A Very Merry Christmas: WITH "Do You Hear What I Hear" AND "Bah Humbug, Ba (12 page)

She squeezed her thighs together and tried to think about something else. She had to stop him before they both did something they’d regret soon enough. But traitor that it was, her hand broke rank and slipped over his foot, her palm settling there. And the heat shot right up her arm and didn’t stop until it hit ground zero. Her hand slid to his ankle, up the wiry leg hair until it was stopped by the elastic of his sweatpants.

She tried to pull it away before he got the wrong idea, which would be the right idea, but he didn’t need to know that. She really tried to reclaim her hand. Her hand was having none of it. Her index finger eased itself under the elastic; she felt Lee’s calf muscle ripple beneath it. She came to her senses and tried to pull it back. Lee covered her hand with his.

Caught by surprise, she looked at him. He looked back. Heat, desire and a sense of inevitability pulsed between them.

He pressed her palm to his calf and held it there. She opened her mouth to protest. Nothing came out, not even her breath. His mouth was clamped shut. It didn’t matter. They didn’t need to talk. The front of Lee’s sweatpants were talking loud enough for both of them.

He pulled her toward him.

She rose to her knees. “This is probably a stupid thing to do,” she said.

“It doesn’t feel stupid. We’re here.”

And they weren’t going anywhere tonight. Why not have a final fling. Leave this time without the anger and hurt. Something broke inside her and she thought,
Well, why the hell not.
They
were
here. Couldn’t get away. It was useless to try to pretend they didn’t want each other. They were consenting adults. They could walk away from this none the worse for wear.

Who was she kidding.

“Ally,” he said. A low whisper.

“Yes.” She pulled her hand from his sweats and glided her palm up his calf.

Lee’s head fell back and his eyes closed.

“Are you going to pass out?”

“Maybe. Just keep going.”

She did. Both hands skimming over his thighs, feeling his reaction to her touch. She slowed down as her hands pressed higher. So slow that he grabbed her hands and led them to where they both wanted them to be.

He sighed.

She sighed and let her fingers curl around him. He pushed against them. She climbed onto the couch and straddled him. Peered down at him through a curtain of hair. Her robe gaped open above and below the tie at her waist. There was nothing but her underneath.

Lee grunted in response and he rocked beneath her. Then he reached inside the robe and cupped both her breasts in his hands.

They both groaned and Lee arched against her. She pressed him back down and sat astride him, circled her hips against him, shuddered every time the ridge of his erection hit the place that sent electricity through her.

He rubbed his palms against her breasts. Squeezed her nipples, then ran a finger across the tight tips. She rocked up and down the length of his erection, the fabric of his sweatpants setting off wave after wave of pleasure.

His fingers fumbled at the sash of her robe. It was loosely tied. He should be able to open it without the aid of the carving knife. The thought gave her such an unexpected rush that she almost laughed. He finally got it untied and slid it off her shoulders. She rose to her knees and he pulled it away and tossed it to the floor. She towered over him, spread-eagled and ready.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered and cupped her between her legs. He slid one finger deep inside her. Her muscles clenched around it. He pulled it out and pushed it in again, while the heel of his hand pressed against the sensitive skin at her crotch.

“You’ve missed me, too,” he breathed, as his finger picked up a rhythm that threatened to send her spiraling out of control.

Not that much.
That’s what she meant to say. But somehow, by the time it reached her mouth, it had morphed into a breathy “yes.”

A second finger joined the first.

She slipped her hands past his arm and took hold of his sweatpants. He lifted his butt so she could pull them off. She pulled them down his thighs. He kicked them off. And they joined her robe on the floor.

She eased away from his fingers so she could enjoy the view.

Oh, yeah
. Just as thrilling as the first time she saw it. She’d been so flashed at first sight, she’d sent up a prayer to the sex pixies for sending her such a package. She was thanking them again. A girl couldn’t ask for a better Christmas present. Sure beat those handmade acrylic mittens.

He curled up and nipped her hip bone. “Don’t look, if you’re not going to buy.”

“Hmmm,” she said, though she had already made her decision several finger passes ago. She pushed him back down, scooped up his cock and shuddered as the sleek, hot skin came even more alive at her touch. She lifted it up, squeezed and pulled up the length of him. Cupped the head of his penis with her palm.

He dragged three fingers between her legs, then pushed her hand away and rubbed the tip of his penis with her juices.

“What’s the cost?” she asked.

His eyes flicked. The fire reflected in them and for a heart-stopping moment Allison was afraid she’d gone too far.

“Whatever you want to pay. Or—nothing at all.”

She smiled. “The price is right.”

“Suck me.”

Oh, yeah. She’d suck him until he begged for mercy. “Ask nicely.”
And do it quickly before I lose my mind.

“Suck me now.”

“You are such a gentleman.” She leaned over until her lips touched the tip of his cock. She flicked her tongue across the cleft of it, tasting herself as well as him. Lee grabbed her shoulders. His fingers dug into her flesh.

She sucked saliva into her mouth, then spread it over the head of his cock, following it with her tongue. Lee groaned and eased his grip on her shoulders.

She circled him with her tongue, then sucked him deep into her mouth. It occurred to her that if she had been the vindictive type, Lee would be in big trouble now. But she wasn’t. And she would never hurt him, though she was inspired to suck a little harder and gently rake her teeth up the sensitive skin.

Lee groaned. Reached under her armpits and drew her up his body. He clamped an arm around her waist and rolled them onto the floor, she on her back and Lee braced on his hands and knees above her. He reached back onto the couch and pulled down a large throw pillow, which he pushed beneath her butt.

He spread her knees and fitted himself between them. Lifted her leg and draped it around his waist. The fire in his eyes bored into hers. He kissed her, driving his tongue past her teeth and claiming her mouth with insistent thrusts. Then, shifting his weight to one hand, he used the other to place his cock between her thighs. He didn’t enter her, just teased her, manipulating himself through her folds, then sliding back to press against her opening. Promising more but withholding it, until she was tempted to shove it in herself.

Before she could move, he pushed into her, a mere inch. She captured the head of his penis with tight muscles. She pulsed around him, trying to draw him farther in. He was smiling diabolically and she could feel him start to withdraw. Quickly she reached up and tweaked his nipples. He made a guttural sound and drove hard into her.

She smiled even as the heat built unbearably inside her. He had such sensitive nipples, not a trait a girl found every day. She had him where she wanted him. And she wanted him. God help her, she wanted him.

“Not fair,” he gasped and pulled out far enough to drive inside her again.

Allison didn’t answer. The game was suddenly out of her control. And she bet out of his, too. It had always been that way. They hungered for each other. Always. Threatened to burn up when they came together. Swept into a vortex of passion that would eventually drown them. But she didn’t care. Not now.

She met him thrust for thrust, twined her fingers in his hair. Wrapped her legs around his waist. He drove and drove, pushing her up the carpet until her head bumped the leg of the club chair. He lifted her and shifted them to the side. Rolled them back down the carpet until they were once more in front of the fire. And he kept driving into her until without warning she imploded then burst outward in a explosion of fireworks.

Lee gave three last disjointed thrusts, each punctuated by a cry wrenched from the very depths of him. Then he shuddered and collapsed on top of her. Rolled onto his back, taking her with him until she lay across him, heavy and fulfilled. And they floated, maybe slept, until Lee said lazily, “The fire is going out,” and dumped her unceremoniously onto the carpet.

He stood up and put more wood on the fire. Stirred it with the poker until it was ablaze again, then turned and looked down at her.

“You have a great butt,” she said.

Lee stretched, his eyes heavy-lidded, his mouth curving into a satisfied smile. “It’s all—” He bit back the rest of the sentence.

And Allison wondered if he’d been about to say, “It’s all yours.” He’d said it enough in the past. But he hadn’t really meant it. And she’d just fallen for it again.

A persistent pounding yanked Lee from a deep sleep. He rolled off the bed and crouched on the floor; he blinked. A bed. A floor. He was in a cabin with Allison, in Colorado, not in a tent in the jungle in Columbia.

He stood up and looked across the crumpled comforter to where Ally’s dark curls spilled across her face. She stirred and his dick responded. The pounding began again.

The door. Someone was knocking on the door. He looked around for his clothes. Remembered they were downstairs. So was his duffel.

Maybe whoever it was would go away. He waited. The knocking continued. Lee sighed and jogged down the stairs to grab his sweatpants and shirt off the floor.

“Coming,” he called and hurried across the frigid tiles to the front door, hopping into his sweatpants as he went. He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and opened the front door.

He had to squint against the brightness. Snow was piled everywhere and sunlight sparkled off every surface. It turned the figure in front of him to a silhouette. Short and round and Lee thought “a bowl full of jelly,” before pulling himself together and saying, “Yes?”

“Saw your car smashed into the tree out by the crossroads. Just wanted to make sure everyone was all right.” He shifted onto one fat leg, which put him in the shadow of the eave. He suddenly came into focus. A round, fat man in a red parka and Himalayan knit cap. A white beard spilled across the front of his parka and he stuck out a plump hand encased in ski gloves.

“Chris Olsen,” he said as Lee automatically stuck out his hand to be shaken. “Mayor of Good Cheer for twenty-five years and owner of the Watering Hole for longer.”

“Lee Simonson,” said Lee, hoping he wouldn’t have to invite him in.

“Well, as long as you folks are okay, I’ll just leave you be. But stop by the Hole sometime and I’ll buy you a round.” He nodded his head once, as if it were all settled, and turned to leave.

“Is there a garage in town? Or a car rental? I need to catch a flight out of Denver this afternoon.”

“There’s a garage. Don’t have a car rental. But it don’t matter. You won’t be catching any flight today or any other day this week, most likely. We got a snowplow. Cleans up the town streets good enough, but the highway’s plumb covered over. Can’t do a thing about it. We’re not a high priority with the state highway department.”

Lee looked over the mayor’s shoulder to the street. A one-lane path had been carved out along the center but the plow had deposited mountains of snow to either side. Allison’s car was completely buried. It would take them all day to dig out. He gritted his teeth. “What about the ski resort? They must have a snowplow.”

The mayor’s bushy eyebrows knit together. He shook his head and chuckled. His parka vibrated. “Ski resort. That’s a good one. Besides, that SUV of yours isn’t going anywhere. Might as well enjoy yourselves while you’re here. “Tis the season after all.” Then, continuing to shake his head, he turned and waded through the snow back to the street, where he waved a chubby hand over his head and walked away, still chuckling and shaking his head.

Lee stared after him, the cold seeping from the tiles into the soles of his feet, while his mind heated with indignation and exasperation. If he could get his hands on Greg right now, he’d beat the living crap out of him for taking part in this travesty. His teeth began to chatter and he slammed the door against the cold.

He just stood in the foyer, taking in his camera equipment and duffel lying where he’d dropped them the night before, the clothes draped over the furniture and piled on the carpet in front of the cold grate.

He and Ally had gone at it until they were both wrung out; then they’d stumbled upstairs for rounds two and three. And, to his dismay, he wanted more. And he knew it would be a disaster.

Ally was like a drug. A total out-of-body high. An experience like none other he’d ever had. Until you started coming down. Then the results were ravaging. The fights would start, the accusations, the silences. And before he knew what was happening, she’d be walking out the door, or standing him up, or not answering her phone.

They were doomed. He’d sworn after last Christmas that he would never be caught like this again and here he was, thanks to their two meddling siblings. How had he been so gullible? How had Allison? A niggling suspicion was trying to get his attention. Probably trying to tell him that it was fate. That they were made for each other. That they were meant to be together. And maybe that was true, but they just couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

They never would. Ally would never compromise, neither would he. Their work was more important than their relationship, and neither of them would ever settle for being second best.

“Who was that?” Ally stood at the top of the stairs, the comforter wrapped around her and trailing out behind her like a train.

Lee smiled in spite of himself. “The mayor of Good Cheer.”

“Huh?” she asked on a yawn.

“He found my car. Wanted to make sure no one was hurt.” He was moving toward the stairs. Drawn toward her. Needing to touch her. He couldn’t stop himself.

Ally just pushed her hair out of her face and yawned again. Oblivious. Then she looked down at him and smiled.

Lee’s desire ignited. He took the last few steps in a single bound and pulled her close, comforter and all. She cuddled into him, making purring sounds.

This was how it should be. Waking to love in the morning. No rush. No competition. Just the two of them. He held her closer. He knew it wouldn’t last. He should probably be looking for a way down the mountain. He had only the mayor’s word that they were snowed in. He might still be able to make the flight. But he didn’t move. Just gave in to the feel of Ally warm against him.

“This is a disaster,” she said.

The cold in Lee’s feet shot right to his chest. “Probably,” he said after swallowing the tightness in his throat. “But it seems we’re stuck here. The roads are closed. Might as well make the best of it.”

“Hmmm,” she said and snuggled closer.

Lee started to relax.

Then Allison pulled away and screeched, “What?”

Lee reared back, the word clanging in his ear. “Jesus, you don’t have to deafen me. The mayor said the roads are closed and we won’t be able to leave for several days, maybe a week.”

Allison pushed him away. “I can’t stay here a week. There’s no Internet service. You have a plane to catch. There has to be a way out.”

Lee shook his head.

“The ski resort. They must have a way down. We could ski down, if we have to.”

“You’ve never skied in your life and, besides, there is no ski resort.”

Allison’s eyes widened. “You mean…”

“We’re stranded.”

“Grrr.”

And strangely enough, Lee began to feel better rather than worse. It was probably Allison’s look of desperation that did it. Not the hard executive face she showed to the world. But the girl Lee had fallen for seven years before. And he felt a glimmer of hope. Even after all the breakups, all the reconciliations, the promise never to fall for it again, Lee fell. He scooped Allison up and pulled her against his chest.

At first she was unwieldy, all floundering arms and legs. But then she softened and sighed and fit into him like she belonged there. “Stuck in Good Cheer for Christmas. It’s so…embarrassing.”

Allison sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of coffee and watching the windows fog up with steam. Lee was puttering at the stove, flipping pancakes on the griddle and lifting strips of bacon out of the cast-iron frying pan with a long two-pronged fork.

It was hard not to settle into this homey scene, even though she knew it wasn’t real and would shatter soon enough. Still, she felt toasty and loved and the coffee was just like she liked it: strong and black.

Lee put a platter of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she smiled up at him, though she’d warned herself not to. He smiled back and the air vibrated with contentment.

Which was also an illusion, she knew. But the pancakes were fluffy and the syrup real, and though she didn’t make a habit of eating breakfast, she settled down to this one like a starving woman. She concentrated on eating, not daring to look up and take the chance of catching him looking back at her.

Illusion
, she cautioned herself. Illusion. Illusion.

“Want to take a walk and check out the town?”

He’d caught her off guard and she looked at him before she could stop herself. His face was open. Anticipation danced in his eyes. He could always make the most insignificant, stupid things fun and exciting. Yeah, and he could also turn it right back on you and make you miserable, she reminded herself.

“Sure.”

They pulled on coats and gloves and hats. Lee made catty remarks about her rhinestone “ski” boots but took two close-ups of them, before settling his cameras around his neck. Then he brushed the steps free of snow with the side of his boot and held her elbow as they slid their way down the crust of ice. Helped her climb over the four feet of snow piled up at the edge of the street, then lifted her down to the plowed section.

Along the other side of the street behind an identical mound of snow, Allison could see brightly colored hats and bare heads bobbing along. Occasionally, one would disappear from view, only to reappear a few seconds later. A green umbrella passed. A black-and-white spaniel clambered up the other side and slid toward the street. There was a bright red bow around his neck and a jingling brass bell. Two little heads appeared over the mound. Then two children, dressed in bright red snowsuits, scrambled over the top and chased the dog down the street.

“That doesn’t look safe,” said Allison. “A car would slide right into them in this ice.”

Lee put his arm around her waist and pulled her into him. “There don’t seem to be any cars anywhere.”

Allison looked down the street. It was deserted except for pedestrians. A snowball fight was in progress half a block away, the participants sheltered behind forts carved out in the piled-up snow. Everywhere children screeched and squealed. Ahead of them, adults, bundled against the weather, passed through tracks tunneled out from the sidewalk to the street.

Lee and Allison waited for a group to pass and then walked single file to the sidewalk. Only it wasn’t a sidewalk, Allison discovered, when she reached the end of the tunnel and stepped onto a wooden deck. It was more like a boardwalk, like one of those towns from the Old West.

“I hope this isn’t going to be one of those places where everything is theme related,” said Lee.

“You mean like the Buffalo Burger?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Prospector’s Pastrami on Rye.’ Look up there.” He pointed to the mountains that rose straight up from behind the wooden buildings.

“What?”

“See those black squares? They’re mines.”

“Gold?”

Lee laughed. “Got your interest, huh?”

She gave him a shove. “I just didn’t know that miners still had to crawl down in those gas-riddled shafts.”

“They’re probably closed up. Left over from another era.” Lee took off the lens cap of his camera and as he shot, a rapid whirr filled the air. Then he turned the camera on Allison. “Smile.”

Before she could protest, he clicked the picture and turned to capture two men maneuvering a trolley loaded with kegs through a narrow doorway. And then an old man walking toward them, with a snow shovel balanced on his shoulder.

Lee was certainly a cheap date, thought Allison. Everything and anything interested him. And most of what interested him was captured on film. There were quite a few shots of her somewhere in the boxes of prints on file in his Los Angeles apartment.

Unless he’d tossed them, burned them or shredded them into little pieces after the last breakup.

She stopped in front of a plate glass window. It seemed to be an old-fashioned toy-and-candy store. Licorice sticks, jaw breakers and a variety of other rot-your-teeth delights were contained in glass jars lined up on shelves along the far wall. In the window, stuffed animals and dolls vied for space with Lincoln Logs and fire engines. An electric train ran on an oval track around them. Little houses with picket fences and fake trees and stores were lined up along the rails, and everything was covered with flakes of sparkling plastic snow.

A doll, dressed like a Victorian girl with bustled skirt and her hair piled up on the top of her head, stood in one corner next to a black-iron toy stove. It was probably one of those American Girl dolls that all her nieces collected. Now there was a good setup, thought Allison. She’d kill for an account like this. Expensive, high-end toys, well made, historically accurate within reason, even a little history lesson to go with them. An ad exec’s dream come true.

She’d never been a doll person herself, but she could appreciate the fine craftsmanship of this one. And she felt a pang of disappointment when the shopkeeper reached over the backdrop, lifted out the doll and carried it to the counter.

“Hey, Tiny Tim, give us a smile,” said Lee in an execrable British accent. Allison rolled her eyes at him, just as he snapped a picture.