His Christmas Gift ; Decadent Holiday Pleasures

by Janice Sims

  Adam watched as Alia Joie’s face scrunched up in a huge grin. “Van Cleef & Arpels is where Dad buys jewelry for Mom!” she said. “Mmm-hmm. Don’t make me cry. Good night, baby brother. I love you.”

  She ended the call, placed the phone on its charger and turned to face him. “Chance proposed to Petra.”

  He was busy propping himself up on the headboard, shoving pillows behind his back until he was satisfied. “That’s great. How long have they known each other?”

  “Around six months,” Alia Joie answered, her eyes animated. Then she went on to tell him the fantastical-sounding tale of Petra Gaines being someone akin to Tarzan in the Congo and how she was single-handedly saving the chimpanzees in Equatorial Africa and that their network was going to premiere a television show about her life in a matter of weeks.

  “Boy,” he said, after she paused to catch her breath. “I’ve missed a lot while I’ve been gone.”

  Alia Joie laughed, turned off the lamp on her side of the bed and snuggled up to him. “What are you going to do about getting a new phone? You going to go to a store or order one online?”

  He shrugged. “Having been without one for so long, I don’t even miss it. But I suppose I’ll get online tomorrow and order one.”

  She was looking at him with a smile curling her luscious lips, and her cinnamon-colored eyes left no question in his mind that she was delighted to have him sharing her bed tonight. He reached over and switched off the light on his side of the bed, and they lay in each other’s arms in the dark except for the faint illumination of the streetlights through the window blinds.

  She yawned. “It’s been some day. Welcome home, sweetie.”

  “Thank you, my joy,” he said. Her head was on his chest and he enjoyed the feel of her soft braids as he tenderly ran his fingers through them. She smelled so good and her body, with its feminine curves, reminded him that he did, indeed, still possess the normal reactions a real man had when presented with sexual stimuli. His manhood would soon be making a tent in his pajama bottoms. He lay motionless with his arm around her until he heard her steady inhalations and exhalations, denoting sleep.

  Then he sighed deeply with relief.

  This is just the first night, he told himself. I’m going to get over this. Whatever this is.

  * * *

  December came in like a roaring lion, or so that was how Alia felt when she was outside trying to walk against the blistering cold winds tearing around corners on New York City streets. She’d gone back to work about a week after Adam’s return. Youngblood Media required their marketing department to be in full gear whether her head was in the game or not. Plus, she thought it best that Adam have the opportunity for some time away from her constant mothering. She was so glad to have him back that she was spoiling him. And both her mother and mother-in-law had warned her against doing that. He ain’t no baby, was Ramona’s retort when she’d spoken to her over the phone, her Bahamian accent thick. You’re not doing him any favors by coddlin’ him, child. Her mother was in agreement. Love him, she’d said, but don’t do everything for him. You never waited on him hand and foot before. I know you’re happy to have him back, and that’s why you’re doing it, but give it a rest!

  All Alia knew was that she hated leaving him every morning to go to work. She left early, and he was usually still asleep when she kissed him goodbye. He would awaken, smile at her and murmur, “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

  She’d hear his quiet breathing, proof that he’d already fallen back to sleep, only a few seconds afterward as she walked through the loft to the front door.

  When she returned home, he would always greet her at the door with a kiss, and she’d smell wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen.

  It was domestic bliss, actually. All except for sexual intimacy. They slept in each other’s arms, but she’d been reluctant to force the issue of sex with him. She wasn’t going to go there after he’d bolted for the bathroom that time in Arlington. She told herself he needed to be the one to initiate sex. She wished he would talk to her about it, though. They were in sexual limbo, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  She got home from work one evening in early December and found Adam putting up Christmas decorations. They’d talked about decorating the loft, but neither had suggested a time to do it. So she was happy that he’d taken the initiative and decided to just do it. A few feet from the front door, mistletoe with a red ribbon tied around it hung upside down. He was up on a ladder putting an angel atop an eight-foot-tall Christmas tree when she entered the loft.

  “Hey, babe,” he said cheerfully. Finished with his task, he climbed down and started walking toward her. She set her shoulder bag and briefcase on the foyer table and admired him, which was something she did all the time now. He was letting his hair grow back, and it was coming along nicely. Soon, she knew, he would begin twisting it to train it to grow in separate spirals in hopes of growing his dreadlocks out again. His beard was thick and beautifully shaped. He kept it oiled, and it was shiny and soft to the touch.

  Alia inhaled the sexy, male scent of him. She offered him her lips to kiss, which he did with gusto. Afterward, she smiled and said, “Hello, sweetie. The place looks festive. Does this mean you have the Christmas spirit?”

  He smiled as he cocked his head to the side, thinking. “To be honest, I’m hoping this will give me the Christmas spirit. You know I was always as wild as a child about Christmas, but I just don’t have that feeling right now.”

  “Well, you’ve been through a lot,” she sympathized. “I didn’t celebrate much while you were gone. It just didn’t feel right without you. But I’m looking forward to it this year. We’ve got something to celebrate.”

  They walked to the great room together and sat down on the couch in the leather seating group. She turned toward him. “Tell me about your day,” she said expectantly.

  “They want me to come back to work,” he said, not sounding enthusiastic about the prospect.

  “The others are ready to get back to work, too?” she asked.

  She hadn’t heard how Arjun and Calvin and Maritza were doing after getting back home, and she was curious.

  “They’re scientists,” Adam said dryly. “All they know is work.” He laughed shortly. “I do have good news about them, though. Turns out Arjun’s girlfriend really loved him and was hoping for his return, and they’re engaged. Calvin’s girlfriend wasn’t as faithful and got engaged while he was gone. He claims he didn’t take it hard, though. He’s giving his little black book a workout, and I fear he might turn into a player just to prove he’s attractive to the opposite sex. Best news of all, Maritza’s family is doing great. Raul turned into a good father after she left. He had to learn how to care for Mariana on his own and did a fine job. Maritza’s having fun getting to know her daughter, whom Raul didn’t let forget her.”

  Alia smiled with satisfaction. “I’m glad to hear that. Poor Calvin, though. I wish his girlfriend had waited for him.”

  She sat back on the couch. “So, are you thinking of going back to work?”

  He nodded. “I think it’s for the best. Maybe it’ll help me get rid of some quirks I need to get out of my system.”

  “Like?” she asked gently, hoping he was finally going to open up to her.

  He averted his gaze, a sure sign to Alia that she was going to hear something she wouldn’t like. But he surprised her by saying, “I know you’ve noticed the lack of sex in our relationship, Alia Joie.” He looked her straight in the eyes.

  She didn’t look away. “I figured you’d talk to me about it when you were ready to.”

  “I’ve never had a problem making love to you before,” he said. “I don’t know why this is happening to me, to us.”

  “Nothing about this is routine,” she said reasonably. “You were never kidnapped before, either. Maybe you should talk to a professional about i
t.”

  “You know how I feel about therapists,” he said, his tone bordering on belligerent. “I don’t want anyone messing with my head. I’ve already had my head messed with enough over the past two years!”

  Then she thought of something he’d mentioned when he’d first gotten home. “You said you read a study about returning servicemen and their relationships with their wives after being prisoners of war. Did any of them have problems with making love to their wives after their experience?”

  In his beautiful eyes, she could see the wheels turning in that analytical mind of his. He cleared his throat, then frowned. “Yes, I do recall reading that some of the men felt emasculated by being held against their will. As if their manhood, or power, had been taken away from them. And they felt weak and helpless.”

  “What did they do about it?” she asked softly.

  His expression didn’t look promising. “There were a lot of divorces. Some men turned violent out of frustration and beat their wives. The wives felt they had to leave them to survive. It was a depressing study. Now I wish I hadn’t read it.”

  Alia placed a reassuring hand on his leg. “That couldn’t be all the study talked about. Being starved also has an effect on the libido, you know. There had to be other reasons for the men’s lack of sexual drive.”

  He brightened. “You’re right. There were men who said their sexual urges returned after they got healthier.”

  “The key is not to panic,” Alia offered. “We’ll take this slowly. I won’t try to seduce you, so you can relax around me and not worry about my trying to force you to perform. If you want me to wear a granny nightgown to bed, I will.”

  Adam chuckled. “Oh, no, not the granny nightgown!” He continued more seriously, “No, babe. Come to bed just as you are, and I’ll concentrate on getting back to my former good health.” He regarded her with a look of admiration. “And I promise I’ll consider talking to a professional. I’m a scientist. I shouldn’t have antiquated notions about having my head shrunk.”

  “Deal,” she said.

  He got up then, reached for her hand and pulled her off the couch. “Come on, I made Ramona’s fried snapper and peas and rice.”

  “Mmm,” Alia said. “Did you make any johnnycake to go with it?”

  “You know I did,” he said happily. “Did you know that there’s a store just down the street that caters to Bahamians?”

  “Of course,” Alia said with a laugh. “I’ve been there lots of times.”

  In the kitchen, Adam took the fried fish, crispy and golden and lying on a platter, out of the oven, where Alia figured he’d put it to keep it warm. On the stove, the peas and rice were simmering in a Dutch oven. And the corn bread sat on the stove top.

  “I should wash up,” Alia said after seeing that dinner was ready. She turned to walk over to the sink to wash her hands, but Adam had other plans, and stopped her and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you properly for a long time,” he said. Then he bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers in a soft kiss. Taken by surprise, she was tense and stiff in his arms, but relaxed in an instant and sighed, her breath mingling with his.

  That exchange of breath warmed her up considerably and ignited a sweet feeling of desire that was waiting below the surface of her emotions. It had been so hard to turn off the passion she felt for him. Now she was free to express it, and she felt her body let go of the negative, petty demons that were always berating her, taunting her that maybe Adam wasn’t interested in making love to her anymore. Maybe she wasn’t attractive to him anymore. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She was sick of maybes.

  He moaned with pleasure, and she could tell that his body was responding to hers. His muscles were even closer to the skin than before, when he’d carried an extra forty pounds. She felt them as he held her close. His arm muscles were hard as rocks. His thigh muscles, pressed against hers, were corded.

  Her body was singing with joy. From her head—which was a little dizzy, if she was being totally honest—to her toes, she rightfully exulted in this moment. This was the kiss she’d been waiting for. It left her weak and breathless after they came up for air, and, boy, did it answer one question she’d been asking herself. Was her husband still attracted to her? Yes! Her husband still wanted her. He just had to find his way back to her.

  Throughout dinner, they gazed into each other’s eyes like lovesick idiots, smiling and feeding each other. It was nauseating behavior that she would have derided her friends for displaying. And they would have kidded her about it, too. She didn’t care.

  “I’m beginning to get into the Christmas spirit,” he told her with a sexy smile. “Want to go skating tomorrow night?”

  Tomorrow was Friday, and Alia usually left the office early on Fridays unless something pressing came up. She nodded, feeling shy suddenly, like they were going on their first date.

  “Good,” Adam said. “I’ll meet you at 30 Rock. Around five? We’ll go to dinner afterward.”

  “It’s a date!” she said.

  She climbed into bed that night and went into Adam’s arms, confident that they were making progress now. He kissed her gently on the mouth and murmured, “I love you.”

  “I love you,” she returned. “Sweet dreams.”

  He gave her a quizzical look but didn’t say anything else. He just reached over and switched off the lamp on his nightstand. She’d already turned hers off. She settled with a sigh in his arms. This not talking about things was getting to her. He was withholding information, and now, because she didn’t want to upset him, she was forced to keep quiet about subjects she would much rather have out in the open.

  The fact was that he’d been having violent nightmares since he’d returned. He talked in his sleep. No, he shouted in his sleep, as though he were being pursued by demons. After the first time it had happened, she’d done some research online and found out that some people in REM sleep can kick, grab the people sleeping with them and jump out of bed, all while in rapid eye movement sleep. But so far all he’d done was yell in his sleep and toss and turn.

  She was tired. It had been a strenuous day at work, and this constant worrying about Adam’s state of mind was exhausting. She closed her eyes and soon was sleeping soundly.

  The next thing she knew, she felt a sharp pain on her right shoulder. She awoke in the dark and felt Adam turning from side to side next to her as if he was fending off an attack. Not bothering to turn on a light, she clambered off the bed on her side and stood at the foot of the bed, watching his hulking figure moving about. He was shouting, “No, no, no!” over and over again.

  She rubbed her shoulder. Should she wake him? She wasn’t sure what to do. She’d heard that you shouldn’t awaken people when they were in the throes of a nightmare. Before she could make up her mind, he quit fighting whomever he was tussling with in his dream, and all was quiet. Within seconds, he was sleeping peacefully.

  She got back into bed. It was a while before she could fall back to sleep, but when she did there were no more disturbances.

  * * *

  Adam felt momentarily overwhelmed when confronted with the statue of Prometheus and the towering Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, to say nothing of the sixty-six-story Rockefeller Plaza that towered above the famous skating rink. He’d been on the lookout for Alia Joie the past twenty minutes. He was finally rewarded when he saw her hurrying toward him. She wore a tan overcoat with a sweater peeking out at the collar, casual slacks and boots, and was carrying a tote with her skates undoubtedly inside. He held a bag with his skates, as well.

  His heartbeat sped up at the sight of her. His desire for her felt like a painful ache that he knew wouldn’t go away until he could fully claim her. It felt as though he had to woo his wife all over again. As if something within him was dictating his actions, tormenting him, so that when he finally overcame this obstacle that stood between him and Alia Joie
, he would appreciate her more. He would know how lucky he was to have her in his life again.

  They kissed briefly. She was smiling, her eyes alight with happiness. He wanted so much to be the person who put that light in her eyes.

  They paid the fee, and soon they were skating while holding hands. Neither of them had forgotten their routines. They were perfect partners, both athletic and graceful in their movements. She was his equal when it came to athleticism. She’d started ballet at six and had studied it into her teens. To him, she was beautiful to watch while in motion.

  After a good workout on the ice, they went for coffee while they decided where to go for dinner. Sitting across from each other in the coffee shop, he thought he saw a bruise on Alia Joie when her sweater’s shoulder lowered a bit as she took off her coat. He frowned as he regarded her with concern. “Babe, what’s that dark mark on your shoulder?”

  Alia Joie smiled. “It’s nothing.”

  “It looks like a bruise,” he insisted. “Did you run into a door? Did someone grab you?”

  He was becoming agitated. He couldn’t stand it if someone had put his hands on her. He knew he was making her uncomfortable because she refused to meet his gaze. “Alia Joie, tell me how you got that bruise on your shoulder,” he demanded.

  She huffed in frustration. He knew that sound all too well. She didn’t want to tell him what he was trying to pull out of her.

  He gave her a determined look. “Talk to me.”

  Looking him in the eyes, she said, “All right. The fact is, you’ve been having nightmares. You thrash about in your sleep. You’re a big man, and sometimes it can be dangerous to sleep next to you. Last night, you hit me in the spot where I have a bruise. You were dreaming. You weren’t in control. I debated whether or not to mention it.”

  He couldn’t have been more shocked. Yes, he knew about the nightmares, but he had no idea he was moving around in bed while he was having them. He felt like a heel. He felt like a wife beater, even though he knew he’d acted against his will and would never in his waking moments hurt her.