Twas The Night After Christmas

by Susan Diplacido

  When she'd had enough, she lay panting, exhausted. But above her, Joe was starting to really go at himself. She forced herself to sit up. Pushing the hair off her face, she said one word: "Stop." Joe gritted his teeth and grunted. His hand slowed, but didn't relent. "Joe," Marie said. "If you don't stop, you'll never touch me." Sheer willpower, looking at her body, thinking of possibilities yet to

  come, Joe inhaled sharply, let it out slowly, and released himself. "Did you like what you just saw?" Marie asked him. He swiped a hand across his brow and gave a terse nod, teeth still

  grinding together. "Joe," Marie said and waited for him to look her in the face. When

  he did, she told him, "I'm worth much more than a hundred bucks." He nodded. "Now get dressed," Marie told him. "And go home." As he pulled his boxers back on, he was silent. He was furious. He was embarrassed. But mostly, he was frustrated. Silently, he left, slamming the door behind him.

  In the living room, he nodded to Eddie and said, "C'mon. We're outta here."

  Sitting on the sofa, his arm around Tracey, Eddie didn't move. He just smiled and took a long drink of his beer. Tracey spoke up. "He…um, he can stay here."

  Now Joe felt like his head was going to explode on top of everything else that was throbbing. He huffed out, slamming that door, too.

  Outside, he slipped on the icy sidewalk and fell hard onto his back. "Shit!" he shouted up to the clouded sky. Joe picked himself up, his hands once again digging into the crunchy snow as he lifted himself and cursed. Once up, he glared up at Marie's apartment, saw the light in the living room flip off. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, bubbling inside. He grabbed a handful of snow, packed it tight, and hurled it at the window, yelling, "Son of a bitch!"

  It felt good. Hurriedly, he patted another one together and launched it. He took a deranged glee as it splattered against the window with a satisfying thwomp and left plenty of white and watery shrapnel. As he was packing another one tight, the light inside flicked on, and he saw Marie, draped in a robe, her red hair waving wildly, coming toward the window. "Shit," he hissed as he ducked, turned, and scampered away. Back at his car, he climbed in, breathing heavy from the run. He turned over the ignition and cranked up the heat, his whole body was freezing, except for his throbbing cock. Still clutching the unused snowball, he leaned back and put the arsenal to new use. He unbuttoned, unzipped, and shoved it down his underwear. He jolted with the shock, but it did its job.

  By the time he got home, his pants and boxers were soggy, and he was turned on again. How, how, how, did she get him like this? She was hot, yes. And watching her was hot as hell. But she was mind-fucking him something awful. He'd be damned if he was going to get jerked around like that, even for her. He really liked her, and she seemed cool, fun to hang out with. But to pull that tease even after he offered to cancel the bet was a bad sign. He promised himself he'd never see her again.

  Upstairs in his own place, he jerked off mechanically, but couldn't push visions of Marie out of his head, and he came quickly. Relaxing with the release, he laid back on his bed. She was one gutsy chica, that's for sure. He did like that about her, among plenty of other things. Was he really going to let his pride get in the way and give up on her? Mind calmed, his body unwound, and he was close to drifting off to sleep. That's when he came up with a much better plan than never seeing her again. * * * * On December twenty-sixth, Joe and Eddie went back to the bar. This time, Eddie didn't fight him on it. Tracey was there. Marie wasn't. Joe broke and asked Tracey where her roommate was, trying to sound casual. "She's at home. Didn't feel like coming out, I guess." "She still pissed off at me?" Shrugging, she answered him, "You'd have to ask her." Pulling on his jacket, he said, "I guess I'll do that." "Shit," Tracey muttered into her drink when he was gone. "I just lost

  a hundred bucks." "Huh?" Eddie asked, confused. "She bet me he'd be back." When Marie heard the knock on the door, she figured it was either her drunk roommate who forgot her keys, or, it was Joe. She expected to hear from him, she even bet Tracey on it. But when he hadn't called or come over to see her, her hopes slipped. She rose from the sofa and threw back the door without even asking who it was.

  He stood there, hands in his pants pockets, shoulders drawn up, head slightly lowered, looking at her sheepishly. "Christmas is over," he said. "But, uh, I'd still really like to see your tree."

  She smiled and moved aside. He walked in slowly, hands still in his pockets. Wandering by her, he went over to the tree and looked it up and down. "This real?" he asked and took a deep breath. "It's real," Marie said, closing the door. "It's a, ah, Blue Spruce." Squinting, he fixed her in his sight, "You allowed to have a real tree

  in this building?" Laughing, she answered, "No, no we aren't." The golden lights from the tree reflected in his shining eyes. The soft light illuminated his strong features and cast gentle shadows in the hollows of cheeks, pronouncing his jaw line, and making his dark hair seem even more lustrous and rich. Good Lord, she thought again, he's beautiful. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, "So, it's uh, after Christmas." "Yep." "I lost." "Yep." "I don't mind. I mean, I didn't mind waiting." Arching a brow, she took one step closer to him. "What makes you

  think the wait is over?" "You let me see your tree," he said, taking a step toward her. The electricity was palpable as they moved within inches of each other, still neither one reaching for the other. "It's a really nice tree," he murmured, then leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her softly at first, his hands still deep in his pockets. When she reached inside his jacket, encircling his waist, he kissed her more urgently, felt her tongue emerge, coaxing his mouth open against hers.

  Removing his hands from his pockets, Joe grasped her face as he explored and tasted her more deeply. He moved his hands along her neck and kissed a line across her cheek, toward her ear, suckling on her earlobe and inhaling the vanilla of her neck.

  His skin was soft against hers, and Marie realized he must have just shaved for her. Her hands moved up his chest, enthralled at the hardness and definition of his muscles beneath them. She moved to his shoulders, pushing back his jacket. He released her to shake free of the coat, let it to fall to the floor. Then he took hold of her again. One arm circled her waist, drawing her closer to him as the other tangled in her auburn hair, pushing it away from her throat as he dove to kiss her there.

  Shivering under his touch, her nerves were wired, each one crackling as his hands and lips brushed over that part of her body. Reaching lower, Joe untucked her shirt, fumbled with the buttons until he got it peeled back. He ran his hand across her stomach, feeling her belly contract under his touch, and he knelt down to kiss her navel. On his knees, working his tongue around the pliant skin, he clutched her around the waist and used his other hand to unzip her pants, taking his time. Pulling them down, he reached between her legs and rubbed her over her panties, smiling when she shifted her weight. His cock started to rise. Letting go of her waist, he started rubbing himself through his pants, working himself up, still working her, burying wet kisses into her stomach.

  Marie got impatient. It'd been a long enough wait, and him on his knees was too much. He wanted her, she was sure of that now. She shimmied out of her pants the rest of the way and kicked them aside. Falling on her knees, kissing him, she fumbled with his belt. Joe broke their kiss long enough to pull off his shirt. Hurriedly, fevered, they got out of their clothes, carelessly tossing them aside.

  Once naked, she pushed him back against the carpet. Joe barely noticed the prick of wayward fallen pine needles in his back, against his ass.

  Marie straddled him and looked down at his sculpted body as he fumbled in pants and pulled out his wallet. From inside it, he got a condom. Marie took it from him and ripped it open with her teeth. Carefully, she placed in on top of his erection. But instead of smoothing it down, she wiggled and sat on his knees, dipped her head, and used her mouth.

  When she put her mouth over him, Joe banged his head back against the carpet, inhaling sha
rply. She went slow, it easing down the length of his shaft with her mouth. Opening his eyes, he watched her do it, cracking inside. He'd thought of her sucking him off at least twenty times in the past couple days. He knew if he let her go, he'd come too quickly though, and that's not what he'd really been waiting for. So he tugged on her shoulders, urging her to rise.

  Marie complied. Smiling, she moved back up his body and kneeled across his waist. She lowered herself and undulated her hips, rubbed along the length of him, fully hard, eliciting a libidinous growl from deep in Joe's throat.

  Unable to withstand anymore taunting, he reached up and caught her hips, sat upright, and flipped her underneath him. Reaching down, he stroked himself against her as she had done to him, watching her grow breathless with anticipation, seeing the golden lights twinkle and sparkle in her green irises. She was wet, ready for him. She reached for him, raising one leg around his waist, and guided him into her. He halted, refusing full entry as he gazed into her eyes. She was breathing hard, obviously wanting it. He hovered there, gazing at her face, teasing her for a change.

  Locked by his sight, it took her by surprise when he suddenly thrust into her.

  Deep, forceful, making her gasp, her whole body contract. Above her, Joe reeled, his head swimming, the spark catching fire.

  When Marie thought he was in, she began to exhale slowly, and he suddenly ground in deeper, making her gasp, himself shuddering in her arms. Just as fast as he entered, he drew out, nearly all the way, then suddenly rocked her back with another strong stroke. She sighed in his ear.

  "You like what you feel?" he asked her, cocky. Teasing, he pulled out.

  Under him, silent, she thrust her hips up to meet him as he slid back in.

  "Yeah, you like that," he said, withdrawing and pushing again, wanting to hear her moan. She bucked underneath him with each forceful stroke as he made slow, painfully deliberate movements. "You like that," he said again, then adjusted his hips above her, moving more quickly, but with less depth. "Or you like this?"

  She answered with a labored sigh, then crooned in his ear, admitting, "I like it, Joe."

  Tiny beads of sweat formed on his upper lip as he rocked her under him, her hips undulating against his once she caught the rhythm. "Tell me," he panted, "tell me what to do. Tell me what you want," he commanded as he increased the pace.

  "Harder," she sighed, scraping her teeth along his shoulder when he obliged. Dragging her clenched fingers across his back, she directed again, "Faster." Again he obeyed, eyes closed now, brows knit in concentration as he drove into her, feeling her contract around him.

  Clenching his teeth to hang on, Joe said, "I like it. I like it when you tell me what to do." So Marie did. "Fuck me," she told him. "Fuck me hard." And he did. Rocking into her, getting her higher. Her legs clamped around his waist, writhing against him. Marie watched him, got off on seeing him strain. Joe closed his eyes, watching her would push him over the edge too quick. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. He kept it steady, held it together until Marie started calling his name. Breathy, getting louder, "Joe," she called and clamped her hands around his neck, ground herself against him with each stroke. "Ooh, Joe."

  Hearing his name drove him wild, and he placed his hand under her ass, pulled her to him as he drove in again. He felt her hard nipples pressed into his chest, her skin was slick, and she kept saying his name, not even giving him commands anymore, just saying, "Joe, yes…Oh, Joe." He couldn't take it much longer, knew he wouldn't hold out. She was tight around him, hot. It almost felt too fucking good.

  It was too good for Marie. It was even better than the night he watched her. Her body in knots, pulsing around him, she was set to explode. "Uh, Joe," she stuttered. Warning him, congratulating him, "I'm gonna come, Joe. Joe. I'm close. I'm…" And then he drove deep, and the spark caught fire.

  When she shuddered, he lost it. Joe opened his eyes and watched her come. Her back arched under him, her head was thrown back, her eyes were hazed but looking at him, and her hands dug into his arms. She didn't call his name any more, she just groaned. That finished him off, electric tingles raced up his spine and spread through his body. Edgy, she shuddered again, pushing him over. His breath caught, his muscles clenched, he drove deep, and finally, finally, finally, it was merciful, thundering release. She bucked and contracted around him as he stayed deep, shooting hot and forceful inside her.

  When she was done, Marie relaxed around him. Boneless, he slumped down onto her as they caught their breath. She stroked his back, and he shifted his weight, worried he was becoming too heavy on top of her. Softening, he pulled out and flipped onto his back.

  Exhausted, satisfied, he pulled her close, leaned over, and kissed her mouth. "Thanks," he said. "Hmmm," she sighed. "For what?" Clearing his throat, he looked over at her, her green eyes heavy with

  sleep. "Lettin' me see your tree," he answered. "It's a great tree." "Yeah? You like it?" "Mmmm. Best one I ever saw." "So it was worth the wait?" she prodded. "You bet," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. Marie nestled into his side, reached down and peeled the used condom off him. Tossing it aside, she stroked his stomach. "I'm sorry I made you lose a hundred bucks," she said.

  "Ah, that's ok, baby," he replied, absently rubbing her arm with his thumb. "I made Eddie go double or nothing I'd get you by New Year's."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ Susan DiPlacido is the author of three novels: 24/7, Trattoria, and Mutual Holdings. Trattoria was nominated for the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice award for Best Small Press Romance. Her short story, "I, Candy" won the Spirit award at the 2005 Moondance International Film Festival. Her short stories have been published or are forthcoming in a number of anthologies, including Zane's Caramel Flava, Susie Bright's Best American Erotica 2007, and Maxim Jakubowski's Mammoth Book of Erotica 6. "'Twas the Night After Christmas" is her first story with Phaze, and she's thrilled to be part of the family.

  You can find out more about Susan online at susandiplacido.com, or at her pop-culture centered blog, Neon Fiction, at susandiplacido.blogspot.com.