by Amy Rose
Looking at his watch to confirm the time he responds, “Sounds like a plan. The fridge is fully stocked in preparation for tomorrow, so let’s go throw something together.”
We walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. He wasn’t overstating when he said the fridge was fully stocked. It is almost overflowing with fruits and vegetables, a turkey that is already on a baking tray with onions and garlic around it; on closer inspection it had also already been stuffed, no doubt thanks to Andrew. Elliot retrieves a couple of tomatoes from the crisper, a block of cheese and a leg of ham. “Feel like a toasted sandwich? I figure we are going to eat our weight in food tomorrow.”
I grab the fresh loaf of crusty bread from the pantry and place it on the kitchen island. “Sounds great. I’ll get the toaster” I find what I am looking for in the large cupboard next to the oven. We set to work toasting bread and slicing tomatoes. While waiting, I select two glasses and fill them with filtered water from the fridge. Elliot pulls his carving knife from the block and commences slicing the ham. The toast slices pop and I butter them, layering the ingredients and finishing with salt and pepper. We eat these while standing in the kitchen. Once we have eaten our fill, I load the dishwasher with all of our dirty dishes. “Should we prepare any of tomorrow’s meals?” I ask.
“I’ll put the turkey in the oven early tomorrow morning. Andrew made sure to tell me to give it at least two hours. We can prepare dessert in the morning too. Trifle or pavlova. I have the ingredients for both.”
I rub my hands together in eagerness, hearing those yummy desserts. “I can prepare them tomorrow morning, no problem. What time are your family arriving?” I am hoping not too early. I don’t want them hovering while we are cooking.
“When we spoke last, they mentioned around 10:00 am. That way we have time to open our presents prior to eating lunch.” He looks over at our pile of gift bags which he had moved to the dining table. “Speaking of gifts, I still need to wrap a few items. Want to help me?”
“Of course. Where do you keep your wrapping paper and tape?” I ask. He wanders away and comes back a few minutes later with a long bag. I meet him as he places it on the table and opens it. Inside are several rolls of Christmas paper, some ribbons, gift tags and tape. We then pull out the gifts that still need wrapping; a Canon Camera and two lenses, a Nespresso coffee machine with several packets of coffee pods, two Apple iPads, and a few smaller items that Elliot referred to as stocking fillers: wallets, ties, scarves and a couple of board games.
We set to work wrapping the larger items first and then continuing on with the smaller ones. For the better part of an hour we are concentrating on the task at hand. I wrap and add ribbon and then I pass them over to Elliot so he can write on the labels, since they were for his family. I do notice that each time he signs the label ‘Love Elliot & Angela,’ I feel my cheeks go red and a smile forming on my face. He, of course, chooses that moment to look over at me and see my facial expression. “What are you smiling about?” he asks.
“I’m just surprised you’re signing from both of us when, in fact, you purchased them all with your money.”
He shrugs when I finish speaking, “You helped pick them out, therefore they are from you, too.”
I want to make a comment about how that didn’t matter, instead I go smartass instead, and change the subject. “Am I wrapping any of my own gifts?”
His answering smile is gorgeous, “I wouldn’t do that. I already wrapped yours and placed them under the tree among the others.” He indicates with his hand the beautifully decorated tree in the corner of the room with presents galore underneath. I stand up from the table and make an attempt to walk over to the tree, but his hand snakes out and grabs me before I get farther then two steps. “No snooping,” he chastises me in a playful way.
“Okay, I promise I won’t snoop.”
I gather up an armful of parcels and walk over to the edge of the tree and place them among the others, only glancing at the others looking for my name. I don’t see it once. Elliot is beside me with the remaining gifts and I pluck them out of his arms and set them in too. “All done. Do you want to watch a movie before bed?” he asks.
It was far too early to go to sleep yet, and since I don’t have any other ideas on how to fill in the evening, I decide how can I refuse? “Sounds like a plan. What are you thinking about watching?”
He leads me into his media room, a soundproofed room attached to the main hallway. His large television takes up residence on the main wall, and underneath is a cabinet running the full length of the room at knee height. He slides open one end of the cabinet and it folds to the middle; he then completes the same action on the other end with the two folds coming together in the center. The cabinet appears to be full, but the lack of light makes it hard to make out what is inside. He then steps back and turns on the light so we can see better. It is revealed that the cabinets are full of DVDs, hundreds of them in fact.
I kneel on the ground in front of the cabinet to get a closer look and soon discover they are alphabetized. And if there is a collection like the Lord of The Rings trilogy, which I notice immediately as it is one of my favorites, they are all together. “Are all of these movies?” I ask, waving my hand at the array of cases in front of me.
“Not all of them. I have some television series too. Mainly on this side” he positions his hand towards the right-hand side of the cabinet.
“I thought I had a collection, but it’s got nothing on yours” I find several titles that are familiar to me at once, and quite a few I also have back home. It is quite a diverse collection; comedies are quite plentiful, as are actions, a couple of horror films I have heard of are sitting together which I quickly scan past, not being a fan of the genre. Animations and romantic comedies are also present, however not in as great a number.
I do notice that there are quite a few classics: Casablanca, Citizen Kane, The Wizard of Oz, all films that are timeless. By the time I reach the television series part of the cabinet I am sure to see a variety and that is indeed the case. I run my hand along the spines of the cases looking at each of the titles. If I had looked at every single DVD in those cabinets, it would have taken me at least an hour. Instead I sit back on my heels and hold my hands up in a gesture of not knowing. “I don’t know what to pick—your collection is so diverse.”
He clicks his tongue in response. “That it is. I enjoy watching movies. It’s how I spend most of my weekends. That’s why I have a large collection. I have seen every one of these at least once.”
“I believe that you have. Is it’s lady’s choice then?” I wiggle my eyebrows hoping he will say yes. I can see the movie I want to watch: the talented Sandra Bullock and the dashing Ryan Reynolds.
“Sure, you choose.”
As soon as he says yes, I lean back and snatch out “The Proposal.” It is one of my favorites. “I have seen this movie a few times and it always makes me laugh.” I pass the DVD to Elliot to set it up. I stand up and make my way to the oversized couch, I sit down, and it is amazingly comfortable. I push myself back into the cushions and draw my feet up at my right, there is plenty of room on my left if he wants to sit by me, however I also leave both single chairs, too, just in case he wants space.
Once the DVD previews are playing on the screen, Elliot dims the lights and comes to sit next to me on the couch, leaving his legs overhanging the seat. “I may or may not quote this movie, word for word. Just wanted to give you a heads up.” I can’t help but laugh at his statement “What’s so funny?” he asks.
Once I get my laughter under control I say, “Don’t worry, it’s possible I will, too.” My laughter starts again and he joins in with me.
We watch the movie together, laughing and quoting several lines of the film. By the time the end credits are rolling across the screen I am leaning against him with his arm around my waist, as we enjoy the warmth of each other’s bodies. The disc menu pops up along with the accompanying music which indicates it is time to either pu
t another movie on or head to bed.
“Well I for one am ready to go to bed and hold you in my arms.” Ever the romantic, I have to smile. I want that too.
“I agree, let’s go.” Once Elliot has switched off everything and checked that the fire has indeed gone out, we make our way to exit. Just as we open the French doors, he pulls against my hand.
“I just have to get something to sleep in. I won’t be a minute. Go ahead if you like.” He kisses my forehead and turns to make his way to his bedroom. Deciding it best I head off too and get into my pjs. I make my way back to the guest house and turn the bedside lamp on before changing into the white satin nightgown. I remove my jewelry except for my new necklace. I brush my teeth and spray a small amount of perfume onto the comb before pulling it through my hair. After completing my cleansing routine, I leave the bathroom and sit on the bed.
I hear the front door open and wait for him to enter the room. He, too, is dressed for bed in a short-sleeved white t-shirt and faded black pajama pants. The cut of the top shows his bicep muscles. Looking at them makes the muscles in the pit of my stomach clench.
He walks over to the bed and pulls the covers back on his side before lying down. “Well then, it’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve and my dearest wish is to hold you all night and awake with you in my arms. Shall you grant me this wish, Miss White?”
I smile down at him. “Hmmm, I think I can make that happen, Mr. Sands.” I stand beside the bed and pull the covers back before switching off the lamp and sliding into bed, crawling over until I find my spot in his open arms. I snuggle into his side and make myself comfortable in the crook of his collarbone where I fit so well.
I wrap my arm around his torso, he makes a content noise. “Comfortable?” I ask.
I can feel him nod and kissing the top of my head before replying, “Very. And you?”
I kiss the base of his neck in response. “Perfect.” We lay quiet for a few minutes. I can feel the drowsiness about to encapsulate me, on the edge of sleep I speak once more. “Elliot.”
His reply is more noise than any specific word.
“I love you.”
I feel his warm exhale come across my face. “And I love you, Angela.”
~ Chapter Fifteen ~
Angela
I wake the next morning wrapped in Elliot’s arms and legs. I try not to move right away, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around me. However, the need to stretch overcomes me and I let my legs curl out to full length.
“Morning,” comes from behind me. Elliot is already awake.
“Hey,” I reply. “Merry Christmas, Elliot.” I turn over to face him. Looking him in the face, I smile.
His face matches mine a moment later. “Merry Christmas, Angie.” He leans in and softly kisses me, nothing more than a tender kiss, and he pulls away.
“I got my wish. You’re here in my arms.” He pulls me closer, as though to confirm his words.
“Sure am,” I reply. Snuggling in closer to him, I lay my head on his shoulder blade. “What time is it?”
I feel him kissing my hair. “It’s 7:30 am. Why?”
“Just wanted to make sure we have time to bake the turkey and make the desserts before your family arrives. Also, I want to give you your other present.” With that said, I jump out of his arms and run to the dining table, grabbing the gift-boxed sweater in my hands and turning to re-enter the bedroom.
I stop in the doorway. Elliot is sitting up in bed cross-legged, waiting for me. He pats the place next to him an unspoken invitation to join him. I walk slowly toward the space he has indicated and take my spot, thankful that the nightgown has enough give to cross my legs without showing any skin.
I hand him the present. “Thank you, baby.” He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles before releasing them. He grabs the present and pulls on the ribbon to unravel it. Once it falls away from the box, he lifts the lid and places it beside him on the bed. He lifts the tissue paper revealing the hint of green. He pinches the fabric between his forefinger and thumb of both hands and raises it out of the box. His face gives nothing away as he drops the sweater into his lap. “This is great. Thanks, baby. I’m going to wear it today.” The tone of his voice hides something, I can’t tell what.
“I’m glad you like it.”
He smiles at my statement. “I don’t like it baby. I love it. You have been so generous with the sweater and the photo. I’m so thankful.” He leans across and takes my face between his two hands and kisses me. Not like earlier; this one is deeper. He kisses me firmly, his weight against me is making me lean backwards and before I know it, I’m lying down on the bed with his weight on top of me. Our lips and tongues play with each other. Seconds later I feel my body going into defense mode; before I can stop it, my arms push against his chest hard. He pulls right away at my touch and lifts his body above mine. His arms on either side of my shoulders caging me in, he looks me in the eyes. “I promise I wasn’t going to do anything more than kiss you.” His eyes show nothing but worry.
“It’s not you, Elliot. I was really enjoying that kiss. My body reacted, protecting myself. I’m sorry.”
I have no idea why my body chose this moment to react, having allowed many other similar moments between us happen in the past.
I pull my arms from my chest and raise them to encircle his neck. I pull him closer to me and I kiss him. A kiss that I am pouring my feelings into, showing him that I care about him, about us. I bite his bottom lip gently; a moan escapes the back of his throat and his body moves back down to press against my own. I push my tongue in between his lips and explore his mouth. I run my tongue over the line of his teeth. His tongue joins in the dance and I feel his hot breath against my own. My arms lower from his neck and glide over his shoulders down to his biceps, which are flexed. I give them a squeeze. At this, his mouth leaves my own and kisses the edge of my lips and along my jawbone to my neck. I turn my neck to give him more access and he takes it, lowering himself to my collarbone and kissing along the neckline of my nightgown. Following the same path upwards on the other side, he finds my lips again. Planting a soft peck, he pulls away and sits up. “I better stop. Things are stirring within me and if I don’t stop now, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” At this, he stands up and enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I sit up in the bed and watch the bathroom door, his confession of his feelings makes me feel great, and not alone. I feel the area south of my hips clench at the thought of more with this man. It’s something I have never even considered before, certainly not with Dylan, and yet here in this bed, two months into a relationship with Elliot I’m having thoughts once again about sex. I want to wrap our bodies together in this bed and spend the day here and feel things with him, explore his body and let him discover mine.
I drop my hand and lift the hem of my gown, I stop at my underwear, and slip my finger underneath the edge and feel my most private part. It’s wet, very wet.
I hear the door handle move. I snag my finger back quickly. If this is how he makes me feel by only kissing, how on earth would I feel if we were to go further? I imagine lying together naked, touching each other all over. I’m a grown adult. I sure as hell can do this with another person, someone I love. I hope he didn’t see me touch myself.
He walks over to the bed and leans down to kiss my forehead. “Don’t worry, you do the same thing to me. I’m going to go get ready. Why don’t you do the same thing and then join me. Your other presents are under the tree.” He kisses me on the lips quickly, and then walks out of the room. I hear the thud of the front door and I know that he has left.
I extract myself from the bed and hit the shower, remembering the way he kissed me no more than ten minutes earlier. I find my hands make their way down south and begin pleasuring myself. Once I’m finished, I exit the shower and begin the process of getting ready. I select my long-sleeve green dress from the suitcase, it’s something I wear to work Christmas parties sometimes, it’s the sam
e dress that I wore to my Christmas party with Elliot only a few days ago, just a lighter shade of green. It’s professional when need be, and today it will be more casual. I team it with nude tights and white ankle boots. I blow dry my hair and style it in soft curls and apply minimal make up except for my eyes, eyeliner and lots of mascara. After all, it’s not just Elliot and me today. I need to make a good impression on his family, especially his sister, who I haven’t met before. His parents seemed polite enough the last time, but this is a family day. How are they going to feel about my joining them?
Satisfied with the woman looking back at me in the mirror, I spray perfume and brush my teeth. Heading back to the bedroom, I notice Elliot must have been back for his sweater, as the box and contents are nowhere to be seen. I pull back the covers of the bed and make it neat. I tidy up all my items and place them in my suitcase and lock it. Bedroom all clean, I make sure the remainder of the house is also in the same condition. Happy with how it all appears, I grab my small bag with my phone and keys and wander over to Elliot’s home.
Instead of walking through the back entrance like I normally would, I decide to knock at the front door. Knowing that he won’t expect it to be me, I wait patiently. He opens the door and smiles when he sees me. “What are you doing out here? Come inside.” He reaches his hand out to take mine and pulls me in, closing the door behind me. He pushes me up against the door and kisses me with passion. I wrap my arms around his waist and give as good as I’m getting. We are all lips and tongues and arms and bodies pressing against each other.
Elliot pulls away and shakes his head. “What you do to me, Angela White.”
I giggle in response, feeling a blush form on my cheeks. I shrug my shoulders and smile. “Let’s go get the food ready before we cancel the whole day.” I walk ahead of him not wanting to look at him while he processes what I have just said. I get to the kitchen and open the fridge, noticing the pavlova is sitting there, already decorated. I start pulling out all the ingredients for trifle.
