by Lori Foster
Her turtleneck came next. Lee looped the garland around her waist and unclasped her bra. “Nobody’s gonna be sleeping,” she extemporized along with the words of the song.
“Not if I have my way,” said Lee in a low growl. The bra was flung across the floor, and Lee’s hands spread across her bare breasts. Allison switched her hips from a swing to a circle and Lee groaned.
They moved together, half-dance, half-seduction. Lee pulled off his sweatshirt and tee in one movement, moving all the time. He looped the strand of garland loosely around her waist and flipped open the buttons of her jeans. She shimmied out of them, leaning over to pull off her wool socks, intentionally giving him a candid view of her ass and the dental floss thong that was her underwear.
He shucked pants and socks and eased up behind her. He slipped his fingers inside the thong and pushed it down her legs. She stepped out of it and kicked it away with her toes. She was feeling absolutely giddy. Dancing naked in front of the Christmas tree. It was downright pagan. And incredibly liberating.
Another strand of garland was draped over her breasts, and Allison adjusted it so that it hid her nipples. The metallic sheen of the tinsel pieces tickled her skin and sent an electric shock deep to her groin.
Lee grasped the ends and crossed them over her back, looped them to the front again and leaned into her. Their bodies pressed together, warm skin rubbing against warm skin, Lee’s dick jerking each time she rubbed against it.
The music changed and a raunchy “Must Be Santa” was replaced by “Merry Christmas, Baby.” Allison spread her feet and bumped her hip against Lee’s crotch. He threw the garland down her front, but instead of pushing her to the floor, he reached between her legs and pulled the two ends across her crotch, up her butt, and tied them to the strand across her back.
“Merry Christmas, Baby,” Allison sang and turned to face him.
His face was flushed and he was staring at her torso like a man about to dive in. He licked his lips. Allison bumped her pelvis forward. He stepped closer. Ran his fingers over the ragged pieces of tinsel. His hands stayed an inch from her body, but she could feel the heat of him as he ruffled the pieces of foil.
She lifted her arms and gathered her hair onto the top of her head. And still she continued to sway and lift and circle her hips to the music. With a lurch toward her, Lee grasped her around the butt and lifted her up. Her legs went around his waist. Then he lowered her until his cock rested at the inviting opening between her legs.
“Guide me in,” said Lee in a choked voice. She released her grip of her thighs and reached between them. She found the pulsing length of him and slid it across her crotch. Lee bit his lip and swayed on his feet. She pushed him inside her and the sway became a rock, then a thrust. The music played on, but they left its steady four-four behind, as they accelerated, faster and faster, slamming into each other with more ferocity each time.
Lee shifted her weight into one arm. He captured her breast with his free hand. Pulled it gently and rolled the nipple between two fingers. Allison felt a surge of energy and increased the thrust of her hips into his.
The garland shifted and tightened around her, tickling her skin. Then the feel of it, the smell of the fresh spruce tree, the crackle of the fire all receded until the fire between them was the only thing left. Her eyes closed, her head fell back and there was nothing in her world but the two of them, each driving the other to completion. Each thrust escalating with more force than the one before.
Lee’s hand left her breast and traveled down until it found the place where they were joined together. He opened her with two fingers. Used a third to stimulate her to the point of exquisite pain. But she wasn’t ready to let go. She wanted to ride him forever.
But she couldn’t hold out and she fractured just as she heard Lee cry out as he came.
Allison collapsed against him and slowly slid down his body, her legs too weak to hold her anymore. Lee managed to get them to the sofa and knock the empty boxes onto the floor, before they collapsed in a heap on the soft cushions.
Lee’s heart was banging against hers and they were both breathing hard. They lay there, stunned, and then Lee found her mouth and he kissed her.
Allison’s eyes grew heavy. Her body floated. And she felt peaceful. At length, Lee sat up, resting on his knees between her feet, his hands resting on her knees.
He look poleaxed. His dick was still semierect and if she could do it without moving, she would have sucked him back to full erection. But he was too far away and she couldn’t get her arms or legs to work.
Lee’s stomach growled. The tranquility burst.
Allison pushed herself to her elbows. “You’re hungry,” she said, resigned. Men were always hungry after sex. She hoped that didn’t equate in some way to the satisfaction they got from sex. Or lack thereof.
“Yeah, well.” Lee glanced at his wristwatch, the only thing he was wearing. He jumped to his feet. “Shit.”
Allison’s heart sank. He must have to make a call, or try to get to the airport again or do something else that didn’t involve her.
He grabbed her by her wrists and hauled her to her feet.
“It’s six-fifteen,” said Lee, throwing clothes toward her.
“So, it’s not like we’re going anywhere soon,” said Allison and tried to sit down on the couch.
“The Christmas Eve Revels. They’ve already started.” Lee yanked on boxers and jeans, uncovering Allison’s thong in the process. He tossed it toward her. “Hurry up.”
Allison yawned. “I think I’ll just stay here.”
The look Lee turned on her made her feel like the Grinch.
“Oh, all right, little boy. Maybe Santa will have everything on your list.”
“I doubt it,” said Lee. At least that’s what Allison thought he said; it was hard to tell since he’d pulled his sweatshirt over his head as he spoke.
She unwound the garland that was looking a little worse for wear and changed into her clothes. They’d grown cold while she and Lee were playing. And she had no doubt they would be getting colder before they finished listening to carols on the green. At least the village hall would be heated. Even if they did have to sit through an interminable Christmas pageant with the audience oohing and aahing over children she and Lee wouldn’t know. What were the chances of the cider being hard?
She pushed her feet into her turquoise boots, shrugged into the down parka and found her leather gloves crumpled in the pockets. Lee was dressed and looking impatient. Two cameras were hanging around his neck, a digital and his old standby, a battered Nikon, with telephoto lens.
“You’re weird,” said Allison and opened the front door.
The minute they stepped outside, the distant melody of “Adeste Fidelis” rose from the far side of town. They followed it to the green, which was completely filled with people. The whole area had been cleared down to the last foot of snow, probably by elves, thought Allison as she scrambled over the frozen snow. A choir stood on the band shell. The choirmaster faced the crowd and was leading them in the song, though Allison could already tell that those in back were a half-beat behind those in front. It made a funny warbling effect that was totally charming.
She and Lee threaded their way through the crowd until they found a space closer to the band shell. He flipped his camera out of the case and began taking closeups of the people around them. They didn’t seem to notice. Which was good, because it was kind of a philistine sort of thing to do, with everyone full of good cheer and singing their little hearts out.
Allison caught herself humming along, and pretty soon an occasional word, forgotten for years, found its way to the surface. By the time they got to “Once in David’s Royal City,” her voice was ringing out with the others. And, oddly enough, Lee’s camera hung at his side and his voice rose next to hers and she realized that this was the first time she had ever heard him sing.
He smiled at her and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I didn’t know you could
sing.”
She stared at him in the shadows made by swags of little white lights that ran overhead. He couldn’t mean it. She sang all the time. Or maybe not. She tried to think back to the last time she had sung out loud, other than this afternoon to the disco Christmas CD.
She drew a blank. Couldn’t come up with the last time she’d been to church or sung along with the radio or in the shower. God, I don’t sing, she thought, panicked. At least not when she was with Lee. And he didn’t sing when he was with her.
That really must say something about their relationship. Their ex-relationship. Why their relationship didn’t work out.
“Humbug,” she said.
Lee’s mouth opened, not in song but in astonishment. Allison blushed to the roots of her hair. Or at least would have, if she ever blushed. Which she didn’t.
One carol led into another, and as the night wore on, Lee stood closer, and she could feel his body warmth through their coats. She felt like they belonged, like she belonged, and she didn’t know whether to feel all fuzzy inside or run screaming for the nearest helicopter.
But then they were being pulled along by the crowd toward the open doors of the village hall. Bright yellow lights shone from inside. And the smell of hot cider wafted out to them as they waited their turn to file up the steps.
They stopped just inside the door and looked around. Pine boughs and ribbons hung from the rafters. A huge tree stood to one side of the stage and rose to the ceiling. At the other side, a dilapidated upright piano was pushed against the wall.
Allison felt Lee and her being gently nudged aside, as others entered behind them. And, sure enough, there were the expected oohs and aahs, and some of them were coming from her.
Children raced past to get a closer look at the tree. Allison’s throat constricted and she felt an uncomfortable urge to burst into tears. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was all part of the setup. She had to admit it was a perfect place to bring the kiddies for Christmas. And she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Lee as a totally inappropriate thought popped into her mind. Only this one didn’t have to do with sex. But what the outcome of sex might be, at the right time, with the right person. And Allison’s biological clock started beating time with the “Little Drummer Boy.”
Fortunately the lights flickered at that moment changing her focus. Two slender women, wearing matching calf-length wool skirts and twin sets, stepped in front of the curtain. One stood at the side of the stage while the other took her place at the piano. A hush fell over the crowd and everyone turned to face the stage.
The lights dimmed until only those shining on the apron of the stage remained lit. A few tinny notes rose from the piano and the woman onstage began to recite, “And there were shepherds…” The heavy black curtain parted in a series of jerks and creaks.
Sure enough, four shepherds—each three feet tall, wearing striped robes and pieces of cloth tied around their heads with twine—stood side by side. Their crooks faced in different directions. One shepherd was picking his nose. The shepherd next to him smacked his hand. A titter ran through the audience.
“And suddenly a star…”
On cue, a glittery cardboard star swung out above their heads. It continued to swing back and forth until it settled off to one side. The shepherds pointed at it and began to walk toward it. The bottom of the nose-picker’s crook caught the third shepherd on the ankle and he tottered forward; but they all managed to stay upright until they got offstage and the Three Wise Men entered.
The Wise Men were a little older and better rehearsed and managed to follow the star without a hitch. There was a blackout onstage. And the sounds of shuffling and scraping in the dark. The piano music changed to “Away In A Manger.” The lights popped on to reveal a tableau of a little Mary and Joseph, a cradle with a doll in it, and the shepherds and Wise Men kneeling around them. Allison recognized the holy family as the children they’d met at the general store, Jen and Jamie. Even their puppy was there, stretched out by the cradle, representing the lowly oxen, no doubt.
The curtain closed, reversing the series of jerks and creaks, and applause and talking broke out. Hot cider was passed around.
Then, from outside, the sound of sleigh bells. All faces turned toward the side door, which swooshed open.
“I gotta get this,” said Lee and disappeared into the crowd. Allison pressed forward to see. Chris Olsen burst through the opening, ho-ho-hoing in a voice that resounded through the room. From everywhere, children squeezed past adults until they were sitting at his feet beneath the tree.
Half-dressed shepherds and Wise Men bounded through the opening in the curtain and jumped off the stage. Mary, Joseph and Spanky followed behind, and when Joseph took too long to jump, Mary gave him a shove, then jumped down after him.
Spanky ran back and forth across the stage until the pianist took pity on him and lifted him down to the floor. The puppy immediately headed for Santa, yipping and jumping at his black boots. Santa ho-hoed louder and began to pass out presents.
Allison could see Lee kneeling at Chris’s side, getting closeups of the children as Santa handed them their gifts. He looked as excited as the children.
This time she couldn’t stop the tears that blurred her vision. She mentally kicked herself for falling into that trap. Thinking of Lee as the Happy Daddy. Happy Daddy would probably never even be home for Christmas, would just send a card or make a quick call from Timbuktu. She surreptitiously wiped her eyes.
Hadn’t he left her stranded at the LA airport, just because she was two days late? It wasn’t like she did it on purpose. Everyone in her department had worked overtime that year. She’d left straight from the office and taken a cab to the airport after forty-eight hours without sleep. Drunk coffee during the entire flight and put on makeup in the airplane toilet, so she would look good when she arrived. Except that when she got there, there was only a note, left with the airline desk, saying he couldn’t wait. Or wouldn’t, was more like it. So, after all she had gone through, she spent Christmas alone at the Sheraton LAX. So much for a future together.
Finally the presents had all been handed out. Santa called out “Merry Christmas!” and took his leave.
Then Lee was by her side, smiling. She sniffed and turned away. The lights dimmed again. He slipped his arm around her and squeezed.
White candles with paper holders were passed to each person in the room. Two candles were lit. Those people turned to light the candle of the next two people. As each person’s candle was lit they turned to light another, over and over again until the room was filled with winking light.
The pianist began to play “Silent Night.” Group after group joined in singing until the carol joined the flames to fill the room.
Allison saw Chris Olsen, changed back into his overalls, slip quietly into the room and take a candle. Everywhere couples stood together, husbands and wives, parents and children, teenagers, old people, all singing like there was no tomorrow.
“Marry me.”
Allison stopped singing, stopped breathing. That was Lee’s voice. She must be hearing things, because she thought he said—she looked again. Lee was looking at her, horror on his face.
Holy shit. He had said what she thought he said. He’d been swept up in the spirit that was tangible around them. And now he was regretting it. Allison steeled herself and gave him what she hoped was an ironic look.
“I love people like you. A sucker for every marketing ploy. They should test Hallmark cards out on you.” She immediately regretted her words. He hadn’t done it on purpose to hurt her. It had just slipped out. She couldn’t blame him for falling for all the Christmas feel-good stuff. She knew how it worked. It was what she did for a living. This was the kind of response she was paid to achieve. Make people buy things against their will. And these people were good. Even she was succumbing to it.
Lee turned away and began looking everywhere but at her.
Allison gritted her teeth. Now they wo
uld have to sit out the rest of the week in total discomfort. She should have pretended she hadn’t heard him. But she’d been so shocked that she’d immediately started defending herself. Before he could take it back, or say he was kidding or pretend that wasn’t what he’d said to begin with.
She looked up and saw Chris Olsen standing in a group across the room. Their eyes met. He shook his head. Allison lowered her eyes. It was almost as if he’d heard their conversation and was disappointed. When she looked again, he was gone.
The revelers began to leave, carrying their candles out into the night. They dispersed through the darkness, calling out, “Merry Christmas!”—their voices growing quieter, quieter, until there was no sound at all, just the flicker of tiny lights as they returned to their homes.
Lee and Allison were quite alone. Walking back to their little chalet, like two strangers.
They didn’t talk, just stared at their own candles as if keeping them lit by sheer willpower. It was better than talking. Allison had no idea what to say. Better to act like nothing had happened. Give Lee the chance to breathe easy again.
When they reached the front steps, Lee blew out his candle and tossed it into the snow, then went to open the door. Allison snatched it up and slipped it into her pocket, then blew out her own candle and followed him inside.
Five
Lee rummaged in the fridge, waiting to see what Ally would do. How she would react, if she reacted at all. He wasn’t hungry anymore, hadn’t been for the last half hour. What had possessed him to blurt out something like “Marry me,” in the midst of a crowd of strangers? Maybe he was possessed.
Yeah, by all that schmaltzy Christmas stuff, with the little kiddies and Santa and the cider. Jesus. What had he been thinking? She was married to her family’s ad agency and he was married to his camera. It was pretty pitiful, but what were the choices? He couldn’t exactly picture them living…where? Denver? LA? He’d never want to raise a family in LA.
