Her Teddy Bear #3 (Erotic Romance) - Dress Up Your Teddy

by Strong, Mimi

  “And you've never done that with a girl?” As soon as I asked, I regretted it. A girl should never ask that unless she already knows the answer.

  “Never,” he said. “Except in my imagination.”

  “And was it good? The real-life version?”

  He kissed my neck, his stubbly chin tickling me. “Everything's good with you.”

  After we cuddled for a while, I ran us a hot bath and we settled in with a plate of Christmas cookies and a bottle of wine.

  We sat across from each other in the large tub, him with his knees up out of the water and me with my legs nearly straight. I tickled his chest with my feet and said, “I wish you weren't flying out of town tomorrow.”

  “I'll be back in three days. No time at all.”

  “Who are you seeing again? Your brother?”

  “My brother-in-law. Roxie's brother.”

  My heart nearly stopped beating. “Wait, you're going to see her family? Will she be there?”

  “We're still friends,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I'm not dead to them, you know. I had a relationship with them, too.”

  I grabbed my glass of wine and downed it. Don't be jealous, I told myself in my head. He's got to do this, maybe just this once, to get closure. Don't act like a psycho-girl.

  He grabbed a gingerbread cookie from the tray and bit off its head. “Is this what you want to do to me?” he joked. “Wanna bite off my head?” He splashed to sit up straight and waved the cookie over toward my mouth. “Here, bite off my arms, it'll make you feel better.”

  Something clicked in my head and all my new-found maturity ran out, just like that. I grabbed the cookie from his hand and tossed it across the room, against the tiled wall. The broken cookie bits crumbled to the ground.

  “Fine, we can talk about it,” he said. “Let's have a big talk. We can talk-talk-talk about all our feelings.”

  That was when I realized I wasn't such a big fan of talking about my feelings either. I leaned forward and squeezed his knee gently. “Trevor, I'm sorry I threw the cookie. Please don't stick things in my face. I don't want to fight with you. It's Christmas Eve, and you're going away for three days, and you know what? That's fine. Honest. I don't mind that much. It was just a surprise is all.”

  “You sure? I could cancel the trip. I don't need to go.”

  “Have you seen your brother-in-law since the separation?”

  “No.”

  “Then go. You obviously want to go, or you wouldn't have booked the trip.”

  “It was booked months ago.”

  I poured myself another glass of wine. “Trevor, either go or don't go. I'm not going to sit here and try to convince you to go spend time with Roxie's family. Let's not play that game.”

  “Okay.” He grabbed my feet and massaged the soles, but I was no longer feeling relaxed. I wasn't angry, and I wasn't sad, but I wasn't happy, either.

  I tried to push my hurt feelings aside. His ex was still in his life, but he loved me, and I just had to get used to it and believe him when he said I was the one he wanted to be with.

  Since that night in the hotel room, he'd told me every day that he loved me.

  So why did I still feel so insecure?

  Part 5: Christmas

  On Christmas day, Trevor drove me back to my house and dropped me off there before going to the airport. Traffic was light, so we arrived with time to spare.

  “Do you wanna come in?” I asked.

  “Not for ten minutes, just to leave again. It's probably better if I just go.”

  I leaned in to give him a kiss goodbye.

  He held me tight to him and said, “It's just three days. I'll be back in no time.”

  “I know.” I believed him, but I still felt like crying.

  I got out of the truck and resisted the urge to slam the door. Who was I kidding? Of course I was pissed, but I was trying to balance those strong emotions with reasoning.

  I walked into the house, which was full of aunties and uncles and cousins, and I lost myself in the festivities of the day. The house was full of the smell of Christmas baking and the sounds of laughter.

  While the men sat around talking in the living room and the women were at work with my mother in the kitchen, I was in charge of entertaining the kids, chasing them around and supervising games of Hide-and-Seek.

  Before long, we were all downstairs in my big bedroom, and the kids—boys and girls—were digging through my closet full of costumes to put on a fashion show for the adults. I took the corsets away from the fourteen-year-olds, much to their disappointment. “Maybe in four years,” I told them.

  Nikki came down from the kitchen and helped do hair and makeup.

  When we got a moment alone, she said, “I can't believe he fucking left you over Christmas. I'm going to punch him in the face.”

  “Nik, it's just three days. I'm okay, really.”

  “Really?”

  “I trust him. He probably got close to her family and it's a tough time for him. Last year, he was with her, and this year he isn't.”

  The sounds of laughter and games pooled over from upstairs and trickled into my bedroom.

  Nikki pointed at the ceiling. “He should be here with this wild bunch.”

  “You know, maybe that's part of the reason he's going away. Maybe he was scared of all this being overwhelming.”

  “Stop sounding so reasonable,” she said. “I'm mad at him, and you're really chipping away at my rage.”

  “I think part of being a grown-up is accepting that you don't always get your way, but you don't have to pitch a fit. Life goes on, you know? Compromise and stuff.”

  She made a funny face. “Look at you! Being all mature and shit.”

  I nodded. “Compromise and stuff,” I repeated.

  We went upstairs and got all the adults ready for the fashion show. The kids were adorable, as they are every year. We've got some great kids in our family, and adults, too. As I looked around the room, I realized we all had a lot of love to give.

  No matter what happened with Trevor, I'd always have my family.

  The day rushed by in a whirl, with a big gift exchange, and soon we had all the extra card tables set up as extensions, and we were passing around platters of turkey. Everyone was teasing my mother about the marshmallows on the sweet potatoes, because she'd used colored marshmallows instead of plain white ones.

  “They're festive!” she said, and everyone elbowed each other to take photos with their phones and upload them for friends to laugh at the multi-colored puffy lumps.

  The doorbell rang, and we all looked at each other.

  “Who could it be?” said my father. “Everyone we know is here!”

  One of my uncles said, “That'll be the pizza I ordered. I took one look at those rainbow potatoes and I knew I had to get us some backup food.”

  Everyone laughed, and then a hush fell over the room as they all looked up at someone behind me.

  I turned to find my boyfriend, Trevor MacIntyre, looking pale and sweaty.

  I jumped out of my chair. “Trevor! What's wrong? Are you okay?”

  He cracked a grin. “Everyone's fine. The airline wasn't very happy with me, and everyone had to go through security again with their bags, but everyone's fine.”

  I pulled him away from the crowd at the table, who were all politely pretending not to listen even as they were intently listening.

  He followed me down the hall to the office, and I closed the door behind us.

  I asked, “Did you have a fight with Roxie or something?”

  “Not at first, but after I told her I wasn't going, she wasn't too thrilled.”

  “I'm sorry I made such a fuss. I'm sorry I ruined everything.”

  He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “You didn't ruin anything. I nearly did, though, because I was being stupid. I get it now. Roxie's in the past, and you're my present.”

  He kissed me, crushing his lips—still cool from outside—in
to mine. I wanted the kiss to go on forever, and my mind was still reeling that he was actually there, with me, on Christmas day.

  He pulled back and said, “You're my future.”

  “I don't know. We've only been dating a couple of months. You don't need to make that commitment.”

  He caught my hands in his. “You may not be sure, but I am. You're my present and my future, and I love you.”

  I blushed then, my cheeks turning hot as I stared at the ground.

  “I love you too,” I said, and I pulled him down for another kiss.

  We were still making out when my sister came over and knocked on the door before opening it.

  She pointed at Trevor and said, “Dude, you are so lucky you manned up, or I was going to punch you in the face at work.”

  He shook his head and said to me, “See what I have to put up with at work? My work is stressful enough. I want everything with us to be perfect. No fights. Or at least minimal fights. If you want to talk, about anything, you just say the word and I'll talk.”

  “Talking's overrated.” I wrapped my arms up around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

  Nikki groaned and left the room.

  After our little reunion (it was just kissing; we'd only been apart a few hours!), I brought Trevor out to the dining room and introduced him around to everyone. The man has an amazing talent for remembering names, and he remembered each person's name after being told it just once. He'd look the person directly in the eyes, nod, and slowly repeat the name.

  I don't know why this impressed me, but it did.

  We all had a wonderful dinner, stuffing ourselves beyond reason, and then the dessert course came out.

  As the guests disappeared, my mother noted that it was snowing, and expressed concern about Trevor being out on the road that night. “You should say over,” she said. “You can stay in Naomi's room.” She glanced over at my father, who was drinking a coffee with whipped cream on top. He shrugged.

  So, that night Trevor did stay over at my house, with my parents right upstairs. Despite our desire for each other, we didn't feel right having sex under my parents' roof with them home, so I put on my flannel pajamas and he kept on his boxer shorts, and we climbed into bed together.

  And then we lay there. Both of us on our backs with our arms above the covers, him with his feet hanging off the end of my little double-size bed.

  After about half an hour, I turned to him and said, “I can't sleep.”

  “I need you,” he said.

  My door was locked, and it had been an hour since we'd heard any sounds from upstairs, so I kissed him and reached down into his boxers. He was already rock-hard, the head moist and slick. He fumbled with my clothes and whispered, “I feel kinda dirty.”

  “Me too,” I whispered back. “I like it.”

  He got my pajama top off and rolled me onto my back so he could lick my nipples. He ground his erection into my hip as he nibbled first one nipple and then the other, his hands squeezing and running over them. It was the sexiest thing ever, feeling him grinding against my hip.

  I pushed the covers back and dove down, pulling his boxers off. I grasped his shaft in one hand and licked all around the head as he shuddered with pleasure. I sank my mouth down on him, enjoying the heat of him. I twirled my fingers through the glossy, black curls, and I moaned with enjoyment as I sucked on him.

  He stiffened in my hand and mouth, rolling his hips with my movements.

  “C'mere,” he said softly, his voice still deep. Then he growled, like a bear.

  I yanked off my pajama bottoms and my now-wet panties and tossed them on the floor. I straddled his stomach, kissing my pussy down near his navel, and arching forward to kiss him on the lips.

  He growled again.

  “My bear,” I said. “My teddy bear.”

  He whispered, “Does a teddy bear do this?” He grabbed my hips and eased me back, spearing me. At the touch of him on my wet, pink folds, I quivered.

  “Mine does.” I slid down onto him, enjoying each slippery increment.

  After all the excitement of the day, I felt grounded and relaxed, touching my skin to Trevor's. We belonged together, and even though we were of such different heights, and nearly a decade apart in age, we fit so well together, and not just sexually. When we watched movies, we both laughed at the same things. When we ate at restaurants, we each insisted the other try what we'd ordered. If I joked that his dish was better than mine, he'd try to trade me, so I had the better dish. And he'd canceled his trip, because he wanted to be with me.

  I was his future, and he was mine.

  Pressing my hands into his chest, I sat up so I was riding him, rocking my hips back and forth on him. His hands were steady on me, his body beautiful beneath mine.

  His cock stiffened inside me, and I could sense the build-up in his body.

  I whispered, “Come for me, baby.”

  He smiled and then closed his eyes.

  I kept rocking, and as he let go, so did I. His orgasm began just after mine, or just before—it was hard to tell us apart. I shook and trembled with pleasure, my face contorting and then relaxing as I opened my eyes to see him staring at me with so much adoration in his eyes.

  He rolled me on my side, still impaled by him, and rocked in and out of me for the end of his orgasm, finishing deep inside me, disappearing into me.

  When at last my body stopped shaking, we pulled apart and both lay on our backs.

  After a moment, he reached over and entwined my fingers in his. “So,” he said quietly in the dark. “Got any plans for New Year's Eve?”

  “I'm hoping that this hunky guy I know will ask me out.”

  “What hunky guy? Now you got me all jealous.”

  I gave him a playful swat.

  “There are a few parties we could go to.”

  “You mean like warehouse parties? Like Halloween?”

  “No. Grown-up parties, with fancy dresses and stuff.”

  “I see,” he said. “Sure, but I'm not wearing a dress.”

  “Oh, Trevor.” I rolled on top of him and started kissing him again.

  Part 6: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

  Today is New Year's Day. My resolution for this year is to get back into theater, and not the office and accounting aspect of it. I want to be on stage, part of productions. I'm not dead-set on becoming a big star just yet, but let's just say I'm open to it. And in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy every minute of rehearsal, every aching muscle from learning a new routine. Theater makes me feel alive, the way I feel when I'm with Trevor. Up until now, I've been hiding, living in the basement under my parents and acting like a kid, delaying my life.

  I know it's cliché to have these feelings on New Year's Day, but here I am. I feel amazing, and I'm going to take on the theater world. I talked to Trevor about it last night, and he thought it was a fantastic idea.

  We were dressed up for the fanciest party we could still get tickets for, and double-dating with my parents, who were surprisingly keen on the idea of going out for a change. They usually spend a quiet night in with a few other couples, or just watch the festivities on TV.

  I wore a sparkling silver dress I'd bought over a year ago, but hadn't had the opportunity to wear until just last night.

  The four of us took a cab the party, which was at a restored old mansion, run by a historical society. It had been one of Trevor's business associates, Mr. Charles, who'd suggested it. As we were in the cab, I said, “Mom, Dad, Trevor—”

  My mother interrupted me, “Oh my god you're pregnant!”

  As my father gasped and Trevor looked like he might faint, I waved my hands, saying, “No, no, nothing like that. I swear. I just don't want to do accounting anymore. I want to get back into the theater.”

  My father held his hand over his chart, his eyebrows still raised. “Is that all?”

  “Yes. That's all.”

  “Fine by me,” my father said. “You've worked in the office for
a while, gotten yourself a lot of skills to fall back on. Now you can pursue some dreams, and you still have those other skills.”

  “That was easy,” I said.

  Trevor patted my knee. “You were wonderful in the Nutcracker. You have a very special gift for entertainment, and I'm glad to hear that. I think it'll be good for you. I support you in anything you wish to do.”

  I'd been expecting more of a fuss, so when we arrived at the mansion, I felt like I was walking on clouds.

  The rest of the night was magical. We share a table with two other couples, one about our age (yes, the woman was my age and the man was Trevor's age), and one my parents' age.

  We drank way too much champagne, and of course my shoes were off by the end of the evening and I was dancing barefoot. I made Trevor take off his big shoes so he wouldn't step on me, and then my parents did the same.

  We shut the place down, dancing right to the very last song.

  My parents went home, and Trevor and I went to a hotel across the street—the one we'd booked when we bought the tickets.

  As we stepped in the elevator, he said, “I'm going to put the house up for sale. That is … if you think it's a good idea.”

  “It's your house.”

  He pulled me against him in the elevator, my back to his stomach, his arms draped across in front of me. He nuzzled my hair.

  “My life is in the city, with you. I'll sell the house and then I'll buy one of those cool loft places, like the one we went to that party at, but in a better part of town.”

  “That sounds interesting.”

  He kissed my ear. “We could have dinner parties.”

  “If it's big enough, we could rollerskate around inside.”

  “I like that,” he said. “You always have the most fun ideas.”

  The elevator doors opened and we found our door. Trevor hesitated before trying the keycard. “Hey, remember that time ...” With one hand, he brushed up the hem of my silver dress.