Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  Gideon ached for her to feel at ease enough with him to have no inhibitions about her body, ached for her to feel as comfortable with sharing her body with him as he was with her. He knew that he gave her pleasure—her sweet moans and helpless cries told him that. But he wanted more. He wanted all of her. Body and mind.

  He shifted his body so that he lay crosswise over her, retrieving his pants from the floor.

  Camille heard the rustle and then slide of his belt being removed from his trousers. When he returned, a smile of pure mischief lit his face.

  “So you don’t try and get away this time,” he said, bringing her wrists together and wrapping the makeshift bond around them.

  “I’m not…I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, her words barely audible as he snaked his body along hers, rubbing his face against the springy hairs that covered her mound.

  “I plan to make sure you that you don’t. No more vanishing acts from you,” he admonished and pushed her legs up, his hands grasping her by the ankles, anchoring her feet to the bed.

  Two fingers separated the lips of her vagina, exposing her clit. Camille gasped with pleasure when his lips covered her, his tongue swirling around her tight, throbbing nub, dragging it deep within his mouth.

  Her chest rose and fell in panting breaths as she widened her legs, peering down at him as he lay between them. The sight of his dark head between her thighs and the feel of his tongue licking and stroking her made her body tremble.

  “You like that, Cami,” he stated, when he finally released her.

  “Yes,” she breathed and whimpered when he moved away.

  “Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ll make sure you like the rest just as much.”

  He brought his face to her stomach, trailed his tongue over and around her belly button, dipping his tongue inside, swirling around the small indentation. The sensation startled her. Surprised at how good it felt, she threw back her head, grinding her body against his face.

  His laugh was a pure masculine purr against her skin. “If not more.”

  With careful attention he licked and suckled her, using lips, tongue and fingers to bring her to a screaming release, her body arching so sharply from the bed that had she not been bound she would have bucked him off her.

  When her body began to calm and her limbs stopped trembling, Gideon deftly removed the belt from her wrists, his cock hard, throbbing, his own breathing as labored as hers as he witnessed the way she gave into her release. She was devastating when she came.

  Quickly he sheathed his erection, centered himself between her legs and plunged deep in one long stroke.

  When her tight, warm sheath gripped him like a glove, he had to clench his teeth to prevent himself from slamming into her. He was close to orgasm from simply watching her.

  “Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked in a tight, controlled whisper against her temple.

  When she moved beneath him, not responding, he asked again, his control all but gone.

  “Yes…yes, please, Gideon…”

  He groaned, opened his mouth and clamped it over her breasts, pumping deep inside her. Wanting to heighten her climax, he gathered her closer and scraped her clit against his groin with every downward stroke. He held her tightly, his fingers digging into her hips, while his body plundered hers, his mouth on her breast greedy, sucking her with a frenzy of need and wild desire.

  When her orgasm began to unfurl, she inhaled a swift, desperate breath of air and clutched his neck as he continued to plunge and retreat. As her orgasm hit its pinnacle, she screamed out his name, her walls milking him until he could no longer hold out. Rearing his head back, he felt his seed burst from his body as they both yelled each other’s name in unison, until their voices died down to a hoarse cry.

  “That was…incredible. Thank you, Camille.” The words were inadequate, but Gideon couldn’t find the ones that would convey what he felt after what they’d shared.

  When she nodded her head in response, her lids droopy and her body still trembling, he pulled out of her, arranging their bodies so that he could rest his head against the top of her head, his mind busy.

  Although they’d been together a short time, his instincts told him that she was the one for him. Now he had to convince her of that.

  Chapter 10

  A few months later…

  “Mama, Mama, where are you?” Camille called, after entering her childhood home and throwing her purse on the sofa.

  “I saw your car in the garage….” she said distractedly, heading toward the kitchen. Opening the door to the fridge, she snooped around, hunting for something to eat. It was close to the Christmas season, so eagerly she searched for the sweets her mother had promised she’d make, Camille’s favorite—chocolate truffles.

  Her face fell when her search came up empty. Grumbling, she grabbed a can of Coke from the side shelf instead.

  “Hey, Annie, baby, I found the oiiiilll,” a man sang. “Where are you hiding from big daddy?”

  Camille dropped the can of Coke and spun around. Shocked to the point she was nearly speechless, Camille stared at the older man standing naked as a jay bird in the middle of her mother’s living room. She quickly recovered and yelled, “Who the hell are you and what in the hell are you doing in my mama’s house naked? And dear god in heaven, what are you doing with that oil in your hand?!”

  The naked man’s eyes grew round, and, a millisecond later, he hastily grabbed her mother’s crocheted blanket from the sofa and wrapped it tight around his waist.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry! I…I thought you were Annie Mae!” he stuttered.

  “Who says I’m hiding, big boy?”

  Feeling like Alice after falling in the rabbit’s hole, Camille spun around to see her mother, clad in a long, sheer gown, come strolling into the living room.

  Confused and shocked, Camille didn’t know whether to laugh at the look that crossed her mother’s face when she saw Camille in the kitchen or go screaming from the room in horrified denial because her mother was wearing a sheer gown and had a naked, oil-toting man in her living room.

  She opted for the latter. Spinning around, she ran from the room and heard her mother’s friend speak. “Annie, baby…why don’t I, uh, give you and your daughter some time alone? I’ll uh, go to the bedroom and get dressed.”

  “Camille, wait.”

  Camille stopped and slowly faced her mother. “Baby, I don’t know what to say. I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to visit.”

  “Well, that much is obvious. I hope to hell you weren’t, what with your…friend and the oil and all.” Camille fought the tears threatening to overcome her.

  Tears she didn’t understand.

  The past few months of uncertainty about her move to Houston, the career change, leaving home and Gideon all caught up with her, and the tears started falling down her face, slowly at first, before the flood gate opened as she rushed toward the front door, her mother on her heels.

  “Baby, I can explain,” she started and Camille stopped walking and held up a hand.

  “Mama, you don’t owe me an explanation.” She laughed, the sound unnaturally high. “You’re a grown woman. And like you said, it’s time for you to have some fun.”

  Tears were streaming down her face so hard her face she could barely see the floor in front of her.

  She’d made it to the door when her mother’s hand covered hers on the doorknob. “Camille…” she said and stopped, as much at a loss for words as Camille was. An uneasy moment of silence stretched out between them. Hearing her mother sigh, she turned to face her.

  “Let’s talk,” she said. Camille spun around and stared at her mother.

  “Forget it, Mama. Go back to your new man.” She spit the words angrily, wiping at the tears in her eyes. “Now I know why you kept rushing off the phone when I was in Houston. You’re too busy getting busy to talk to me!”

  As soon as she flung the words at her mother she knew she’d gone too far. Camille instantly regret
ted them and felt like a spoiled child, instead of the nearly thirty-year-old grown woman she was.

  “Camille Antoinette Jackson!”

  “When your friend leaves, maybe you’ll have time for me,” Camille said, rushing out the door before her mother could stop her.

  “Done acting like a brat, now, Cami? Think we can we talk?”

  Camille rose from her sofa, startled out of sleep when she heard her mother speak.

  She looked around, glancing out of her living room window, surprised to see it dark outside.

  Her mother had turned on the corner lamp, bathing the dark room in a soft amber glow.

  She perched on the side of the bed and Camille glanced at her with wary eyes as she sat up.

  “About what happened…” she began, only to have her mother hush her.

  “It’s okay, baby. I guess I kinda had it coming.” She laughed, softly, reaching out to brush the hair away from Camille’s eyes. “I think I got so caught up in my own life, I neglected you for a while. I’m sorry,”

  “No, Mama. I owe you an apology. I guess I was just…surprised. That’s all. It’s no excuse for how I acted, though.”

  “How about we both agree we could have handled the situation better, from both of our ends, and start over, hmm, baby?” her mother asked and opened her arms.

  Camille hugged her mother tightly, laughing with her.

  Her mother pulled away, reaching over to get a Kleenex for both of them, and said, “Now, tell me all about this Gideon, and don’t leave anything out.”

  “I’ll tell you all about him. But don’t think you can get out of telling me about…the oil man,” Camille quipped, and both she and her mother laughed.

  “Deal. I’ll tell you all about him. After you fill me in on what’s going on with you!”

  Camille grinned, feeling lighter than she had in months, setting back into her mother’s familiar embrace as she began to tell her mother about Gideon.

  As Camille strode through the Houston terminal, pulling her carry-on bag behind her, her nerves were as taut as the strings on an antique violin. And like the fragile strings on the old violin, the wrong touch would make her snap.

  One minute she was up, confident; the next minute down and confused, uncertain about her future with Gideon.

  Luckily, over the last two months, her roller-coaster ride of emotions hadn’t affected her job performance. Surprisingly, she’d accomplished not only the task of training her successor but had also completed the training for her new position.

  After her childish breakdown with her mother, the two had talked…talked in a way they never had. Her mother had told Camille that she’d been lonely for a long time and had gotten used to being alone. But she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  Camille had felt a smile tug the corners of her lips when her mother had told her about the new love in her life.

  Initially Camille hadn’t wanted to really know anything about the man—the first man in her mother’s life since her father died. Then she’d felt awful for feeling that way. Her mother deserved to be happy. As much as she’d thought her mother needed her to be near her, Camille realized that it was she who needed to be around her mother.

  Her mother deserved happiness—of the male variety. And the man she’d found seemed to make her mother happy. She’d delicately avoided the subject of her mother wearing the costume and her boyfriend chasing her around the house with a bottle of Johnson & Johnson baby oil.

  Some things a mother and daughter didn’t need to discuss.

  She laughed, thinking about it in retrospect.

  Who would have ever thought her Bible schoolteacher mother would have it in her?

  Gideon…that was a different matter.

  When she’d gotten home they’d both been busy—Camille with catching up on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated since her two-week absence and Gideon with two classes he had to teach back-to-back—and the two had only spoken briefly over the phone.

  After her routine had normalized, although still busy, she would find herself smiling throughout the day, thinking of him. Often they’d talk on the phone long into the night until both of their voices were drowsy, and they were forced to end the conversation.

  Not a day had gone by that Camille hadn’t heard from him. No matter how busy he was, he’d made time to call her. The few times he hadn’t, he’d texted her and asked about her day. Camille had blushed when he’d asked her to text him a picture of herself wearing only a smile for him and nothing else.

  Camera phone in hand, she’d obliged and blushed even harder when he’d returned the favor.

  She stepped outside the Houston terminal, knotting the ties of her knee-length black leather jacket, looking for the nearest taxi stand.

  Even with all the work, she’d managed to find a place to live, thanks to Gideon.

  As promised, he’d given her the lead to a great place to live, and two weeks prior to the move she’d flown out to Houston to look it over and had signed the lease. Because of an out-of-town workshop he was conducting, he hadn’t been able to be there when she’d arrived.

  She hadn’t known if she should have been happy or disappointed.

  Maybe it was a good thing she had a few days to get it together before she faced him, again. Some of their late-night conversations had gone from garden variety, “I miss you, and wish you were here, baby” to straight-out get her panties wet, I need you now, phone sex.

  When he’d told her he wouldn’t be able to pick her up at the airport, since he was out of town at a workshop in Denver and his flight had been canceled due to the weather, she’d been disappointed.

  “Oh, well, okay. I guess that can’t be helped,” she’d said, missing him so badly that she ached.

  “Which is too bad, really. I had plans for us,” he’d murmured.

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?” she’d asked, pushing the disappointment aside, as she packed the last of her clothes in her travel bag. A crease had formed between her brows as she’d surveyed the near empty room, making sure she hadn’t left anything.

  “I think you know what kind of plans I’m talking about,” he’d said and she’d stopped packing, holding the shirt tight in her hands.

  “Yeah, I think I have a general idea,” she’d said softly, her body reacting to the meaning of his words.

  “What are you wearing?” he’d asked, his deep voice scraping against her skin in a rough caress.

  “What am I wearing? Now?” she’d glanced down at the oversized T-shirt, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile. “Just a T-shirt.”

  “Is it mine?”

  “Yeah…” she’d replied, her voice gone soft.

  “Are you wearing any panties?”

  A strangled gasp had torn from her throat, and she’d croaked out a “no.”

  “Take your hands, pretend their mine.”

  “Gideon…” her words had barely been above a whisper.

  She’d placed the T-shirt inside her bag and sat back against the headboard. Hesitantly at first, she’d done what he’d instructed. In a low voice, his words a smooth caress along her body, he’d told her what to do, each word whispered along her body, up her legs, stroking into her until she’d gasped, her body trembling as the orgasm had washed over her, leaving her as shaky as though he had been the one to make her climax.

  Hundreds of miles away and he’d given her one of the best orgasms she’d ever had in her life, except for the times when she’d been in his arms.

  She had it bad for him.

  But do I do for him what he does for me? The disturbing thought filtered into her mind as it had with increasing frequency over the past few weeks before she’d left Seattle.

  “Did you want to share my taxi with me?”

  Startled, Camille was pulled from her thoughts.

  “Would you like to share a taxi?” the man asked again. She recognized him as the one she’d sat next to on her flight to Houston.

  He’d tri
ed several times during the flight to engage her in conversation until eventually she’d had to put on earphones, keeping the cord in her purse, pretending to listen to music she didn’t have, in order to avoid him.

  She’d been too on edge, her mind on her uncertain future with Gideon, to be able to engage in idle chitchat.

  “Uh, no, that’s okay. I—”

  “No, the lady is already taken care of,” a deep voice interrupted.

  Camille spun around, a surprised look on her face when she saw Gideon smiling at her, standing near a black SUV behind the taxi.

  “Gideon!” She ran the few feet that separated them, and as he grabbed her, she jumped into his arms. “I thought you were snowed in!”

  “I managed to get a flight out. Thought I’d surprise you, baby.”

  Over Gideon’s shoulder she saw the man give her a shrug and climb inside the taxi and speed off.

  Once Gideon had released her, she asked, “Hey…how did you know that guy was asking me to share his taxi? You were too far away to hear him!” she laughed.

  He looked her over, grinning. “I’m sure that’s not all he wanted to share with you,” he said with a mock scowl.

  “Oh, please, I look a mess! I’ve been traveling all day!”

  “You always look good and you know it.”

  “I’m serious!” she said, but couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing him again made the uncertainty she’d felt slowly fade.

  “Me too…look, baby, as good as you look, as good as you always look, what sane man wouldn’t ask you to share his taxi, or anything else?” he said, and she smiled, her cheeks dimpling at the compliment.

  “God, I missed you,” he said and pulled her into his arms to kiss her.

  Their lips had barely touched when a shrill whistle interrupted it. “Hey, buddy, move the car or get a ticket,” a uniformed officer yelled. Gideon released her and took her bag from her.