by Regina Frame
“Why didn’t you text me to let me know you were here? I would’ve come down to help you.”
She blew a strand of hair that was hanging over her right eye. “Give me a break, Scrooge. One look at a Christmas package and you’ll break out in hives. I’m pretty sure you’d burst into flames if you had to touch one. I was really doing it for your own good,” she teased. She was damned adorable.
“I was willing to take a chance for you.” I buried my face in her hair and nipped at her earlobe. She shoved a large box against my chest, causing me to grunt.
“Help me get these to my room, please.” She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, that delicious tight ass of hers swaying side to side. My dick was growing by the second, threatening to break free of the black jeans I had on.
“Did you have a nice visit with your parents?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind and burying my nose in her hair. When I licked the little spot below her ear, she giggled. I’d grown rather fond of that sound over the past few weeks.
“I did,” she admitted. “What did you do while I was gone?”
“Nothing fun.” I squeezed her a little tighter, rubbing my hard dick against her ass. “I’m up for some fun now, though,” I growled, pushing her long hair over her shoulder and proceeding to kiss her from her earlobe to her shoulder, where I gently sucked.
“I can see that.” Her breath hitched when I slid my hand into her pants to caress her slick folds. Her back bowed and she panted as I worked my fingers in and out of her. “Oh, Grayson.” Her words were breathless as I stroked that sensitive bundle of nerves. I pulled her tight against me, rubbing myself against her like a damn horny teenager, and just as I thought I was about to blow, she yelled.
“Wait!”
“What? What?” I asked anxiously.
Had I hurt her? What had I done? She answered that question by turning in my arms and stripping me of all my clothes before stripping out of hers. Before I knew what was happening, she was on me. Her hands in my hair; her legs around my waist, grinding her wet pussy against me. I backed her up against the bedroom wall and hammered into her, over and over, until we both found our release and collapsed on the floor, a sweaty and breathless mess.
“What got into you?” I asked, working hard to regain my breath.
“You,” she answered, rolling her head to the side and smiling.
Her words weren’t meant to be taken as a joke. She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was saying I love you without the words.
GRAYSON
When I made it back to the office from my meeting across town, I found Phillip perched on the corner of Aubree’s desk, and whatever he was telling her was making her laugh. When her eyes met mine, they lit up and she flashed me a smile, but seeing Phillip sitting there, trying to move in on her, pissed me the fuck off.
“Are you here to see me?” I grumbled, coming to a halt beside him.
“No. I just stopped to say hello to Aubree. I wanted to find out what her holiday plans were. I got a sweet deal for a ski trip.” I turned toward Aubree to find her biting her lip in an effort not to smile. She saw this little competition going on between Phillip and I amusing. “Too bad, though. She said she doesn’t ski.”
“Yeah. Too bad,” I mumbled, walking into my office with Phillip on my heels. He dropped down into one of the chairs in front of my desk and glared at me.
“What?” I huffed.
“Gray, you’re jealous. You’ve got a thing for her.” He smirked. He was definitely proud of himself.
“I don’t see how my dating life would be any of your business,” I warned.
He pointed at me and grinned. “I knew it!” he accused. “The way you looked at me out there said it all. I thought you were going to punch me!” He chuckled. “Man. You need to work on your poker face.”
“Phillip?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“What?” he asked.
“If you do not leave my office now, I’m going to put you on your ass.”
We my eyes closed, I heard the chair move as he stood, then his gentle footsteps faded as he moved farther away and, likely, out the door.
“Where were you?” I looked up to see Aubree standing in the doorway of my office. “You were gone when I woke this morning.” I exhaled a heavy sigh and raked my hand through my hair.
“I had to meet a client for breakfast this morning,” I replied.
I had received an email from Bridget Prescott, asking to meet me for breakfast. She had gotten the email I’d sent, terminating our contract, and she was not happy about it. In fact, she’s threatening to go to the press and sell them a story about how New York’s most eligible Billionaire slept with his clients in his office. I had to go. I had to try and talk her out of it, because it had the potential to ruin me. No matter what I said, it wasn’t good enough for her, because what she wanted was me and I wasn’t going there again. I was already taken by the stunning brunette standing in front of me.
Aubree stood there watching me with wide green eyes filled with curiosity and waiting for me to say more, and when I didn’t, she turned and went back to her desk. I felt like complete shit.
***
“Did we get everything?” Aubree stood hunched over, digging through the Christmas presents we’d just loaded into the trunk of my car.
“Trust me. Every damn Christmas gift you bought is in the trunk,” I replied, a little harshly, as I closed the trunk of my black BMW.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Scrooge,” she uttered, and slammed the car door before I could open the door for her.
She’d been in a foul mood ever since I didn’t explain in detail about what the meeting was about nor why I had to meet someone so early. I had to do it, though. I couldn’t risk Bridget showing up at the office again and lashing out. Aubree was not stupid. She knew my schedule like the back of her hand. As a matter of fact, she didn’t even wait to have lunch with me like we had for the past three weeks. She ate in the cafeteria with some of the other women, leaving me to eat alone. I hope seeing her parents would lighten her mood a little.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Aubree’s parents lived in a rundown neighborhood that backed up to the freeway, so there was a lot of noise from cars and trucks echoing in the background. I slid out of the car and practically ran around to the back and had the trunk open before Aubree could even get out. I gathered everything in my arms, and refused when she offered to carry some of them.
“We’re here!” she yelled.
Shoot me now! It looked like the north pole threw up in their small living room. There was a green Christmas tree in one corner with a few small presents placed underneath, and I hadn’t seen a console T.V. for years.
“You can just put those over there.” Aubree pointed toward the offending tree. When I turned around, she was gone. I could hear laughter in the other room, so that was where I went.
“It’s about time you got here! Your mother is driving me bat shit crazy about the damned mashed potatoes. I think they need more liquid, and she says no.” The old man grumbled. “See what you think about this, Aubree.” He placed a wooden spoon in the potatoes, and it stood straight up. My vote was for the old man. Those potatoes looked like wallpaper paste.
“Hello. My name is Grayson. I’m a friend of Aubree’s.”
I offered my hand, and he took it. He was much shorter than my 6 foot, 2 inch frame. Jim Layne stood maybe 5’10”, and up close, I could see that Aubree got her green eyes from him.
“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” Aubree’s mom, Olivia, began wiping her hands on the apron she had tied around her waist. “We’re so happy you’re here. Aubree tells us that she loves her work,” she voiced, smiling up at me. Aubree was the spitting image of her mother except for the eyes. Olivia’s were blue.
“Thank you for having me.” I really didn’t know what else to say.
“Come on, son. Let’s leave the hens to their clucking,” Aubree
’s father said, as he turned and walked toward the room with the tree.
My eyes flew to Aubree, trying to get a clue as to what I should do. Did I stay in the overheated kitchen with her and her mom, or go back out there with her father and that Godawful tree? She pointed toward the living room with a smile. The first one I’d seen all day.
“You watch football?” her dad asked, walking hunched over and lowering himself into the gold colored vinyl recliner with the duct tape on one arm.
“I used to, but I haven’t caught a game in years,” I admitted, taking a seat on the floral sofa. Something wasn’t right about this thing. The cushions were rock hard. Jim must have seen the look on my face.
“Had to put a board under there. The springs were going out, and we hated to throw out a perfectly good sofa.”
I gave him a nod in understanding. Only, I didn’t understand. I’d never known what it was like to live like this. When I was growing up, if something broke, we got rid of it and bought another one. They didn’t have the luxury, and I intended to do something about that as soon as I got the chance.
Aubree’s laughter floated from the kitchen, causing my chest to tighten. Her laughter was like a song, and I couldn’t help but smile while thinking about how her eyes lit up, and her button nose crinkled when she did it.
“So, who’s playing?” I motioned toward the football game on T.V.
“It’s Alabama’s bowl game. They’re playing for the championship.”
I nodded my head in understanding. When awkward silence set in, I took over.
“Are you retired, or still working?” His head swiveled toward me, and looked me over from my black sweater to the toes of my Armani shoes.
“Hell. I’m still working. We couldn’t afford all this if I didn’t.” He rubbed his knee and winced as if he were in pain.
“Jim!” Aubree’s mom shouted from the kitchen.
“How many times have I told you not to yell at me, woman?” It took him several tries to stand from the chair, but he made it before I could offer my help.
“Well, what do you expect if you don’t wear your hearing aide?” she complained as we walked into the kitchen.
“The battery died in the damn thing,” he grumbled.
“Well, you don’t need a hearing aide to carve a turkey.” Mrs. Layne passed him a large fork and a knife. I had to question if that was a safe thing. He paused, holding up the carving utensils, and eyed me.
“Son, if I could offer you one bit of advice, don’t marry a bossy woman. She’ll nag your ass all the time!”
Aubree laughed from across the small room where she was placing miss matched dinner plates and what looked like plastic glasses on the table.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I doubt that will happen to Grayson,” Aubree insisted.
What exactly did she mean? Was it the part about marrying a bossy woman, or marriage in general? My views on marriage had changed since I met her. I was not saying I wanted to run out and get married, but, I could definitely see her as a part of my life.
“Okay, everybody. Let’s eat so we can open gifts,” her mom said, placing the turkey in the middle of the table beside several other dishes.
“I’m going to eat in front of the T.V. My game is on.” Mr. Layne stood from the table, only to be stopped in his tracks by his wife.
“Are you watching that damn Alabama game again?” The old man rolled his eyes, and she pursed her lips. “Jim, we have company. It would be rude to eat in the other room. Besides, you watched that game last weekend. It’s 2015 for crying out loud! You know how it ends!” she scolded him.
The whole time, Aubree watched her parents with a loving smile on her face.
When we finished eating, we all went into the living room, and Aubree started grabbing presents. Shit! I didn’t think about buying presents. My family had never exchanged gifts, so it was something I was brought up doing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a chance to go shopping,” I lied. I bought for Aubree, but no one else. Well, technically, her gifts would benefit me.
“It’s okay. I put both of our names on the gifts I bought,” Aubree whispered as she placed two wrapped boxes in my lap before taking a seat on the floor in front of me.
“You sit here.”
I tried to stand, but she wouldn’t let me.
“Ever since Aubree was a child, she’s sat in that exact spot to open gifts.” Her mom’s smile beamed.
Everyone began unwrapping their presents, so I joined in. I got a new pair of socks, red and white stripe, just like a candy cane, and a pair of black mittens.
“Oh, Aubree!” her mom shrieked as she looked at the new coffee maker she’d just opened. “You shouldn’t have spent your money on us. The one we have is working just fine.”
“I know, Mom, but this one has the capability of setting the timer so that your coffee is ready when you wake up, unlike the one you bought at a garage sale last year. Besides, I know how Daddy hates waiting for his coffee to brew.”
The look of love on Aubree’s face caused a foreign emotion in me. Her family was happy with the simple things in life. They didn’t need expensive things and flashy trinkets to be happy. They had love, and that was one thing missing from my family. The most important thing.
***
“I like your parents,” I admitted to Aubree on the ride back to the apartment. She stared out the window for several long seconds before she spoke.
“Yeah. They’re great, but I worry about them. My mom hasn’t worked for as long as I can remember, and my dad’s health isn’t that great right now. He needs to go to the doctor, and my mom told me yesterday that he refuses to go.” She sniffled. I was pretty sure she was crying, but it was dark and I couldn’t see her eyes.
“Why do you hate Christmas?” she asked.
I exhaled a heavy breath. She may as well know what she was in for at dinner tomorrow night with my folks.
“When I was growing up, my parents didn’t do much other than golf at the country club or host cocktail parties. I was basically raised by nannies. I’m talking at least four, because my mom caught every one of them having sex with my father. The first time it happened was on Christmas day. That was when she moved into one of the other bedrooms and started sleeping by herself. She went to shrinks, who prescribed her valium along with a few other pills, which she mixed with alcohol. I went into the kitchen one day with the letter that all kids write to Santa, telling him how they’d been a good kid, along with a list of things wanted for Christmas. I remember her laughing so hard that she spilled her glass of wine. She was so pissed. She took my letter and crumpled it into a ball and proceeded to tell me that neither Santa nor the Easter Bunny was real. I was crushed.
“Future Christmases came and went. She stopped putting up a tree, and holiday dinners were served by a chef. I remember my dad leaving early Christmas Eve and didn’t come back until after the New Year. As I got older, I noticed that he was spending more and more days at the country club to play cards and smoke cigars. When I got old enough to drive, I followed him to the club one day to spy on him. Golfing, cards, and cigars wasn’t all my old man was doing. He was screwing around on her, and I think she knew that. She became bitter, and my old man no longer cared,” I explained.
“I’m so sorry,” Aubree whispered from beside me. “Did your dad not work? He didn’t have a job to go to everyday?” I laughed.
“My old man wouldn’t know a job if it bit him in the ass. My parents came from money that was handed down generation after generation. They’ve never had to work a day in their life,” I said sarcastically.
“Hmm.”
“What?” I asked.
“My dad has owned a landscaping business his whole life. I don’t ever remember a time when he didn’t work hard.” She choked a little on her words. Was she trying to hold back tears? “When I was little, I’d hear his truck pulling in and I’d run outside to greet him. He would always tell me, ‘I’m dirty, sweet pea, and I stin
k. You don’t want to ruin that pretty dress your momma made, do you?’ He would say it every day, and every day, I ignored it. After I hugged him, he’d always give me a piggy back ride into the house.” She went silent for what seemed like forever. “My daddy would say he worked hard, so, someday, he could give me and Momma the moon.” She cried, which confirmed the crack in her voice earlier. I reached over and took her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together.
“My daddy refuses to get help because their insurance is state issued and won’t pay for half of the testing he needs, and because of that, he has had a hard time finding a doctor who will treat him without being paid upfront.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“We’re both from very different lives, yet we’re both sorry. I guess you could say we’ve both been dealt a shitty hand in the cards of life.” She sniffled again.
I honestly didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t.
“Do you mind if we make a stop before we go home?”
“That depends,” she responded.
“Just trust me, okay?”
She snorted, but said, “Sure.” Her tone was flat, almost unbelieving.
She gasped in surprise and her eyes lit up as we parked close to Rockefeller Center. The huge tree in the middle of the rink was decorated with probably thousands of lights in addition to all the Christmas decorations and surrounding lights.
“Why are we here? I would think this was the last place you wanted to be. You do realize when you step out of this car, there will be Christmas music and people dressed like Santa and his elves.” She lifted a brow. “See, there’s a gingerbread house right over there.” She pointed to the far corner of the rink.
“I’m well aware, Aubree.”
“Ooo-kay.”
I walked around to her side of the car and opened the door. When she stepped out, I helped her with her coat before wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her near. Burying my face in her hair, I breathed in the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo.
“Do you skate?” I asked.
She turned in my arms and looked up at me, her eyes widened.
