The promise of December

by K. L. Jessop

  “So you say he’s sexy?” Evie asks, stirring the spoon in her hot chocolate.

  “Yes. Sinfully.”

  “But you can’t remember what happened?”

  “No, not really.”

  She takes a sip of her drink. “Did you wake up naked?”

  “No, I had my shirt on.” I’m still feeling confused about the whole situation and the more I think about it the more my brain hurts.

  “Panties?”

  “Yes, very much intact.”

  “Well, then nothing happened.”

  I’d already thought about this. Maybe he did just escort me home and put me to bed. But every now and then my over-reactive mind can’t help but question. “What if he put them back on?”

  “What?”

  “What if we fucked, he cleaned me up and put them back on like nothing had happened.”

  She looks at me like I’m some crazy person. “That is the dumbest shit I’ve heard in like forever. Do you really think he’d stick around for the rest of the night and make you coffee the next morning if he’d done that?”

  “Guess not.” I finish my hot chocolate and place my mug to the side, feeling the effects of last night finally wear off with the full English Evie bought me for lunch. “I can’t get him out my head. My house felt too big when he left.”

  “Wow, he must have been one sexy Santa?”

  “He was.” I sigh. “But he comes with a possible added complication.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s Harold Thompson’s son.” I give her a knowing look as I let the words settle. Once her eyes spring wide I know she understands me loud and clear.

  “Oh wow.”

  I just get out from having a long soak in the bath when I hear a confident knock on my front door. Knowing it isn’t Evie, as she’s out with friends, one can only assume it’s the local group from the community hall doing their yearly Carol singing to raise money for the Hall roof that seems to have the same leak it did five years ago. Sighing in frustration, I wrap my short silky robe tighter around my waist and stroll to the door. My hair freshly washed, face makeup free and toes all snug and warm in my long winter socks that's pulled up to the knee. Once I open the door, I want to die with embarrassment.

  “Noel… You’re back?” He holds up the item in his hand. “With wine.”

  “I thought after leaving you a little fragile this morning, I’d come and spend the evening with you?” He smiles. Oh god, that smile.

  “Because?”

  “Because you’re probably not doing anything other than sitting on your own and cursing Christmas.”

  He was absolutely right but I frown anyway. “I don’t hate Christmas.”

  “And you’re also a rubbish liar.” His eyes fall over my body and I feel them everywhere. Tingles run down my spine but I put this down to the cold that’s currently sweeping its way up under my robe. But even that doesn’t cool the hotness I feel for him between my thighs. There is something about this man that makes my body react even when I fight it not to.

  His grin widens as he focuses on my legs. “Excellent choice of socks, Miss King.”

  I look down at the long red and grey patterned wool and wiggle my toes. “Thank you. I like my legs to be warm.” His brown eyes are looking right at me once I bring my head back up. He’s delicious. The smell of his citrus fragrance hits my senses as he leans in close, resting a shoulder on the door frame, still wearing that smile.

  “It’s a little cold out here, Tamzin.” His voice is low and dreamy. “This is where you invite me in so we can share a drink and get to know each other better.”

  My heart instantly speeds up. “And why would I want to do that?” I murmur.

  “Because you can’t seem to keep your eyes off me.” Jesus, he’s full of himself. I roll my eyes and open the door a little wider for him to enter but not far enough that he can pass with ease. He brushes against me, never taking his eyes off mine. My breath catches when his hand placed the bareness of my thigh as he whispers. “Thank you, Tami.”

  No one calls me Tami; it irritates the shit out of me, yet it rolls off his tongue like perfection. I like it.

  He makes his way into my kitchen and places the bottle of red on the counter, opening the white unit doors to find the glasses. It’s like he never left.

  “Is this some kind of fetish you have, looking through drawers and cupboards?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you always raid other people’s cupboards like you’ve done mine the two times you’ve been here?”

  He stops and turns, placing the glasses he’s found on the countertop and smiles as he pours. “You said to make myself at home.”

  “And when was that exactly?”

  “Last night. Does it bother you?” Strangely enough, no. I shrug my shoulders in response as he hands me my wine. I always adored a man in smart clothes. His sharp black coat makes him look sophisticated, yet his dark jeans and grey jumper makes him look pleasantly appealing on the eye. For the twenty-eight-year-old that he is, Noel Thompson looks just as sexy in clothes as he does half naked.

  I know a little more of him now. Purely because I couldn’t stop thinking of him so I checked out his profile on the work web page. He’s a family man. Photos of him and his brothers are on the information section of the website. Mr Thompson my boss is also pictured with him too as they provided a friendly FAQ video for viewers. Noel seems to be a guy that doesn’t shy away from getting what he wants and his magnetism is working spectacular with me.

  “You’re doing it again.” He says, breaking me from my trance.

  “Doing what?”

  “Checking me out.”

  “Jesus your ego must be on fire,” I say sarcastically, leaving him standing in the kitchen as I head to the living room. The soft glow of the lamp and open fire provides a dreamy feel and I wonder if that was such a good idea. He’s removed his coat when he enters. Sitting beside me on the other end of the cream sofa as questions flood my mind. “So why are you really here?”

  “Like I said, I want to get to know you better than I already have and I—”

  “Did we fuck?” I could have slapped myself. Hard. The question blurts out my mouth before I have any chance of stopping it, his facial expression is priceless. “I mean. I don’t—”

  “Remember?” His tone is stern as he holds my stare but I can’t work out if he is pissed with me or playing me. “Tamzin, you were very drunk. You were sick. I helped you home, put you to bed and made sure you were safe. Nothing happened. I’m not some fucking predator that goes around hitting on unconscious women just to get a lay.” Ok, so he is pissed.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur. His brown eyes almost look hurt as I look away, feeling like a naughty school girl that’s just been reprimanded by her teacher. “I never thought… I just.” I lift my head with a confident gaze, wanting to see his expression and distinguish if he was talking truth, even though he already had my trust. “I have every right to ask, Noel. I was drunk and you were here. I’m not going to freak out if we had it’s just—”

  “What?” his voice is sincerer now.

  I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back my smile. “I would have like to have remembered.”

  I swear to god he has the sexiest grin on earth. “Oh, Tami, believe me, you would’ve remembered.”

  My brows rise. “Confident about that?”

  “Absolutely. No woman is left unsatisfied when I’m around.”

  “Steady, that ego is growing again.”

  He chuckles. His eyes are always on me. Like I am literally the only thing in the room. “So you’ve been thinking about it?”

  “What?”

  “Fucking me.”

  I splutter out a little giggle and shake my head, “Oh god there is no stopping with you.” Yes, I have been thinking about it. Who wouldn’t be knowing how sculpted his chest and arms are. Taking my glass to my lips I drink my wine and I watch him. Confident and controlled, yet enjoying t
he rush of yearning that runs through me. “So you want to get to know me better?”

  “I do.”

  “My work profile not enough for you, Mr Thompson?”

  “I wouldn’t be here now if it was.”

  We talked freely about work, what his plans are for the future once he takes over the company and who he’d really like to fire because they annoy the shit out of him. He makes me laugh. It feels good. Real. It makes me realise how much I miss it. “What about Dave?” I question as he gets up to refill our glasses. “Would you keep him?”

  “Well, as dorky as he is, he’s an excellent worker. I think I’ll keep him but ban him from future work parties.”

  “Or just chop his hands off. They have a tendency to run away with themselves when women walk by.”

  “True.” He says on his return. “So, I have a question. Why haven’t you got your tree up?”

  “Not everyone puts their tree up the first week in December, Noel.”

  “I do.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m delighted for you really.”

  I like what is happening between us, this casual banter as if we’ve been friends for years. Now not caring that I’m sat here a freshly bathed mess wearing only my robe and long socks. I wonder if his powerful eyes have the strength to see right through my robe, to see that under the black material, I am in fact completely nude. The thought sends a thrill through me.

  “It’s an old family tradition in our house. The tree’s always up the first week, present shopping had to be more or less finished the second week so the rest of the time would be spent as a family enjoying the build-up and excitement to the big day.” His enthusiasm is visible.

  “You still like doing that?”

  “Yeah.”

  I can remember a time when I did. “My grandparents were the same. My gran was always organised. She used to say it was like looking after two kids because Grandpa was just as excited as I was.” I smile, thinking back to the happier memories. “She was just as bad, though, I often caught her dancing in the kitchen when she baked. Singing along to Christmas music as the house smelt of homemade pastries.” It suddenly hits me that since Noel’s arrived I’ve forgotten that they were gone. Guilt grips my stomach and my mood swiftly dampens. Then he makes it worse by asking the unbearable question.

  “So what’s stopping you from having that enjoyment again?”

  Noel.

  The more I mention it, the more I notice her irritation. There is no doubt that she finds the whole situation hard but I want her to talk. So I just keep on pushing. “What’s stopping you, Tamzin?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just leave it.”

  “Tell me.” I move my body slightly, tipping my head to try and gain eye contact. “Why don’t you like Christmas?”

  “Not everyone is a fan of Christmas, Noel. And not everyone wants it,” she snaps.

  “But you do want it. I can see that you do.”

  “Maybe once but not anymore.”

  “What kind of explanation is that?” I scoff.

  “Jesus, Noel!” She jumps up from her seat, throwing the cushion down and walking across the room. “Things happen all the time. Life goes on and dreams get shattered, it doesn’t all stop just because it’s fucking Christmas. Yes, when I was a little girl I believed in all of it. I loved December and Christmas and the magic more than you’ll ever know. Then I became an adult and I soon learned that life is tough and now there’s no point in believing if they’re not here to share it with me!” She is shaking, her face red but there are no tears. I keep my voice level.

  “You’re right. Life does go on. But, Tamzin, you can’t keep punishing yourself for having a good time because your grandparents aren’t here. Do you really think they’d want this for you?”

  “You don’t know anything about them!” I feel like an ass. I really do. But shit, she’s even sexier when she’s angry.

  “No, I don’t. But what I do know is if they loved Christmas as much as you say they did, then I know enough to say they wouldn’t want to see you like this.” Her glare is powerful but I can see she’s fighting. I never came here for this. I came here to do the opposite. Placing my glass on the table, I go to her. I don’t hesitate, I reach out and run my hand down her arm but she turns away from me. She smells like fresh flowers. I step closer to invade her warm proximity, my back to her front. “Spend Christmas with me,” I murmur.

  “No.”

  “Why? What else do you plan on doing other than drinking yourself to oblivion?” She turns her head to look at me. “Tamzin, it’s just a few weeks.”

  “Last time I checked Christmas was only a day.”

  “That’s not the way I see it. What have you got to lose?”

  “My sanity!” Her sarcasm isn’t working with me. I know she wants this. Her voice is no longer heated, there is optimism in her eyes, her body language has softened, and the air between us has become less tense and more desired. “It’s not that I hate Christmas, it’s just I don’t know how to handle it.”

  I’m a man that fights for what he wants and I’m not leaving until I have just that. I place my hands on her hips, noticing her sharp inhale. “Spend. The. Month. With. Me.”

  “And you’ll do what exactly?”

  “Spend December with me and I promise I’ll find you your Christmas.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “Other than being in my bed there isn’t one.”

  Her brows rise. “Since when did sex become part of finding me my Christmas?”

  “When is sex never not part of anything?” I grin. I move closer, my face losing its grin as I focus on my proposal. “I know you want this. I know you want an escape from your hurt. From the solitude. Let me take care of that, Tamzin.”

  Her response is just a heated gaze. Deep, and one that draws me in more than I already am. A slight tremble leaves her body as she falls further into my hold, as though my touch melts away all the discomfort inside of her. Beautiful grey eyes turn smoky with need as they focus on my lips. My cock twitches in my jeans, wanting to be buried deep inside her. She’s so fucking sexy, even in her long winter socks and short silky robe that my eyes have been fighting with all night. I cup her jaw, bringing us closer as her breath hits mine. I knew as soon as I’d touched her lips she’d consume me.

  “This is insane,” she whispers.

  “Isn’t that all part of the fun?” Our lips connect, hers perfectly soft just like I knew they’d be. I kiss her again, wanting her to open up for me. My other hand slides around her waist, dipping into the small opening of her robe. That’s all it takes. I’m granted with the pleasure of her sweet tongue that entwines with mine. Her warm bare skin continues to greet my fingers the further I slide my hand until realisation sets in.

  She’s naked.

  A breathless moan leaves her when I circle my thumb over her perked nipple. Her arm curves around my neck for her fingers to lace the back of my hair, sending a shock of need straight to my cock. I move my hand down the flat of her stomach and rest just above her pubic bone.

  “Noel,” she whimpers.

  “I want you, Tamzin. The question is, do you want this?”

  “Yes,” she breathes, tilting her head so my lips press her neck. “Yes, I want this.”

  “Tell me what I need to hear.”

  “I’m yours.”

  Tamzin.

  With just one kiss he takes all my power and makes me fall, losing myself within him as he holds me to his firm body. His proposal should have been one that sent scenarios racing through my mind. That this random guy that walked into my home now wanted my body for his taking while he supposedly ‘brings back’ the gift that left me years ago. This whole situation is laughable. Yet I find myself agreeing to his request like I’ve been waiting on it for years. And if that hasn’t convinced me enough, his blistering touch on my bare skin does everything to make my knees weak and hungry for more. His embrace is just as confident as his vocal cords. He
knows exactly what he wants and won’t stop until it is achieved. His presence sends electricity through my veins, I’d be a fool not to want to spend a month with him. I can feel him hard against me and thirty-one days with him seems a lot more interesting than spending it alone and hating every hour that passes.

  “I want to touch you everywhere,” he breathes, kissing my neck as I become weaker, he lowers our bodies to the floor. I crave him. I am so hot. Delirious that this stranger I’ve known all of a few small hours can have this kind of impact on me. “It almost killed me last night knowing I couldn’t put my hands on you.” He says against my lips.

  “Then what’s stopping you now?”

  He smooths his hand over my waist. I rise into him when his tongue swirls my nipple through the opening of my robe, biting and sucking, giving each one faultless attention. His hand jerks to untie my belt while his mouth works over my skin. My own hands trail down the thickness of his sweater wanting to see the muscle I’ve missed looking at. “Take it off,” I demand. Once removed the heat from him is intoxicating, the need to feel him on me too great to handle.

  “Fuck, Tamzin” he hisses, sliding the black material open. I’m stripped bare, hungry and on the verge of desperation. The tip of his tongue descends from my navel to my pubic bone as he spreads my legs wide, my breathing is irrational, the heat of the open fire on my bare skin bubbles my blood like hot gold. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  “Please, Noel.” I’m so wet, my core aches for him. I’ve never felt desire like it. His lips trail a smouldering path up the inside of my thigh, teasing and tormenting me more. He peppers kisses back down to my knee, tracing with his fingers to where his lips have just been. “You’re not removing my socks?” I question.

  “I like them too much.”

  I can’t help the soft giggle. I’m wide open and ready on a dangerous level as he spreads me wider and I watch him through hooded eyes move in to feed his appetite. “You have a beautiful pussy, Tamzin.” His breath hits my tender skin. “I can’t wait to make it mine.”

  “Noel, please.” I’m practically begging.