Home > Dress Up Your Teddy (Her Teddy Bear #3)(10)

Dress Up Your Teddy (Her Teddy Bear #3)(10)
Author: Mimi Strong

He opened his eyes and gazed down into mine. “I know! That was just … oh, Naomi, that was incredible.”

I rolled myself off him and snuggled up higher on the bed on my side, resting my cheek on his outstretched arm. I twirled my finger through his chest hair.

“That was different,” I said. “I guess we were … making love?”

“Maybe,” he said, rolling to face me. “I think I felt more free, because for the first time in years, I stopped worrying about how I look.”

“Really?”

He kissed me. “It's all you, Naomi. I love you. Cute, adorable, sexy, fun, smart, sassy ...”

“Don't stop.”

He kissed me on the forehead, the nose, and then the lips, lingering.

“Should we go back to the party?” he asked.

“Do you wanna go back?”

“I probably should, since I'm the boss.” He pulled his hand away, got up from the bed, then grabbed the top linens from where they'd crumpled to the floor and jumped back in next to me, yanking the covers up over us. “Fuck it,” he said. “I'm the boss, which means I don't have to go.”

“Ooh, the boss.” I rolled in closer to him. “You can boss me around any time. I'll do anything for you, Mr. Boss Man.”

His tone got more serious, and he said, “Tonight, though, you have to sleep. It's your big day tomorrow, and I don't want to see you yawning up on stage during the sugar beet dance or whatever it's called.”

I smiled. “Sugar plum fairy?”

“That could work too,” he said.

Part 4: The Nutcracker

Trevor came to see me on opening night. I managed to sneak out in a trenchcoat and say hello to him before the show. I found him in the lobby with my parents, enjoying a glass of wine.

“Oh, I wish I could have one,” I said, taking a deep sniff of the wine.

“After the show, I'll buy you a whole bottle,” my father said.

Nikki wasn't there that night, but she was coming to one of the upcoming weekend matinees. I'm not one of those people who twists everyone's arm to come see her perform, but I admit I do enjoy the shows better when a loved one is in the audience.

Trevor gave me a hug and said, “You should know, I'm not a virgin. I've seen The Nutcracker before.”

My parents looked confused, so I explained, “When you see Rocky Horror for the first time, like Trevor did, you're a virgin.”

My mother put her hands on her h*ps proudly. “I'm definitely not a virgin!”

A few people turned and gave us funny looks.

“I should go.” I gave them all hugs, and then Trevor handed me something he'd been holding behind his back: a bouquet of red roses.

He said, “I can hold them for you after the show, if you want.”

I snatched them from his hands. “And miss showing them off right now to the other girls? No way.”

The performance went well, considering how many people had been shuffled around. One of the women in my group looked about sixty, but the woman could dance and sing, and she kicked my out-of-shape butt.

We performed the Waltz of the Snowflakes, and I was shocked to realize the show was half over. Time had flown so quickly on stage. We all hydrated and changed costumes as the stage hands cleared the sets. I had barely caught my breath, and we were dancing the Waltz of the Flowers, with an army of pre-teens from a local dance school. For some of them, it was their first big performance, and I felt so much joy to share in their excitement.

Yes, mistakes were made. A few people missed their cues, and my nose told me one of the daisies may have peed his or her pants. At least they were cute.

We finished, took our bows, and then the stage manager, Roger, came running over to me.

He said, “We have a Nutcracker down. Do you think your big boyfriend would mind putting on the costume and sitting for some photos with the kids?” He pressed his palms together. “Oh, please, please, please, say yes.”

“I can ask. And his name's Trevor.”

He held one hand over his chest and bowed. “Oh thank god.”

I ran out, still in full costume as a flower, and found Trevor. I explained the situation.

My father said, “I'll do it.”

“I'm sorry Dad, but the costume won't fit you. Our guy who plays the Nutcracker for appearances with the kids is very tall.”

Everybody turned to look at Trevor.

“Of course I'll do it,” he said.

We rushed him backstage, and quickly got him suited up. The kids in the lobby were already lining up, and some were cranky, as it was past their bedtime.

I left him in capable hands, got my makeup scrubbed off, and changed into some comfortable jeans.

When I returned, Trevor was already out in the lobby, greeting kids. I stood off to the side and watched him. He looked so handsome in the costume, from the tall black hat to the red jacket, fake sword at his side. They'd put eyeliner in exaggerated lines around his eyes, darkened his already thick eyebrows, and added round circles of red to his cheeks. As he was clean-shaven, they'd glued on a big, black mustache that curled up at the ends.

He looked like a dashing soldier, and my heart pounded in my chest when he looked up and made eye contact with me, his golden-brown eyes sparkling as he joked around with the kids.

Our regular kid-greeting Nutcracker was back to work the following night. It turned out he hadn't broken anything or succumbed to Mono; he'd simply gotten his dates mixed up. This Nutcracker was good, but he was goofy, and Trevor had played the part straight and serious.

The weird thing is, after seeing Trevor in that red jacket, and getting so turned on by seeing him play the role, I could barely look at the red jackets without getting turned on.

After our final performance, I talked to the costume designer and managed to borrow the tall-fitting red jacket and a hat.

On Christmas Eve, I went over to Trevor's house for the night. I told him to put in the contents of the bag I'd brought over and wait for me in the bedroom.

I ran off to the other upstairs bathroom and got changed into my costume. I'd adapted some things from my personal collection, mixing them with pieces from my wardrobe for the play. I basically looked like a very slutty sugar plum fairy.

As I skipped down the hall, I hoped Trevor was as turned-on as I was.

I knocked on the bedroom door and he opened, his face serious and his posture stiff.

“Hello, handsome soldier,” I said. “Do you know how to get to the Magic Castle on the Mountain of Sweets?”

He pointed to his crotch, his face still serious. “The Mountain of Sweets is right here.” He cracked a bit of a grin. “You can suck on as much candy as you find.”

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