Fingertips brushed over Anna’s exposed collarbone. She opened her eyes and grabbed for Ollie, holding her cheeks in both hands, kissing her full on the mouth.

  A moan escaped from her as Ollie fell awkwardly against her, but she didn’t care in the slightest. Ollie settled next to her on one hip, and they kissed and kissed, tongues sweeping and touching in mid-air.

  Anna trailed her hands down, one at Ollie’s neck, the other around her waist. I think I love her. I think that’s what this feeling is.

  Ollie broke the kiss, started to move back, but Anna leant up and captured her lips again, drawing her back down. Ollie hummed against her, one hand clutching at her hip, the other disappearing behind Anna’s head. Then she pulled her lips from Anna’s but stayed close, touching her face with a fingertip.

  “I’m guessing from that rather…exuberant reaction…” She was panting a little, Anna realised. “…that you like the shawl?”

  “I love it,” Anna replied and reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind Ollie’s ear.

  Ollie sat back and grimaced. Her knee was obviously complaining.

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said, kneeling up and putting a hand to Ollie’s thigh, her bad one. “I shouldn’t have…”

  “Thrown yourself at me?” Ollie asked, a glint in her eye.

  “I was trying to convey a sentiment.”

  Ollie smiled. “Sentiment understood.”

  A wave of heat rolled over Anna, so she shrugged off the shawl and folded it back up. She flapped a hand in front of her face.

  “This will be perfect for keeping me warm,” she said. “But your log burner and my hormones are doing rather a good job of that right this second, so…” She placed the shawl away from the fire, on top of the wrapping paper it came in. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Anna looked around at their empty plates and trays. “Maybe we should get this cleared up.”

  “Did you…um.” Ollie clambered to her feet and followed Anna into the kitchen area, arms full of their dinner things. “Would you like to watch a film in a bit?”

  Anna started to fill the basin full of warm soapy water and took Ollie’s washing-up gloves from the little hook by the window. “That sounds lovely. So long as we can make use of the picnic area. That is, if you’re comfortable down there.”

  They washed up and cleared away. Ollie went to rearrange the cushions so they would cradle them against the sofa, then went to her DVD collection and chose one. She held it up and Anna nodded. “It’s the recent one, you know with the little girl who played Matilda?”

  “That’s fine. I always preferred that one anyway. Richard Attenborough.”

  “The music is more festive too.”

  The folded-up shawl was soft under her fingers as Anna sat against the cushions.

  Ollie smiled at her careful touch and pulled up the thick pair of white socks she wore over her leggings. She stepped around the room, lighting a few candles and adding another small log to the fire. She turned off the main light, leaving the room lit only by the fire and candles and the television. She dropped down next to Anna, and Anna held her arm up in silent invitation. Ollie crawled to snuggle underneath it, resting her head on Anna’s shoulder. She smelled apples and sighed. She always smells so good. Anna pressed a kiss against her forehead as the film started.

  A few minutes of fidgeting meant Ollie found a position she was comfortable with—on her side, with her bad leg bent up over Anna’s knee and her arm around Anna’s waist. Anna caressed her shoulder when Ollie shifted around, as though to tell her wordlessly that her fidgeting was okay. The fire crackled next to them, and the candles spluttered on occasion.

  There’s that safe feeling again. Ollie closed her eyes for a moment as she allowed the feeling to spread through her.

  Drawn into the film’s touching story, after several minutes Ollie barely noticed when Anna’s fingers started a gentle circling on her neck, and her own fingers started a similar caress in response on Anna’s waist. But when Anna’s hand slid up into the short hair at the base of Ollie’s neck, Ollie couldn’t miss that. The caress sent shivers all down her torso.

  Anna’s hand went still. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t stop,” Ollie whispered back.

  There was a pause, and then Anna’s fingertips began to caress Ollie’s neck again. Ollie snuggled further in. She carefully and slowly swirled her own fingers in little circles against the dip of Anna’s waist, gentle enough for it not to tickle but firm enough for Anna to know it wasn’t accidental. The circles got bigger, and Ollie’s fingertips slipped under the hem of Anna’s blouse to touch her soft skin.


  Anna stretched a little, but she burrowed her own nose further in Ollie’s hair so Ollie didn’t stop. They went on like this for a while, slowly and gently touching one another’s skin, in no hurry to go anywhere with it. Ollie then took a chance and moved her fingertips upwards. She touched the side of Anna’s bra, pushing her blouse up a little in the process. The cup was warm and contained a wire. Anna’s breath hitched.

  She brought her fingers down again and trailed circles against her waist. Starting a rhythm, up and down, she smoothed them against Anna’s pliant skin; it reminded her that Anna was curvy, so unlike her own wiry and skinny frame. When Anna’s breath deepened, Ollie’s fingers moved down her spine and curled around Anna’s waist. It was an opportunity to slide her fingers around to Anna’s belly, to touch at the waistband of her grey trousers, and she took it gently, gradually, respectfully. She tickled upwards, undoing the bottom button of Anna’s blouse with one hand. With a glance upwards, she noticed that Anna’s attention still appeared to be on the film, but she had a small smile on her face. Ollie sat up a little to look at her properly.

  “May I?” Ollie’s fingers stilled at Anna’s second button.

  Anna turned away from the television and treated Ollie to that toothy, wide smile of hers. She nodded.

  She kept Anna’s gaze as she unbuttoned the next three, slowly, all the while with Anna’s arm around her. Ollie’s hand at her waist kept tracing patterns on little bits of exposed skin.

  Eventually, Anna turned around to fully face her and gathered Ollie’s tunic above her hip, her intention shy but clear. She touched Ollie’s bare skin, making Ollie sigh and dip her head forward. They kissed gently. Ollie continued to undo Anna’s blouse buttons until she had completed her task. Breaking the kiss, she looked into Anna’s eyes and found they had gone a deep green.

  Ollie traced a wandering line down Anna’s front, over the middle of her bra and down to her navel. She then went back up the same path, pushing away one side then the other of the blouse, exposing Anna’s black bra. Ollie looked down, and Anna cupped her cheek as Ollie just stared at her for a long moment. Finally Ollie lowered her head to press a small kiss against Anna’s neck.