A Novel Christmas

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  ‘Fine. Good.’ I pulled my collar away from my neck with one finger. Suddenly it was restricting my airway and I was having a hard time breathing because all the blood was rushing to my cock. ‘Remind me of the gist again.’

  She smiled knowingly. ‘He’s an artist who’s had a troubled past.’

  ‘Haven’t we all.’

  ‘Take it seriously,’ she replied scowling weakly before breaking into a smile. ‘Where did you get to?’

  ‘The scene in the art room. I think a table was involved?’ It very definitely was.

  ‘Ah. That’s a good one,’ Cal replied wrinkling her nose like she remembered when a past lover did the same thing to her. Hear that shatter? My heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

  ‘You’re really good at using words to help the reader picture the scene clearly. Very clearly. Really quite clear.’

  ‘You liked my sex scene?’ she asked, her sing-song voice making me laugh out loud. Nerves. It must have been nerves.

  ‘It was described so vividly I could almost hear the music playing in the background.’ I heard her gasp a little, her mouth parted, her hand gripped the step ladder. ‘I was rooting for them because I could feel their connection, their passion. When you described him painting her body, the water spilling onto her shoulders, paintbrushes tumbling to the floor, it was—’ arousing, pleasure inducing, stimulating, exciting, it gave me chills and there was no other option but to stroke myself until I came all over the hand that was still gripping my cock, ‘—sexy.’

  She looked at me for a second, weighing up the moment, probably running through what I’d said to her about friendship and being unable to give her more.

  ‘Did it turn you on?’ she asked, her voice breathless.

  Seize the moment or bring us back to friendship? Rein it in and continue the charade of wanting nothing more or go ahead and embrace the sexual tension?

  ‘Yes.’ Tension embraced.

  ‘What turned you on the most? Imagining what they were doing or knowing it was me who’d written it?’

  You, you, you, you, you.

  ‘I’m not sure I should answer that,’ I replied.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’ve spent the last few days telling you I can only give you friendship and if I answer your question, it will change that. Change everything.’

  She smiled. Her lips twitching, her breath catching. ‘How many times do you replay the night you watched me touch myself?’ she said on a quick gasp. The noise encouraged my bravery.

  ‘Every day, more than once. Sometimes a lot more.’

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. I was about to burst. The room was spinning with colours and swirls of light, but Cal was in the middle of it all and she was clear as glass. Perfect clarity amongst the chaos playing around her. I could smell her. Apple fresh. Her hair still falling out of the bun and around her shoulders. She was smiling and her mouth. Fuck. Her mouth and the way it parted and the words it let out, her words, those wonderful words. She was so open, so willing to expose herself. Vulnerability didn’t exist in her world because she revealed herself every single day through her writing.

  I’d watched her fingers, long and elegant, piecing the tree together with precision. Delicately holding the ornaments, the sparkly trinkets, studying the glass baubles in her hands and fuck me if I didn’t imagine my balls there. Christ, I was sick. What was I doing comparing my balls to Christmas decorations? She brought out this deviance in me. I kept her books by my bed, marked pages with post-it notes, opened them and imagined her voice reading the dirty words as I slid my hand down my cock. I thought it would be enough. That I could stop the urge to kiss her neck and bring her to her knees if I brought myself off. But those shorts and her legs and the little curve of arse cheek poking out underneath the hem every time she reached up…the sliver of skin inviting me to get closer. I did it. I moved in, licking my lips, letting the voices telling me this could only lead to heartbreak fall away into a black hole until they were echoes and finally with a faint splash…they were gone.

  And then I kissed the perfect skin of the inside of her thigh.

  ‘Fuck,’ she gasped.

  ‘Tell me to stop,’ I said as put my hands on her waist pulling at the ribbon on her shorts. Untying her. Freeing her to me.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Cal. Tell me to stop,’ I pleaded as my hands traced the smooth globes of her ass. The first touch. The one I’d thought about, fantasised about. Nothing could come close to the first touch. It was intense and passionate, repressed feelings rolling around with abandon. I wanted her and she wanted me and that’s all I wanted to deal with—all I could deal with. If I thought of anything else, I knew I’d be lost and hesitation would creep back in.

  ‘I won’t tell you to stop,’ she replied as I kissed her stomach. squeezed her arse, ran my hands up her legs, parted them with my bare hands. ‘I don’t want you to. I want you to let go. Free yourself with me. You can’t hang on to bad memories. Together we can obliterate them.’

  ‘Stop me now because this will change everything,’ I said trailing my finger from her ankle bone, dipping into the sensitive curve at the back of her leg and finally stopping where her pussy met her arse, the fleshy mound pressed against my fingers.

  ‘I want it to change.’ She was breathless. Waiting. But hearing those words repeated by her was like hearing the sound of a warning bell, a high-pitched alarm, a forewarning.

  Don’t listen.

  ‘You’re leaving, Cal.’ Just tonight. Don’t think about anything else. Just now. ‘This can’t work between us.’

  And then she said something that finally set off the flares into the sky. Bright pink smoke trails over the sea. A change in thought process going with it, setting it free and celebrating the moment things really did change.

  ‘Don’t deprive yourself. I’m giving myself to you. Today…indulge in me.’

  She moaned out in pleasure as my hands dug into her hips, my full hand pressed against her stomach, squeezing the traces of her rib cage as she sucked in a breath and let me take her, possess her, claim her body with my fingers. Pinching the flesh, testing she was real, that this moment was finally going to happen, that I was ignoring doubt and anxiety without another thought to pull me back.

  ‘You intoxicate me, your laugh and that piece of hair that falls out every time you throw your head back. And your words, Cal. Your fucking words. I hear them in my head. Taunting me. Telling me to touch you, screaming at me to open up to you. I can’t fucking help myself.’

  She wrapped her arms around my head, looking down at me. ‘Take me. I’m yours.’

  ‘You’re not mine,’ I whispered, clutching her hands that were around my neck. ‘You’re going to leave me broken.’

  ‘Never,’ she whispered, arching her neck as my hands mapped out the contours of her body, dragging my fingers along the curve of her hips, pushing away the softness of her sweater, discovering her breasts, kneading them, feeling them in my hands.

  ‘I need you,’ I said, breathlessly.

  ‘I want you,’ she moaned.

  ‘I want you more.’

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Those three loud knocks ruined the plans I had for Cal’s breasts, still cupped in my hands. We both stayed still like we’d been frozen in time. Panting and gasping and recovering from the intensity of it all. If I were a better man, I would have moved my hands, but bloody hell they felt so good against her skin.

  A screech of the letterbox made us turn our heads towards the cottage door.

  ‘Excuse me? Sorry, I’m looking for Mr Carolla,’ a voice through the letterbox said.

  ‘What’s the time?’ I whispered to Cal.

  ‘I have no concept of time because your hands are on my boobs,’ she replied, still lost for breath as I barked out a laugh.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Blake. Is that you?’ I shouted, making absolutely no attempt to move my hands.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

&
nbsp; ‘Not great timing, Blake,’ I replied as Cal started to giggle.

  ‘Sorry, sir, but you’ll miss your schedule if we don’t go now. I’ve got the car waiting. Is Miss Dixon with you?’

  ‘Shit,’ I said under my breath as Cal pulled her sweater over my head. She felt warm and inviting, her skin soft, desperate to be touched. I wanted to stay there so badly. ‘Are you sure you haven’t got the time wrong?’ Please have the time wrong.

  ‘Sorry, sir I can’t quite hear you. You sound a bit…muffled.’

  Cal giggled. I felt her stomach contract against my face and I kissed her there, half wondering if I should tell Blake to piss off or if the cosmos was looking out for me, stopping us before we start. Keeping my body and soul intact. Perhaps not my heart. I was already trying to Google telephone numbers of the best heart surgeons in Cornwall and she hadn’t even left yet.

  ‘What have you got planned?’ she said, pulling her sweater back and revealing me, still kneeling before her like the queen that she was.

  ‘Sir, you’re due to fly in thirty minutes,’ Blake shouted, getting agitated but not as agitated as me.

  ‘Are you taking me flying?’ Cal asked, her beautiful face shocked and astounded. Astounded at me. The man who didn’t do relationships, or love. The man who declared that he didn’t believe in romance but was feeling pretty fucking tender-hearted right now.

  ‘I want to take you somewhere,’ I said, feeling high before I’d even started the engine.

  ‘In your plane?’ she asked, her face slightly panicked.

  ‘Yes. Is that OK?’

  ‘How big is it?’ she asked.

  I couldn’t resist. ‘Bigger than most.’ She giggled and it was adorable.

  Could I really fall for this woman? Open my heart freely again?

  ‘I was excited until I remembered the journey over here.’

  ‘Believe it or not, I have flown before,’ I chuckled. ‘I’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Promising to keep me safe is the only reason I will allow you to remove both of your hands from my boobs right now.’

  Chapter 19

  Cal

  ‘Oh, God. Oh, Crap. Oh, my life. Lordy, lordy,’ I said into the mirror. My reflection looked thoroughly confused. ‘I know. What the hell was that? He kissed my thigh.’ Now my reflection was a deep shade of red. I blew my hair out of my face and leant over the sink. Bracing myself. I thought back to that moment. His lips on my bare skin. So intimate. So sensitive. So brave. He kissed a part of my body that didn’t usually get much attention, and when he did, it made every nerve ending stand at attention. I was pretty sure I orgasmed when I felt his lips there. Sometimes that didn’t even happen when a penis nestled in. ‘And he wants to be just friends?’ I frowned to myself. ‘I know!’ I wasn’t down for that. Nope. Not anymore. I was going to hound him until he had no option but to do it again, preferably when we were both naked.

  ‘You ready, Cal?’ Drew shouted up the stairs. ‘Blake’s getting edgy. We’ll miss our flight time.’ I didn’t know who the hell Blake was, but I knew I didn’t like him. Total cockblocker and bossy.

  ‘Erm…yep.’ A slick of lipstick and a quick comb through my hair would have to do. He still wasn’t telling me where we were going, only giving a very vague instruction of, You must wrap up warm, plenty of layers, which is what I’d planned to do anyway because my wardrobe at the island only catered for staying warm.

  I heard the car horn beep three times. Cockblocker Blake again. I quickly slipped out of my shorts and put on some jeans. The sweater he seemed to appreciate when he bunched it up in his fists to kiss my stomach would have to do.

  ‘Cal.’

  ‘I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m here,’ I said as I ran down the stairs to find Drew closing the curtains.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so. How long has it been exactly? Since you’ve flown. Are you rusty?’

  ‘I think it’s been about three weeks. Will that do?’ He smiled, handing me my coat as I followed him out. ‘Blake, impeccable timing. Remind me to thank you later.’

  ‘What did I do?’ Blake asked as he got back in the car. Drew shook his head as he caught me giggling.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘It’s a surprise,’ he replied, shutting my door. I watched as he got in the front passenger side, his head resting back. ‘How is she, Blake?’

  ‘Running fine, sir. She’s all ready for you.’

  ‘We’d better go then. Wind speed?’

  ‘Perfect for this time of year. Might be a little bumpy on descent though.’

  I groaned and Drew glanced at me behind him. ‘What’s wrong?’

  My stomach flipped and I wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of impending death or because not so long ago Drew was kissing my thigh. ‘I’m a little…nervous.’

  ‘You’re a nervous flyer?’ he asked.

  ‘I am when the plane resembles a tin can.’

  ‘The best tin. Durable. Small but robust.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ I asked, taking a sharp breath. ‘Have you tested the theory with an emergency landing?’

  ‘Hey. Listen. I’m not going to let anything bad happen,’ he said, reaching for my hand. ‘Because if the plane goes down, we both die.’

  ‘Not helping.’ I grimaced as he laughed.

  ‘Take a deep breath.’ I leant forward, took in a breath and blew it out directly in his face. ‘Awesome,’ he replied as he scrunched his eyes briefly.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Seriously, Cal. I won’t let anything happen to you. Keep taking deep, steady breaths. Trust me.’ I nodded, believing him completely. He kissed my head and placed his thumb at the corner of my mouth, dragging my lip with it, sighing and turning around before switching on pilot mode. ‘Blake, I’ll do my own safety checks just to reassure Cal.’ Swoon.

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  I watched out of the window, remembering the short journey from the airport when I arrived, smiling at how much had changed in a couple of weeks, how at odds I was feeling, wondering if the ideas would return or the words would begin to form sentences again.

  ‘Here we are, sir,’ Blake said as we rolled onto the bumpy track that constituted the airport car park. It all felt oddly familiar, the chauffeur-driven car, the dark-haired brooding male, the name check of sir. And as the aeroplane came into view, I suddenly understood why it all felt so familiar.

  Oh, fuck.

  Drew was Christian Grey…but far less controlling.

  This felt surreal. I was expecting to hear the first bars of ‘Love Me Like You Do’ blaring out at any second.

  ‘Trust me?’ Drew asked as he opened my door.

  ‘Are you taking me to your playroom?’ I asked biting my lip for good measure. He raised his eyebrow in question. ‘Drew, you couldn’t be more Christian Grey!’

  ‘I’m pretty sure he had a helicopter,’ he replied smiling.

  ‘He does, but we’ll let that slip.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ he replied. ‘Real romance heroes fly fucking planes.’

  Fifteen minutes was all it took.

  Fifteen minutes for me to confirm that I was head-over-heels smitten for my reclusive, woodcutting pilot. The man who reassured me throughout the flight, cared for me, encouraged me to breathe.

  He transformed when he was sitting in the cockpit. He turned into someone who was commanding and powerful. Who knew what he wanted and was going to get it with a steady composure. He always had a presence, but this was something more—a higher level, a metamorphosis into greatness—and my thighs were still bloody quivering from the experience.

  ‘Short flight. Was that a good or bad thing?’ he asked shortly after he landed the plane like the majestic specimen of greatness he was.

  I thought about how to answer.

  I could have watched you forever. Fly me to Australia. It can’t be that far. I watched your hands grip the flight yoke and imagined them on my t
highs. Are you sure you just want to be friends? That kiss to my bare thigh told me otherwise.

  Instead, I went with, ‘Well, I’m not dead so…well done!’

  ‘You’re in capable hands,’ he replied.

  I know, I felt them on my bum cheeks earlier.

  ‘Now are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?’

  He took a picnic basket and a blanket off one of the seats and helped me down the steps.

  ‘You don’t have long to wait.’

  I looked back at the plane and saw a small golden Karensa logo across the side. ‘Do you fly people to the island? Is that all part of the luxury service?’

  ‘I have. It’s good to advertise that it’s available, should guests need it. Private flights around Cornwall is something I’ve offered to guests staying in the cottages over summer.’

  ‘Nifty.’ I pointed to the golden logo. ‘What does Karensa mean?’ I asked, wondering why I’d never asked him before. It was a beautiful name. There must be some meaning behind it. He didn’t reply, just directed me to another waiting car. I listened to him make small talk with the driver, I heard him say the car journey would only take ten minutes, we would need blankets and torches, but he still didn’t answer my question. We travelled in silence, Drew sitting next to me in the back of the car. I felt his glances, I saw his lips part like he was going to say something, finally answer my question, but just as quickly, they would close again and he would return to gazing out of the window.

  Hiding. Protecting.

  ‘What is this place?’ I asked, pressing my hand to the window as we arrived at our destination. ‘The Minack Theatre,’ I said, reading the signs and staring in wonderment as I looked out of the window and saw what looked like…No. It couldn’t be.

  Was that snow?

  ‘You wanted Christmas. You wanted brass bands, carols, mulled wine—’ He got out and opened my door, holding out his hand, helping me to stand because I was far too busy watching the flurries of snow being launched into the air by a snow machine outside the entrance, ‘—and snow.’