Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  Kirk started on Tasha’s shoulders, working on relieving her tension before he focused on the problem area. “A woman? I don’t remember… Anika? A blond woman?”

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled lowly, working the oil over her smooth, silky skin. “That’s my cousin. We were born on the same day and have always been close. She’s been overseas so it’s been years since I saw her last. You’ll like her.”

  She seemed to melt into the table, all tightness dissolving and washing away. “I’m sure I will. I like your mom.”

  His cheeks flared again, remembering the horrid tales she’d been telling. “Yes, I’m glad.” His hands slid down past the small of her back and to the right.

  Tasha flinched when he brushed the tight knot that lay beneath a red patch of skin. He probed a little further and then moved to the good hip, making all the same movements he would apply to the bad.

  “Not that I don’t love your hands on me, but it’s the other hip that hurts.”

  He chuckled and smacked her bottom. “I know that. Sympathetic response.” He moved back to the bad hip to find the knot already less tangled. After a few passes he asked, “Too painful?”

  She sucked breath through her teeth. “Not too bad. It hurts, but a good hurt.”

  His pants grew tighter again. “I love giving you the good hurt.”

  Her smell intensified. “So do I. I wish we could do that right now.”

  “So do I. Until then.” He blew across her back where sweat had popped out again.

  She gasped and arched her back slightly. “Ow. Good ow, ow.” Her movement had pulled against the knot he was working out.

  “Shit, shouldn’t have done that. Couldn’t resist.” He leaned over and kissed the middle of her back.

  She sighed and relaxed at that. They were silent while he continued to pry his fingers into her lower back and hip.

  “Thank you.” Her voice wavered slightly.

  “For what? The massage? This is what I do.”

  She sniffed. “For looking for me. I…I’d still be out there.”

  “Shhh.” His hands moved to stroke down her back and over her hips, smooth long stripes. “Shh. I found you. That’s all that matters.” He left one hand on her bad hip. “How is that now?”

  She lifted herself and sighed. “A hundred times better.” She twisted and slipped onto her back, shifting down so her head fell on the table not the headrest. “I mean, I can still feel it, but I can move again. I thought I’d broken my leg.”

  Kirk stood beside her head, holding her hand. “Nope. No broken bones. Just some scrapes, a lot of bruises, and a twisted ankle.”

  “None of which will stop me for long.”

  “Certainly not. All the same.” He straightened, slipping his hands under her knees and behind her neck. Lifting, he shifted her back to the bed, climbing over the covers to lie beside her. “Do you have any idea how difficult the last week has been?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she frowned. “Why?”

  Rubbing his nose along hers, he kissed her gently. “Because I’ve been thinking about you every minute.” He paused, sighing and rolling onto his back. “Since last night, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’ll only get worse when you go home this time. I’m not keen on the long distance thing, so I’m considering leaving the Chalet.”

  Tasha sat up, eyes wide. “But, this is your family’s Chalet, your home. You’d really leave it? For me?”

  Propping himself on his elbow, he met her worried gaze. “I don’t want to leave. I work here because I love it, not because my family owns it. And yes, I would leave it to be with you.” He ran his fingers over hers, lacing them together over her belly. “I don’t want to pry, but what is keeping you from moving here? You’d be welcome. You can share my suite or we can set you up in one of your own.” Groaning, he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Kirk tucked his head into the side of her neck, kissing and nuzzling. “Forget I said anything.”

  ***

  Tasha’s mind reeled, trying to comprehend what Kirk had said, what he was saying, what it meant. She’d come back hoping for another whirlwind weekend of sex that would get him out of her system, but yesterday had made it obvious that there was no hope of doing that. He had left his mark on her and just as he’d said, she’d not gone a day without thinking about him, wanting to share things she enjoyed and complain about things that went wrong. She wanted him to spoon up with, to cuddle, in addition to mind blowing sex.

  His family owned the Chalet. That meant he had money, and that was probably the only reason he felt comfortable dropping everything to move to Toronto to be with her. Anyone else would worry about a job and a place to stay. Not Kirk Doehr.

  She expected that to raise her ire, to make her desire him less because he didn’t have concerns like hers. It didn’t. It made her love him more for his willingness to give up anything.

  Did he have to? Almost all her work was online. But what about family and friends in Toronto? Was there seriously anything holding her back? Not really.

  “I mean… I don’t… I could… Ah hell.”

  “Shh.” Kirk covered her lips with a finger. “Neither of us is doing anything until you’re feeling better.” He ran his hand down her side. “You are feeling better, right?”

  She smirked, noticing the bulge straining against his fly. She’d be lying if she said his massage had no effect on her libido. It not only made her skin tingle from scalp to toes, but it kept bringing back memories of a very naughty Santa.

  “I am.” She moved her leg to rest atop his and couldn’t quite prevent the wince that it triggered.

  “Lie back,” he suggested, freeing himself from pants and shorts.

  She didn’t obey, sitting up and wrapping her hand around him instead. Licking her lips, she leaned over.

  “Tasha? Oh, fuck.” He shivered as her lips closed around him, hand twisting around his shaft and pulling it closer. She didn’t have to bend far, leaving her hip completely cooperative.

  Releasing him with a pop, she looked up and batted her eyes. “Have you been naughty or nice?”

  “Naughty. Very naughty.”

  She continued to lick and suck, inching more of him into her mouth. Her hands alternated between ringing the base of his shaft, sliding over it when her mouth retreated, and fondling his balls, often drifting farther back toward his asshole.

  With another pop, she opened enough space between them to look up, stroking him inches from her breasts. “Nice?”

  “Naughty. Are you planning on wearing me?” His hand traced the outer curve of one of her breasts, making the already pointed nipple harden further. It set a series of goosebumps racing down her side.

  Rather than answer, she leaned forward, tapping the head of his cock on her chest. Her hand remained on the bottom half of his shaft, making the head peek up out of her cleavage.

  “Fuck that looks good.” Kirk took hold of her breasts, pressing them closer together. He slid between them, pumping his hips in time with her strokes.

  She could feel him throb moments before his eruption, and she tucked her chin, catching some of it on her lips while the rest splashed over her breasts.

  “Your turn.” He snaked an arm behind her knees, twisting her around so she lay on the edge of the bed.

  Bracing on her arms, she shifted a little more toward the center.

  “Tell me if this flares up.” He ran his still oily hand over her hip, cupping her ass. The other slipped into her folds, spreading the moisture waiting for him there.

  He climbed higher, his hand moving from her ass up over her hip and belly, then to her face, tracing her brow, her nose, the delicate curve of her ear. When their lips met, his fingertips sank into her cheek, holding there while his tongue did the probing.

  She met that kiss full on, sucking his lip between her teeth and rolling it between. Her hands wrapped around his neck, holding him close. The kiss moved to the nose, chin, ear, but never far from the lips
and always returning. Tasha poured her soul into that kiss, into his mouth, his heart.

  In the blinding passion of that kiss, she had to admit that she would give anything to keep this.

  “Kirk,” she murmured.

  He growled into her ear, moving his hand down over her belly to rest his palm on the apex of her thighs, cupping and holding her vulva in the palm of his hand. After holding still for a brief moment, she was shocked when her nerves woke with a vengeance as he slid two digits inside her, curled upward to hit her sweet spot with each stroke, and the heel of his palm rubbed across her swollen labia.

  Her sex and her heart, he'd seized both and she held her breath to see what he would do with them.

  Sliding away from her, he placed kisses over her breasts. His fingers uncurled and curled up again, digging into her g-spot.

  Arching her back, she pressed into his hand until her hip complained. She’d forgotten about the damn thing.

  He moved to sucking on her engorged nipples, one after the other, and she was easily distracted from the momentary twinge. Kirk trailed his tongue down the center of her abdomen while she squirmed against his fingers, her core aching for release. Even as she did, she knew the best was still to come.

  Sinking his lips over her swollen sex, he sucked her clit into his mouth and touched his teeth to it. Not a bite, but intense all the same. Reflex took her and she lifted her hips right off the bed.

  “Holy shit.” And he wasn’t stopping. His long fingers just kept working inside her and once she’d come back to the mattress, he flicked his tongue over her. Whimpering, she let go of the tension she’d felt since leaving him last time, the heartache that came from seeing him with another woman, the fear that she’d never be with him again. They all burned away in the heat of the orgasm he wrung from her. He withdrew his fingers at that moment and she burst over his hand as well.

  Kirk hummed as he moved lower, slurping and licking her clean.

  She tried to cover herself, the ongoing stimulation cascading in an endless spiral.

  He crawled over her, his chin glistening with her juices. Kissing her, he lowered himself carefully, pressing his body flat against hers. Rolling onto his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest. “I could move.” The words were so soft, she might have imagined them.

  “I could move,” she mused. “Wait! I need to do something.” She sat up and pushed him toward his massage table. “Get that out of here.” Planting her naked ass in the desk chair, she opened her laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard the moment the word processor opened the file.

  He read over her shoulder until she flipped the bird at him. Snickering, he dressed and packed up. “Let me know when you’re finished.” He kissed her cheek before slipping out the door.

  Seized by inspiration, she knew this was going to be worth the wait.

  Chapter Seventeen

  December 25th

  Tasha straightened the strap of her black dress. Then she touched up her lipstick and patted her hair. It was meant to make her feel more confident, remind herself that she was dressed to impress, before meeting Kirk’s family.

  It didn’t work.

  She emerged from the washroom, shoulders squared, taking purposeful strides. Her hip, thankfully, cooperated. There had been a few times yesterday when she stepped only to have her hip fold and threaten to drop her on the ground. Kirk had been there to catch her arm each time. Today, she hadn’t had any problems.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to one of the reception rooms. The sound blocked by the door echoed around her as soon as she opened it. Laughter, chatter, glasses clinking, and crinkling paper crashed over her. A dozen people sat in chairs near a decorated fir tree and several children ran about the room, some with adults chasing them as they laughed and giggled.

  Kirk jumped up and came to take her hand. “You look great.” He kissed her temple, avoiding her makeup.

  “Thanks. All of them?”

  “Yes. Here.” He escorted her toward the oldest couple in the room. Tasha recognized Mary, Kirk’s mother.

  “Ah, you made it. Fantastic. Can I pour you a cider? Or there’s egg nog or punch.” She waved toward a table covered in empty glasses and pitchers or bowls of liquid. An array of cookies, chocolate, and nuts filled the platters two of the youngest members of the family were raiding.

  “No, thank you. I’ll get one later. Hello, I’m Tasha.” She extended her hand to the man who she knew must be Kirk’s father.

  “Frans. I’m sorry you had a less than enjoyable stay, so far, but thrilled that you are recovering so quickly. Please, don’t feel you need to rush off. We will give you a complimentary room until you’re fully healed up.”

  “Thank you, Frans.”

  “Merry Christmas!” As Tasha turned away from Frans a woman enveloped her in a hug. “I’m Anika. It’s lovely to meet you.” European style kisses fell on her unsuspecting cheeks.

  Tasha looked to Kirk, recognizing the woman she had seen in his arms when she arrived a few days ago. Had it been three days? It felt both longer, in terms of recovery, and shorter, in terms of time spent with Kirk.

  “She’s my cousin. The one with the same birthday. Monika is her partner.”

  A woman with darker hair approached but opted to shake her hand rather than hug her.

  “Kirk, let her sit down.” The shout came from the other side of the Christmas tree.

  “That’s a good idea.” He led her to an empty chair next to another couple.

  “Presents!” one of the young women shouted. “Can we open more now?” There were six children ranging from ten to sixteen moving from opened presents to snacks and back.

  Mary rose and knelt next to the tree. “Yes. Give this one to Tasha, please.”

  The young woman bounced as she presented the gift. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Uh, thank you,” she said, taking the brightly wrapped box.

  “That Nell. She’s Lawrence's oldest.” Kirk pointed to another couple. “His wife is Penny.” The woman next to him accepted a box delivered by another child.

  “How old is she?” Tasha asked, her gaze following the girl.”

  “Twelve. Why?”

  Tasha shook her head. “I don’t spend a lot of time with kids. I wasn’t sure.”

  “Uncle Kirk.” The only boy among the youngsters handed him a gift. “It’s from us.”

  “Thanks, Peter.” Once the boy had gone on to deliver another gift, Kirk explained. “He’s Justin and Pearl’s son. They also have Veronica, Donna, and Jen.” He pointed to the girls. The youngest one had her nose in a shiny book with a pristine spine. No doubt it had just come out of wrapping paper.

  “That’s from us.” The woman sitting on Tasha’s right said. “I’m Teresa and my husband is Jacques.”

  “Thank you,” she said, still hesitating in unwrapping.

  “Go on,” Teresa encouraged her. “Oh! Look! Pearl’s opening hers.”

  The mother of the majority of the children peeled paper away from a large, relatively flat box. Her face lit up upon see the contents of the frame.

  “Thank you, Kirk!” she shouted from across the room. Eventually she managed to maneuver the piece aside and come give him a hug. The Beatles poster inside was slightly damaged in the corner, where it appeared to have been stapled.

  On Kirk’s other side, Mary opened a box to reveal a Swarovski crystal hummingbird and one of the girls opened a music case containing a saxophone. “Sweet, Uncle Jacques!”

  Tasha looked at the box in her lap, suddenly very wary.

  “Go on,” Kirk urged.

  Teresa joined him. “Yes. I can’t wait to see what you think.”

  Taking a deep breath, preparing herself for anything, she ripped off the paper.

  Inside was a book. Not a new book, stains marred the cover and the spine was well worn. It might have once had a dust jacket but it was long gone. She opened it at random and found a recipe for crepes.
r />   “Jacques copy of Julia Child. He has a large print copy now.” Teresa’s husband frowned at the back of his wife’s head, which made Kirk laugh.

  Kirk leaned in to whisper, “He’s head chef at The Bistro.”

  “Oh! Oh my.” Suddenly the stains and worn pages took on new meaning. “You’re sure I can have it?”

  “Of course. Teresa reassured. "I’m just glad you came along when you did. I don’t know how much longer I’d let him hang onto it. It’s been collecting dust for years.” It was her turn to make a face at him.

  “Well, thank you!” She smiled and flipped through, the pages naturally opening to the most used recipes. She wasn’t exactly much of a cook but she could learn.

  “Here, Tasha.”

  Startled, she let the cookbook fall into her lap and took another gift from one of the children. It was the one who had been reading earlier and she stood by while Tasha opened it.

  Although not eager to open another gift right away, Donna encouraged her. “Please. Open it.”

  It was smaller than the cookbook, but definitely book sized and the right shape. She pulled away the foil and a purple covered notebook fell into her hand.

  “Uncle Kirk said you’re a writer. I love to read, so I put quotes from my favorite books on some of the pages.”

  She flipped to one. “Travel far enough, you meet yourself. Cloud Atlas.” “This is lovely. Thank you so much, Donna.” She started to rise, but the girl bent down to hug her.

  “I’m glad you like it, Uncle Kirk said I can’t read your books yet. I hope I can soon.”

  Tasha’s cheeks burned all the way to the tips of her ears. She took pride in being an erotic author, in being damn good at it, but when a teen expressed a desire to read her books… It was flattering and awkward all at the same time. “Soon. Maybe.” Leaning to whisper to Kirk, she asked, “How old is she?”

  “Fifteen. Not long.”

  His lips and breath tickled her ear and she turned her head to meet his lips.

  Mary interrupted the chaste kiss. “I have another for you.” She held out a box covered in cascading ribbon. “Have we done well?”