'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas

by Stacey Espino

  Moving with a sense of urgency now, she pulled on her coat and gloves and hurried out the front door. The scent of pine and storm lay thick in the frosty air. Her breath misted and swirled around her when she exhaled. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she approached the renovated barn. Birch and spruce trees circled the large faded, red A-framed building with an addition built on one side. The tree tops swayed back and forth in the wind. Brittle crackling of branches rubbing together in the wind made a mournful noise in the rising storm. Nestled under a heavy tarp on the side of the addition stood her snowmobile. Windows ran along the sides of the original barn and the addition, having just put them in last spring giving her the necessary light needed when she painted or sculpted. By her snowmobile was a door, one of two entrances to the building, the other being the original large double doors to the barn and on the other side her workroom for her sculptures.

  Entering by the smaller door she switched on the lamp and built a fire in a pot bellied stove. The room she kept sparsely furnished with only a bed, table, chair and an easel. Going to a door on the other side of the room she flipped the switch to the recessed overhead lights lining the archway of the old barn, flooding the cavernous space with light. Her canvasses and sketches rested along one side of the room and long tables were placed along the other side filled with various sizes of chisels, hammers, paint brushes and oil paints. Finished paintings hung from every space on the four wooden walls, the smell of the oil paints and turpentine hung in the undisturbed air.

  Yet only one thing held her attention. Slowly, she approached the ice sculpture that stood at the end of the barn by the double doors. The lights overhead sparkled over the ice like a diamond. Colors of red, blues and greens shimmered within its icy depths. This, she knew to be the best work she had done by far. Standing six feet tall, the image of the man who haunted her for months loomed over her. Her gloved hand caressed a large bicep, wandering up his shoulder to the wide chest, resting where his heart would beat on a living man. Only cold ice lay silently beneath her palm.

  In her dreams it was warm flesh, firm and toned. His lips and hands stroking, nibbling and licking at her, sending her into a frenzy of need she never before experienced. She looked up into the beauty of the face she’d created. High cheekbones and firm jaw, lips full and sensuous, held a hint of a smile. His nose strong and straight, the eyes beneath thick brows she imagined were a cerulean blue as deep and clear as the sky. A lock of hair rested on the smooth forehead almost touching one eye, then waved back to fall down his back past his broad shoulders. She could picture his hair white blonde and soft to the touch. Her hands moved over the angles and ridges of his chest and abs, down past his narrow waist to the rampant erection his long fingered hand gripped firmly by the base. She touched the large crown of his cock and absently licked her lips, replaying the countless dreams, relishing the way he felt and tasted. Moisture pooled between the juncture of her legs as she visualized taking his huge cock in her mouth as far as she could, her tongue flicking the sensitive area just beneath the crown along the thick vein.

  God, she was pathetic!

  She hadn’t been with a man since Ryan’s death five years ago; hadn’t the urge until the dreams about this man started six months ago. Now her libido raged out of control for a figment of her imagination. Worse, she couldn’t shake him from her thoughts when she was awake. Laura obsessed about him. Replaying every stroke of skin, taste and emotion he pulled from her, loneliness and need threatened to overwhelm her. At thirty-two she was too young to live this cloistered life. The solitude made her ache with wanting someone to share her life with.

  At the same time the very thought terrified her. She didn’t want to open herself up to that kind of loss like again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to survive it. And yet…to be able to feel a man’s arms around her, touching her, filling her once again would make her feel alive. Her breath misted in the still air as she sighed. I have the holiday blues. Tomorrow was Christmas, a time for family. A family she didn’t have. She thought there would be time for family later with Ryan. Later turned out to be too late.

  Her vision of the sculpture blurred and a tear fell unchecked down her cheek.

  “I wish…” The sudden silence was near deafening, as if the very air awaited her words. “I wish not to be so alone. I want a man who I can laugh, cry and even get angry at…” She laughed at her own silliness, but what the hell, if you were going to wish for something do it right the first time around. “A man who would never leave me alone again,” she whispered, as more tears slid down her cheeks. Her eyes locked on the still sculpture before her.

  The sudden howling of the wind broke the silence of the moment and the world seemed to shudder back to reality. Impatiently, she wiped the moisture off her face and gave a short, bitter laugh. Wishing never made anything any better. Much more preferable to just face the reality of her life here alone or change it and move back to civilization and get back out in the world.

  For some odd reason the idea of leaving left her panicky. She felt close to her imaginary lover here and the idea of seeing other men left a bad taste in her mouth. Nope, she most definitely was not ready for a change like that.

  Grabbing a pad of paper and her pencils off the table, she made her way back to her small bedroom where she decided to sketch while she waited the storm out.

  * * * *

  Elric fought the storms fury; his misty form blending into the wind whipped snow. The tiny settlement stood silent and dark. At this time of year in Alaska the sun emerged at noon and set again an hour later. It was well after five in the afternoon from his calculations and with the storm gaining even more strength, the only thing he could see was a solid white wall of snow and the sound of the wind as it battered against doors closed tight against it.

  Darkened windows stared blankly out at the storm ravaged night as the wind howled around him like hungry wolves, biting into him with icy teeth. And yet, Elric couldn’t help but feel enjoyment as his last days of freedom dwindled. Far too soon he would have the heavy yoke of responsibility. He pushed through the wind and empty streets in the dark twilight, burying his irritation, not wanting anything to sour these last hours.

  Unexpectedly, the wind roared with a vicious blast of strength sending him whipping out of the small, sleepy settlement and hurtling through the forest. Powerless to fight against it he rode the currents as he plunged through the brush, narrowly missing the trees springing up in his way. Twisting and turning, he felt dizzy, disoriented and completely exhausted. From the corner of his eye he saw the dark shape of a barn and with the last of his strength he fought the pull of the wind, angling his body toward the safety which beckoned him.

  He fast approached the huge structure. Arms outstretched, he willed his form to take substance and barely caught hold of the corner. He felt the wood splinter beneath his nails but it held as the rest of his body met the structure with a resounding whoof, and the air left his lungs.

  Gasping for breath, he then searched for a way inside, more than ready to ride out the storm. He found the large double door with relative ease, the lock on it was another matter. He could destroy it but that would only warn whoever owned the barn someone broke in; something he really wished to avoid. Placing the lock in the center of his palm he concentrated all his remaining strength on the lock, visualizing the locking mechanism inside sliding free. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead from the effort and after a few moments his patience was rewarded when it clicked free.

  Pulling the lock off, he opened the door and stumbled into the barn, securing the door behind him. With an exhausted sigh, he turned and came face to face with…himself!

  He studied the six foot sculpture noticing it was made entirely of ice. On the side, a long work table with various chisels and picks were placed neatly in order of size. Scanning the room he realized the old barn had been turned into some sort of artist studio. The arched ceiling was equipped with recessed lighting; only one light bur
ned allowing a little light to illuminate the large room. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings in various stages of completion. But the sculpture drew his attention again, and he lightly traced a fingertip across one high cheekbone. “Incredible,” he whispered reverently at the talent he stumbled upon. Curiosity as to the artist of such detailed work consumed him. As an artist in his own right, he appreciated the skill he saw here, and wanted to know the creator of such fine work before he journeyed home.

  The sound of steps coming from behind the far door riveted Elric in place, and he couldn’t help but grin with expectation as the door slowly opened.

  Chapter Two

  Laura could hear the wind battering against the walls of the old barn as if it tried to tear it apart. She squinted out the small window seeing a solid wall of white. With a sigh, she resigned herself to spending the duration of the storm in her small bedroom. Her little house was only a short distance away but in the storm she didn’t want to take the chance of getting lost and freezing to death. She’d heard of such a thing happening too many times. No, she was just going to have to make the best of it until it passed.

  The sound of the back door opening startled her. She always kept it locked, preferring to come and go from the store room door which was closer to her home. Quickly, she grabbed her battery powered lantern and the large hammer she kept on the small table and crept silently to the door, placing an ear to the worn wood. She heard the creak of a floor board and her heart raced at the prospect of confronting an intruder. Her grip tightened on the hammer.

  Get a grip. You can’t hide in here forever.

  Sooner or later whoever was out there would come into the storage room and then she wouldn’t have the advantage of surprise, plus there was much more room outside to maneuver than in this tiny room. Taking a calming breath she opened the door. Raising the lantern, she stepped out to confront her unwanted guest.

  Laura saw him immediately; though his face was in shadow she could still discern his imposing body. He was tall and all lean muscle and sinew. She found herself surprised to see he wore no snow gear, only a white shirt unbuttoned at his throat showing an expanse of golden skin. The material stretched across wide shoulders and clung to his defined chest. The shirt tucked into jeans slung low on his lean hips. Muscular legs wrapped in tight denim and black boots encased his feet. The old saying, big feet big…

  Shaking the thought away she peered up into the shadowy outline of his face. She felt a nagging familiarity about him she couldn’t quite place. Then he stepped into the light of her lantern as she gasped as recognition hit her like a brick.

  She blinked, thinking her imagination was playing tricks on her, and then blinked again.

  Nope. He still stood there. If not for the sculpture remaining where she left it, Laura would have thought her creation came to life. She opened her mouth to speak, her mind whirling at the impossible odds of sculpting the exact replica of the man standing in front of her.

  The man in question was absolute perfection! Just as she’d visualized him so many months ago, only more vibrant, his features more clearly defined. His face all sharp angles and hard lines. He had the same strong jaw, high cheekbones and straight aristocratic nose. White blonde hair framed his face. A lock of it hung over his eye, as the rest flowed down past his shoulders in thick waves. Brows of golden brown complemented ice blue eyes shadowed with thick, dark lashes. Bedroom eyes definitely, but it was his mouth which held her enthralled. Full and sensuous, she felt a sudden yearning to feel his mouth on hers, tasting him with her lips, teeth and tongue. Liquid heat pooled between her thighs and her pussy clenched with need. It had been so long since she felt any kind of an attraction and it left her stunned.

  “Um…uh,” was all she could get out. That was very intelligent! She mentally kicked herself. One brow arched up in amusement and she felt her cheeks heat. God, now she was blushing like a school girl…

  “I am sorry to startle you, but I was caught unawares by the suddenness of the storm and saw this barn…” His deep voice hit her like warm cognac, smooth and intoxicating. She noted a hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place, his choice of words old fashioned.

  “Ah, yes. It did kick up quite suddenly.” Laura groaned inwardly. Very lame, Holt! She knew she must sound like an idiot but she seemed to be unable to string words together with her focus on those perfect lips of his.

  Those lips quirked up into a lopsided smile showing a flash of bright white teeth and a dimple appeared on the side of his mouth. She was completely lost, her pulse raced, her breathing ragged and she inhaled deeply. Her lungs filled with the scent of pine and snow and musk. Damn he smells good!

  “I do hope you won’t mind me staying here until this blows over? I promise to be no bother to you.”

  Was he kidding? He was a distraction just standing there breathing! She forced a polite smile. “No problem, perhaps you would be more comfortable by the stove in the other room.” She swept her arm around pointing to the door she just left. “My name is Laura and this is my studio. I didn’t know the door was unlocked that’s why you startled me, Mr.?”

  His eyes warmed to a deeper shade of blue as amusement sparkled in their depths; the corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I’m Elric Frosti and would very much like that.”

  Laura could feel her blush deepen at the unexpected complement. Geez, when did I revert back to a teenager with my first crush?

  She turned to lead the way back to the small room, aware of his very male presence every step of the way. He towered over her. Though not a small woman at five-foot-eight, he still made her feel small and feminine. She guessed him to be six-three or six- four, but he moved quietly with a grace she never before saw in such a big man.

  Pushing the door open she moved into the room and sat on one of the chairs beside the small table, watching as he closed the door behind him and moved into the room. He then warmed his hands by the small furnace burning brightly. His hair caught the light from the fire and turned it to molten silver; it flowed down his back past his shoulder blades in thick glossy waves. Instinctively, Laura wanted to run her hands through it to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked.

  “I couldn’t help but notice the sculpture. Very impressive and uncannily accurate.”

  His question jolted her back from her musings. “It’s quite a shock to see you standing there.” She gave a low, throaty chuckle.

  “No doubt. It was a bit disconcerting to come face to face with myself and in such an intimate pose,” he murmured wryly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The gleam in his eyes made her stomach feel like she swallowed a butterfly. “How did you come by using my likeness?”

  Laura took a deep breath; she so did not want to answer this particular question.

  Well, you see, I have dreamt of you for months where we make wild monkey sex, giving me the most intense orgasms of my life. Yeah, that would go over well.

  Instead she kept it vague. “I don’t really know, you just popped into my head and it came out in my sculpture.” She shrugged casually, like it was no big deal. Laura looked down at her hands and willed them to stop fidgeting. She was a lousy liar.

  * * * *

  Elric stared down at the cluttered table with her drawings, all of which were of him. “I can see that,” he stated pointedly, wry amusement coloring his voice, and he couldn’t help the grin spreading across his lips. He could sense much more to it but he would let it drop for now.

  He felt drawn to this fascinating creature. Intelligence sparkled in her large, dark brown eyes, the color of hot chocolate. He could get lost in those eyes and be a happy man. Her short brown hair shimmered with burnished copper highlights in the lantern light, curling every which way and framed her small, heart shaped face. Dark eyebrows arched above those large expressive eyes, her nose, small and well formed with a smattering of freckles gave her an innocent look. Her skin the color of peaches and cream,
looked so soft, he had to control the urge not to reach out and touch. Her mouth full and delectable, was made to tempt a man and damn was he tempted.

  Dressed in an overly large heavily corded sweater, he could still make out the shape of her full breasts and curve of her hips. Her long legs were encased in tight jeans tucked into knee high boots. He could imagine those legs bare and wrapped around his waist while he moved inside her, her hips moving in time with his thrusts. His cock swelled at the thought. When she moved ahead of him to lead him into her room he bit back a groan as he watched, mesmerized by the sway of her hips and curve of her heart shaped ass. She was made for pleasure and he was determined to get as much of her body as he could before he was forced to leave. He wanted her spread out before him, naked, breasts thrusting up for his touch and legs spread wide, her pussy glistening, ready for him…and he always got what he wanted.

  Biting back another groan, his cock throbbed with need. Christ, he had never been this turned on by a woman and he hadn’t even touched her yet!

  He was in deep shit.

  Elric didn’t have time for this, especially with a mortal. He’d have lots of lovers both mortal and Fey through the centuries and though he preferred women, he was known to have a few male affairs that were just as satisfying. But he’d never been so close to losing control as he was at this moment. Simply gazing down at her spiked his temperature into dangerous ranges and for an Ice Fey like him, nothing good could come from it. He kept his attitude neutral and hoped she didn’t shift her gaze below his belt or it would be painfully obvious where his interest lay.