Home for the Holiday

by Wendy Stone

  I shivered in need, feeling his hands wrap the blanket around us, cocooning us together. I bent my head, finding his mouth, my tongue exploring his lips, dancing against his tongue. His hands were at my hips, guiding me so that he could push inside my heat. I felt him stretch my flesh and I gasped, forgetting how to breathe in the face of such overwhelming pleasure.

  I heard him groan as I sank down on top of him, felt his hands on my ass as he pulled me even closer. “Oh God,” I moaned. “It's never felt like this."

  "Like what?” he managed to ask between gritted teeth.

  I couldn't stay still, moving over him even as I tried to answer. “You're so big, so full. I'm going to...” I couldn't finish. My eyes shut tightly, white sparks of light going off behind them as his hand slid between us to torture my clit, making me spasm against him again. My body shook as I continued to move, the sensations almost more than I could stand. His other hand tangled in my hair, pulling my mouth down, kissing me with so much passion I climaxed again, my juices pouring over him as he thrust inside of me.

  Every spasm, every climax brought the pressure inside me to a boil, until I was moving against him faster, wanting him to take me harder, to fuck me until I couldn't stand, until I could do little but be a puddle at his feet. “Oh God!” I keened. He held my hips in his hard hands, his thrusts shaking my body.

  "Nick!” I cried, hearing his grunt of pleasure, feeling him growing larger inside of me.

  He groaned my name, his big body shaking against mine as he emptied himself into me, filling me with the heat of his seed. It was all I needed and I climaxed with him, the pleasure so much that I fell against him, my panting breaths harsh to my ears.

  I heard him swallow and wondered if his mouth was as dry as mine. He looked up, cupping my face in his hands. He was so gentle; I felt tears springing into my eyes. Steven had never looked at me with even a tenth of the emotion that Nicky's eyes held. I banished the asshole from my thoughts as Nicky kissed me gently, murmuring words of love against my mouth, cheeks and forehead.

  He leaned back against the bench and I snuggled up against him. He was still inside of me and I liked having him there. I felt no urgency to move, or to talk. My head settled on his shoulder and I closed my eyes, content.

  How long we stayed like that, I don't know. Neither Nicky nor I broke the spell that held us there. It was Old Man Winter. With a huge burst of cold wind, he blew the blanket away from us and sent a chill over my exposed flesh. I sat up, grabbing for the blanket but it was gone, blowing like a stray piece of paper across the surface of the pond. It would catch in the fence, that I had no doubt. But that did little to cover up my cold skin.

  "Maybe we should go inside,” Nicky said. He helped me stand, laughing gently when my knees shook, barely holding my weight. Helping me dress, he finally adjusted himself and pulled me in his arms. “I love you, Kenna. I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'll never treat you the way Steven did. I promise."

  "Does this mean you want to apply for the full time position of boyfriend, instead of just the temporary post?"

  "There had better not be any other candidates for that position,” he growled, pulling my hat back down on my fiery curls.

  "Well, Alex seemed interested,” I teased him further.

  "Kenna,” he growled in warning.

  "But I told him the position was filled."

  "Good idea,” he said. He grabbed my hand and we left the gazebo, braving the freezing cold of the winds as well as the snow it blew into our faces. Hurrying against it, we stopped in the mudroom and dropped off our coats, hats, gloves and boots. Then we went inside.

  Everyone was in the family room; the tree was up and in its accustomed place by the wide glass doors that led to the back deck. From the doors, you could see the pond and the gazebo. Worried, I peered out but the interior of the gazebo was shadowed and dark. I relaxed, less worried that someone had seen.

  Mom had retrieved the familiar boxes of antique ornaments that she'd gotten from Grandma, who'd gotten them from her Grandma. They were fragile and beautiful, some of glass that were obviously expensive. Others, the ones that I liked better, were made of wood and bits of this and that, homemade with love and care. Those were more precious in my eyes. Of course, there were the ornaments that we kids made in school, hung with as much care as the more expensive glass ones. Daddy had already strung the lights. That was his job and now he sat in his chair, his feet up, giving the occasionally direction or comment, one eye on the television watching the news and the weather.

  "We were just going to come out and look for you,” Mara said when she saw me. “I know how much you love this part of Christmas Eve."

  "Thanks, sis. You're right, I'd hate to miss decorating the tree.” Bekka was sitting in Mom's chair and as I glanced her way, I saw her glaring at me. I didn't know what I'd done, but at the moment, with Nick's lovemaking still first and foremost in my mind, I really didn't care. I reached into the box with the ornaments, unerringly picking out my favorite.

  She was beautiful, a tiny little angel with red curls and big green eyes. I remember when Mom had bought her for me. I was around six and we'd gone to the store to see Santa. Bekka had made a huge scene, crying and whining for the entire time we waited in line. I'd been good as gold so when we got done, Mom had said I could pick out a treat.

  Bekka had given me much the same glare as she'd just given me a few minutes ago. Mom had expected me to go to the toy department, but instead, I went to the Christmas aisles. I found this little angel and had picked her up so carefully, showing her to my mom.

  "I want her,” I'd said, though Mom had tried to get me to go and get something else, something I could use everyday and not just at Christmas. But I was adamant. So my little Christmas Angel came home. Holding it up to the light now, I could see the crack in her where Bekka had “accidentally” knocked her off the tree that first year, breaking her wings. Daddy had fixed her, putting her back on the tree for Christmas morning.

  "Your angel,” Mara said, coming to look over my shoulder as I held her up to the light. She was just as pretty as she'd been that first day. It wasn't often you found angels with red hair and green eyes. They usually had blonde hair and big blue eyes, sort of like Bekka. But I had learned at an early age that Bekka was no angel, as she continually proved.

  "I can't believe Mom and Dad haven't thrown that old thing away. It's cracked."

  I turned toward Bekka. “You should know. You cracked it."

  "It was an accident. Besides, it happened what, fifteen years ago? Get over it, Kenna.” Bekka smoothed her hand down over her stomach.

  "A lot of things that happen around you are accidents, aren't they, Bekka?” I said, a smirk on my face.

  "What do you mean by that?” Bekka snapped, sitting up in Mom's chair, though she couldn't get out of it on her own like I knew she wanted to.

  "Girls!” Mom interrupted. “It's Christmas. It's time to put the squabbling behind you and act like sisters."

  "We are acting like sisters, Mom.” Bekka said. “At least, I am. I didn't start this."

  I felt Nicky behind me, his hand running down my back to pull me against him. “Don't let her get to you,” he whispered in my ear. “She's not worth ruining your Mom and Dad's Christmas."

  "You're right,” I said, giving him a smile and a kiss. “I'm sorry, Bekka. Let's just forgive and forget, okay?"

  "Yeah, sure,” Bekka said. “Whatever."

  "What's for dinner, Mom? I'm starving."

  "Good, then you can help me serve it up while the rest of you take care of this mess."

  I followed after my mother, eager to get away from Bekka and her bitchiness. “Is she like this all the time?"

  "No. For the first few months, I think Bekka was actually very happy with Steven. Then the baby began to show and she started gaining weight. Now we barely see them and when we do, Steven is, well, it's like he's thinking of some other place he'd rather be and he doesn't even seem to want to tou
ch Bekka. I know some men are turned off by pregnant women, I just never thought he'd be one of them."

  I'd never told my Mom about the diets Steven had always had me on or the way he'd look at me if I ate a cookie or had a soda.

  "Maybe things will get better after the baby's born."

  "Let's hope Bekka can find her maternal side,” my mom said, but she didn't sound too positive about it. I helped ladle and carry, taking the food to the table and snitching tastes when Mom wasn't looking. Between the dishes and the food, the table was almost groaning with the weight of what we'd put on it. I couldn't wait to settle down and eat more of my mother's fantastic cooking.

  "You're favorite fruit salad is in the fridge, Kenna."

  I hurried and pulled it out. The combination of marshmallows, mandarin oranges and pineapple had always been my favorite as a child. I never got it anywhere but at home. Grabbing a serving spoon, I hid the piece of pineapple I'd snitched and popped it in my mouth.

  "God, Mom, no one cooks like you do."

  "You want to go and call them in for dinner?” she asked, a pleased look on her face.

  Stepping to the kitchen door, I hollered, “DINNER!"

  "Kenna, I could have done that myself.” Mom scolded like I knew she would.

  "So why didn't you?” I asked, teasing her like she knew I would.

  We were the last two to the table. I was sitting between Nicky and my father and I brushed my fingers across the back of Nick's neck as I sat, pleased by the shiver it gave him. Mom sat at the foot of the table. “Shall we join hands so that we can give thanks?"

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  Chapter Seven

  Dinner was a happy affair, full of laughter and teasing. Even Bekka seemed to come out of her snit and join in with the fun. Steven, though, held himself away from us like he always had. I could see it now as I hadn't been able before. It was like there was a plastic bubble around him, where he could go and not have to deal with people.

  "I'll never be able to eat again,” Nicky said as he finished off his second piece of my Mom's famous apple pie. She always served it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream drizzled in homemade caramel sauce. I ran my finger through the sauce on Nicky's plate and sucked it off, looking up at him with mischief in my eyes. “You are a cruel woman,” he said softly to me.

  "Would you like to hear what Mom's making for tomorrow?” I teased.

  "Oh shoot me,” he begged.

  I laughed and stood up, reaching to start stacking plates. “Come on, Mara, Mom's been cooking all day. Least we can do is the dishes."

  "You hate doing dishes,” Mara said, but she stood up and started collecting plates anyway.

  "Yeah, and the sign of a good child is to do the things you hate doing without complaint,” I said, hearing a snort from Bekka's direction.

  "When did you ever do anything but what you wanted to do?” Bekka asked. “You dropped out of college and moved to Lapeer. You're working for the police there when they fired your brother-in-law for no reason. Sounds pretty selfish to me,” she said, gathering the shawl she'd taken off the back of the couch around her. She sent a pretty smile down towards Steven but he ignored her. Then his cell phone went off and he excused himself, still without looking at anyone.

  It took everything I had in me not to throw in her face that her fair-haired husband had been fired for trying to have sex with a woman while he was on the clock. The woman had complained to her politician husband about Steven's advances. He'd been told to quit or face sexual harassment and assault and battery charges.

  I'd never told anyone about that, not even Nicky. I guess I was too embarrassed that the man I'd thought so perfect had ended up to be just another dog, looking for whatever he could get. Without answering her nastiness, I took the plates I'd stacked and carried them into the kitchen. Mara was already there, standing near the mudroom door, her ear plastered to the crack.

  "Mara Jean McEwen!” I said loudly, startling her into jumping straight up and looking at me sheepishly. “What are you doing?"

  "Shhh,” she hissed, putting her finger to her lips, then she motioned for me to come to her. I went, too curious to refuse.

  "What's up?” I asked.

  "Steven's out in the mudroom talking to some woman,” she hissed at me. “I think he's making a date for later tonight."

  "You're kidding me,” I said, pressing my ear to the crack and listening. If I strained I could hear him talking. His voice carried that sniveling whine he always used when he wasn't getting his own way.

  "I can't get out of here any earlier, baby. You know I would if I could. I have to do the family thing. She doesn't want to tell her family about the divorce until after the holidays and I agreed.” There was a pause and I could almost picture Steven's face in my mind. “You know I only love you. We both realized we were making a mistake with this marriage and she's just as anxious as I am to have it over. Then we never have to see each other again."

  "Go back out and keep cleaning off the table,” I told Mara. “Don't tell anyone about this, got me?"

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Something I should have done a long time ago,” I muttered and took a deep breath, opening the mudroom door. Riley was on my heels and I felt comforted by his presence. With him there, Steven wouldn't try anything against me.

  "Is everything okay?” I asked, as if I really cared.

  Steven slammed his hand over the phone. “Oh no, just some work that I have to finish. I'm going to have to go into the office tonight."

  I reached over and to his surprise, plucked the phone out of his hand. “Hello?"

  "Who is this?” a woman's voice said from the other end.

  "Who is this?” I answered right back, smacking Steven's hand away from me as he tried to reach for his phone.

  "I'm Diane Trangle,” the woman finally answered. “Steven is my boyfriend."

  "Your boyfriend? Did he happen to tell you he's married and they have their first child on the way?"

  "Child? His wife is pregnant?” She sounded sincerely shocked and I couldn't blame her. I'd felt the same way when I'd found out about Steven and Bekka.

  "Yes. She's due within the next month.” I looked up at Steven as he once more reached for his phone, hearing Riley growl. “Do it and you'll lose a hand,” I said, nodding down at Riley.

  "Will you give him a message for me?” Diane asked and I could hear the hurt and betrayal in her voice. Boy, did I know how that felt.

  "Sure."

  "Tell him to forget my number, forget where I live, and to stay out of my sight or I'll let him know how I feel about cheaters."

  "No problem. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

  With that, I hung up the cell phone. “I can't believe you,” I said, the disgust in my voice more than evident. “What the hell is wrong with you? Your wife, the woman that you left me for, that you couldn't wait to run to, is having your baby. How could you leave her now?"

  "Have you looked at her recently?” Steven asked. His face took on a moue of disgust. “She's so fat, she can't even pull on her own socks."

  "That's not fat, Steven. She's pregnant with your baby, you ass. I can't believe I ever fell for any of your shit. Stay away from me, Steven, and you'd better start treating Bekka better or I'll let her know about this little phone call, do you understand me? Maybe I should tell her about why you lost your job with the county? I think the family might be interested in hearing about that, don't you?"

  "You bitch, you're threatening me?"

  "Nope, this ain't even close to being a threat, you son of a bitch. This is a promise. Mess with me or anyone else in my family and you'll find out how much hurt I can put on you. Maybe your bosses would like to know why you lost your job?” I threw his cell phone back at him, calling Riley to my side so he wouldn't be tempted to take a bite out of Steven after I left the room. I stormed back into the kitchen.

  Mara was there, talking to Nicky. “Are you all right?"

>   My heart was pounding, the top of my head felt like it was going to come off, I was so mad. I was disgusted with him, and with myself for not seeing what he was the first time we'd met. “Fine,” I said shortly. Then I went to Nicky and threw myself in his arms. “I need a hug."

  "Anytime, love,” he said, holding on tight and burying his face in my hair. “What happened out there?"

  "Yeah, did you give the creep a good kick in the balls?” Mara asked eagerly, wanting details.

  "No, but I did ruin the date he had for later tonight."

  "No! He had a date?"

  Nicky let me go slowly, lifting my chin to give me a kiss that helped steady my nerves and made me feel better. “Some woman named Diane. I don't think she'll have anything to do with him after this. She didn't know Bekka was pregnant."

  "I hope you let her in on that,” Mara said, watching the door to the mudroom.

  "Yes I did, and I told him if I caught him fooling around on Bekka again, I was going to let loose a few truths I knew he wouldn't want spilled."

  "He didn't try to hurt you?” Nicky asked, his back going up.

  "No, baby. I'm fine. But he won't be if I have to go after him again."

  "It's not fair,” Mara groused. “I'm the one who told you and now I can't get a few licks in.” She kicked at the kitchen table, moving it a few inches. “That smarmy bastard needs his ass kicked."

  "Mara!” I wasn't sure if I was more shocked or amused by my darling sister's language. “Don't let Mom hear you talk like that. She'll get out the soap."

  "Do I look stupid?” she asked me, following up quickly with a “Don't answer that."

  "Just don't say anything to Bekka,” I said. “She doesn't need to know about any of this."

  "Don't say what to Bekka?” Mom asked, walking into the kitchen and giving the three of us a look that said she knew we were up to something. “What's going on, Kenna?"