“Alex and I are going to take a walk,” I called from the foyer. “Just to enjoy the ocean. We’ll be back shortly.”
“If you see any trash, please pick it up,” Alexa said. She was in the living room, sprawled out on one of the sofas with an iPad in her hands. “If you need a bag or something, I can find you one.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Daniella said from the other end of the sofa. “They’re going for a walk. They want some time alone together—and who can blame them amidst this chaos? Their walk isn’t about cleaning up the world, Alexa. It’s about having a moment to themselves. God, you’re selfish.”
“Selfish? I’m trying to save the planet, you piece of shit.”
“Here’s a better idea. Start saving yourself and get laid. All of us will be grateful for it. It will relax you.”
“Girls,” Blackwell said from the kitchen. “That’s it.”
“Sorry,” Daniella said.
“What’s gotten into you, anyway?”
“Her boyfriend dumped her,” Alexa said. “Turns out Mark wasn’t an idiot after all. He got out while he could.”
“Fuck you, Alexa. I told you not to say anything.”
“Time to go,” I said to Alex, whose hand already was on the doorknob. “We’ll see you later,” I said to them. And then, just as Blackwell came into the living room and looked down at Daniella with concern, we got out, shut the door behind us, reached for each other’s hand, and took the path down to the beach.
“Poor Barbara,” I said.
“They’re a handful.”
“Maybe we should rethink having children. Those two make we want to adopt a kind-hearted thirty year old who already is devoted to us and accomplished in his or her field.”
That brought out his dimples. “You know,” he said, “that’s not such a bad idea.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “We’re so having children.”
“A brood of them.”
“Don’t slip,” I said. “It’s icy here.” We cut through a few trees, and finally, there was the ocean before us, with the sun shining low upon it. “Look at it,” I said. “Isn’t it beautiful? And smell the air. We need to come here more often. I love it here. Look how many shells there are on the beach. Did you ever come here during the winter?”
We started walking down the beach, the sand of which was so hard and flat, it was surprisingly easy to walk upon.
“Once, I think. But I was really young. I barely remember it. Mostly, we came during the summers.” He turned to me as if a thought just occurred to him. “Where are Lisa and Tank?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw Tank come in with Barbara, but then he disappeared. Earlier, I had a talk with Lisa about their relationship, and then I left her alone in her bedroom to think about what she wants to do if it things don’t work out between them. At some point, Tank’s got to make a move. Lisa has tried in her own way, but despite writing about zombies, she’s the romantic type. She wants to be swept off her feet. She’s given him three months to do so, and I can tell you that she’s not going to wait for him forever. In fact, she told me if he doesn’t make some sort of effort soon, she’s out.”
“That’s a shame. I like them together.”
“Everyone does. It’s frustrating.”
He stopped walking just as the wind kicked up my hair and lifted the bottom of my coat. When he pulled me toward him and held my face in his hands, it was cold and raw when he kissed me on the lips. I kissed him back, grateful that we could have a moment to ourselves. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “And I’m so happy. I want you to know how happy I am. I don’t think I say it often enough.”
“You say it to me every morning, and every night before we go to bed.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I love you, Alex. And do you know what I love more?”
“What’s that?”
“That the master suite is all alone on the third floor. Far away from everyone else. You and I are going to have fun these next few nights—and there’s no way that anyone will hear us.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do say.”
“What if Daniella and Alexa come snooping?”
I hadn’t thought of that—and I wouldn’t put it past them. They were so bored out of their minds, it’s exactly something they’d do. Then it occurred to me. “There’s a door at the top of the staircase,” I said. “Is there a lock on it? Or could we put a lock on it?”
He thought about that for a moment, then he smiled. “You’re crafty. In fact, there is a lock on it.”
“Problem solved.”
“And if you’re wrong, we’ll just run into town and get a little hook for a lock. The bedroom is a ways from the staircase. That’s all we need.”
“Look at you,” he said. “By the sounds of it, you’d like to get in that bed now.”
“You have no idea.” I flicked the collar of his leather jacket. “This is doing me in. You in leather? I’ve never seen you in leather and jeans. It’s a turn-on. Especially how it fits so snuggly against your waist.”
“Now you’re going to get me hard.”
“So what if I do?”
He kissed me again, and this time he held me so close to him, that I could feel him growing hard against my leg.
“I wish there was a place that we could go.”
“We could go back to the house. Tell everyone we’re going to take a nap before dinner.”
“Daniella will call us out if Alexa doesn’t. They’ll bust us.”
“Want to get a room?”
“You’re killing me.”
“I’m serious.”
I looked at him and saw that he was serious.
“Is there a hotel around here?” I asked.
“You’re asking me?”
“Sorry. Just a little thick-headed right now. Actually, there are many hotels near us.”
“Want to hop into the SUV and take a ride?”
“You have such a way with words. What time is it?”
“Just past three. Dinner will be at six or so. How far are we from the nearest hotel?”
“Maybe ten minutes? There’s a Hampton Inn near Ellsworth. I saw it when we were driving here. It’s right at the corner of Route One and Route Three.”
He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket.
“What are those?”
“The keys to the SUV.”
“I thought Tank had the keys.”
“You think there’s only one set? Come on. Are you up for this?”
“We are so going to get it for this.”
“Who cares?”
He was right. Who cared? We were engaged and in a committed relationship. Who gave a damn if we stole a couple of hours away for ourselves?
Still, I wasn’t about to have anyone worry about us if we were gone too long. So, I removed my phone and texted Lisa. “Alex and I are taking the SUV and going into town to do a bit of shopping of our own. There might be a few things that we forgot to get people. Would you mind spreading the word that we’ll be back in a few hours? Thanks! Love you!”
“There,” I said.
“What did you do?”
“I texted Lisa. I just covered our asses. So, let’s go. I can’t wait until tonight. I want you now.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When we arrived at the hotel, we went to the front desk, Alex paid the clerk in cash for the room, and we stepped away from the woman noticeably without any bags.
“Total walk of shame,” I said in a low voice to Alex when we moved toward the elevator and he pressed the button to call the car. “Did you see the look on her face? Absolute judgment and disapproval. And so close to the holidays. Where’s her Christmas spirit?”
“In a bucket of coal.”
“It isn’t as if we’re the first ones to use this as a no-tell motel.”
When the elevator doors slid open, we stepped inside, Alex pinned me against the wall, and as he began to kiss me o
n the neck, mouth, and breasts, I looked up and saw a security camera pointed down at us from the elevator’s front-left corner.
“We’re being video taped. She’s totally watching us right now.”
He ground himself against my thigh, and then he lightly nibbled on my ear. “That so? They have a camera in here?”
“Just over your shoulder, pointed down at us.”
“Does that turn you on?”
“Not with her looking on.”
“Too bad the car is already slowing. If we were in Manhattan, think of the damage we could have done if we had fifty floors instead of just three.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. We left the car, walked down a bright hallway that looked newly remodeled, found our room, and went into it. I was pleasantly surprised. It smelled fresh, it looked clean, it had modern decor, and it had a king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all we needed right now. Score.
“Throw me down on the bed,” I said to him.
“Get out of your coat first.”
“Rip it off me.”
“Unbutton it first.”
I tugged at the buttons in frustration. They were so large, they were difficult to unfasten. “I want you.”
“I want you more.”
“I want you to take me hard.”
He smiled at that, and then he leaned forward and kissed me fiercely on the lips. “You think I’m going to be easy on you?”
“You better not be. Get out of your clothes.”
He whipped off his jacket, then his shirt. “So, what? Now you’re a dominatrix?”
I admired his broad chest, the corded muscles that rippled down his abdomen. He was still slightly tanned from our month on the island, and his skin looked incredibly soft to me.
“Let’s take it one fetish at a time,” I said. “At this point, I’m apparently a certified exhibitionist. We’ll see what happens later.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I might even lash you.”
“With what?”
“My tongue.”
“I’d be into that.”
Finally I released myself from my coat, which I tossed onto a chair. I pulled my shirt over my head, then I took off my bra and flung it on the floor, exposing myself to him. He looked longingly at me before he removed his shoes and tossed them across the room. We both pulled off our pants and then he leaned forward and kissed me on the neck. Again, his stubble, which made my nipples feel as if they were about to explode. His breath was hot and moist, and it smelled of mint. I had to close my eyes and focus, or I’d never make it to the bed. “At the very least, you’re taking off my panties,” I said.
“With pleasure.”
He kneeled in front of me and slowly drew them down so I could step out of them. And when I did, he grabbed my ass and buried his face between my legs with such passion, I had to hold on to the top of his head just to steady myself. I whimpered aloud while his tongue darted in and out of me. He flicked it over my folds and my clitoris, and I immediately became wet.
He pushed a finger inside of me, and I groaned while he began to stroke and search for that one place that always sent me over the edge. When he found it, he knew it because my knees gave a bit.
He was playing me like an instrument he’d already mastered, which at this point he had. There were times when I felt he knew my body better than I knew it myself. My head fell back at the sensations coursing through me and at one point, I cried out in pleasure. I grabbed a fistful of his hair as he probed deeper—now he had three fingers inside of me, all doing things to me that was approaching the unbearable.
And then it was unbearable.
Just when I started to skate toward climax, he covered my clit with his mouth and tasted it with rhythmic strokes of his tongue until I came.
Before I could recover, he stood, lifted me up, and tossed me back onto the bed as I’d asked him to earlier. “Is that how you wanted it?” he asked.
“You could have been rougher. Take off your underwear. That’s right. In fact, that’s perfect,” I said, looking at his cock. I admired him for a moment, especially his exquisite torso and how his narrow hips and pelvic muscles conspired to create the perfect V that pointed toward what I wanted most. “Get over here.”
With a mischievous look on his face, he crawled onto the bed, his heavy erection fell onto my stomach, and then his lips met my nipples, which he sucked on and bit until I groaned and writhed beneath him. I grabbed hold of his sleek shoulders, ran my hands down the length of his muscular arms, and then I brought my hands up to the cleft in his back, which was so deep, I thought that it was impossibly sexy.
“Take me,” I said.
“What if I want you to wait?”
“Why would you want me to wait?”
“Because I’m not finished doing this to you yet.”
He slid his body down across the length of mine, kissing my breasts and my belly until he found my sex with his mouth, and expertly brought me to my second orgasm faster than I expected. I arched my back and reached out for the bedspread, clutching it in my hands while he inserted a finger inside of me again and started to search for the spot he’d found only a moment ago. When he found it, I lost control.
“I want you to come for me again, Jennifer.”
“If you’re going to keep doing—oh, my God.”
“That’s right.”
“This is insane.”
“You said you wanted it rough.”
I did. I looked down at him, met his eyes with my own, and drove myself further down onto his finger. He seemed to enjoy that, slipped another finger inside of me. and then another until I felt so full that I leaned back on the bed, cupped by breasts, and started to pinch my own nipples.
I stared up at the ceiling and felt myself begin to float. My heart began to race. For a moment, I felt as if I was drifting, that I wasn’t a part of my body, but then, when his thumb started to make circular motions over my clit, that was the end of it. I came crashing back into myself and climaxed again, this time so loudly, I was certain that if anyone were in the rooms on either side of us, they were right now questioning exactly what they heard.
When he withdrew his fingers, he was on top of me again, his lips were on mine, and with one brutal thrust, and entered me with such force, that it took my breath away.
I reached up and held his face with my hands while he pounded into me. He’d never been this forceful with me, but it’s what I’d asked for, it’s what I wanted to experience with him, and I was glad for it. I met each of his thrusts with my own. I reached around, gripped his ass, and pushed him deeper inside of me. Then I slapped his ass, which startled him to the point that he looked at me with a surprised, wicked grin.
“You’re in a mood,” he said.
I flipped him over on the bed and started to ride him. “You have no idea,” I said. I placed each of my hands on his chest, and bucked against him while he bucked into me.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said.
But at that point, I was at a loss for words. What I was feeling was too intense for me to speak. For the next hour, we thrashed about the bed in positions I’d yet to experience with him. Who was this person? He was gifted in ways that he hadn’t shown me before, and I loved it. He’d been a bit rough with me before, but nothing like this.
When he came, I was right there with him, sitting in his lap, holding him tightly with my arms around his back. Our bodies were hot and slick with sweat. I reached for the back of his hair when he pressed his face between my breasts and then I came a final time before falling off him and slumping onto the bed.
“Oh, my God,” I said.
He leaned toward me and kissed me on the lips. “Shower?” he asked.
“What’s going to happen in there?”
“Round two.”
He reached for my hand, led me off the bed, took me into the bathroom, and we made love under a warm shower for the next thirty minutes. Later, when we were spent and our bodies felt as if they had the
consistency of rubber, we pulled ourselves together, I blew out my hair and tied it a ponytail—which isn’t how I wore it when I left the house—and looked at myself in the mirror. My face was free of makeup, but it was nothing if not glowing. Still, who was I fooling? I was about to take another walk of shame again, this time in front of our friends.
When Alex was finished drying his hair, we got dressed, I told him that I loved him while we put on our coats, and then he swept me into his arms before we left the room.
“I love you more than anything,” he said. “More than you’ll ever know.”
I put my hand against his chest and kissed him. “Thank you again,” I said.
“For what?”
“For helping me with those flyaway resumes that day.”
He smiled at that.
“I can’t wait to tell people the date of our wedding,” I said.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night, indeed. A perfect Christmas Eve.”
And with that said, we hurried to get home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw when we arrived back at Alex’s house on the Point.
When we stepped into the foyer, Christmas music was playing from an iPod dock on one of the living room side tables. What was playing was one of my favorite Christmas albums from my youth, “Barbra Streisand: A Christmas Album,” which had one of the saddest and most stirring renditions of “I Wonder as I Wander” and “My Favorite Things” that I’d ever heard. With the exception of Streisand’s campy version of “Jingle Bells,” which begins the album and which did make me smile when I was a kid, there otherwise was a haunting, melancholy undercurrent to the music that I responded to.
When I was growing up, Christmas never was a joyous event at my house—far from it—and Streisand’s album made sense to me that way. It underscored that for people like me, Christmas could be among the darkest and loneliest times of the year. Streisand’s album refused to embrace the happier illusion marketed to the masses via so many lighter, popular Christmas songs. To me, it told an unsettling truth about Christmas that few wanted to acknowledge—for many, Christmas was the worst, most depressing time of the year.
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