"Fuck me now. Ride me hard."
I didn't need to be asked twice. Bucking against his groin while the road rolled under us excited us both and we fell into a primitive rhythm. It was artless. It was crude need. I loved it.
His face was intensely contorted. I banged down on him, propelled by his hands the slap, slap of our flesh mingling with guttural grunts of exertion as we strained toward climax. When I reached around and cupped his tight ball sack in my hand, I could feel him tip over the edge. I added a roll of my hips each time the base of his cock touched my body, grinding my clit into him as hard as I could.
When I felt the contractions I breathed, "I'm coming now, give me . . . give me."
He gave. Great gushes of hot spunk hit me inside. He slammed my hips hard against his with each spurt, growling his release each time. I 'd feel the power of his bruising fuck for days. I knew I'd savor each time the delicious ache reminded me how it got there.
Twelve
My apartment was full of flowers again. I hadn't intended to decorate for Christmas, except what Mr. Clemson and I had done for the shop, but Tristan sent over a little three foot tree that was perfect. It was exquisitely decorated with miniature ornaments, satin ribbons and a darling lace skirt and of course, it looked like it had cost a fortune. My mother's tree still boasted craft dough stars and clothespin reindeer my sisters and I contributed over the years. Tristan had mentioned how special his mother had made Christmas for him and as I worked the stacks I wondered what I could do to bring some of that magic back for him.
"The stage manager returns tomorrow," I told him the Sunday after our weekend reconciliation.
"Thank God for that. I hope that you intend to give me 'credit' for the nights I didn't get to see you. By my count, you owe me at least four nights."
"I have a favor to ask you."
"Anything for you. You should know that by now. Are you ready for me to replace that godawful car of yours?"
"No, I want the key to your apartment."
"Isn't this a rather drastic turnaround? Just a couple weeks ago you were limiting me to a 'few' dates a week."
I laughed. "I'm not moving in. I just want to surprise you with something. Can you trust me with your keys for a day?"
"I suppose so . . . You aren't going to steal the silver are you?"
"No."
"Swipe my Cezanne?"
"No."
"Mangle my Monet?"
"No, I promise I won't touch your treasures."
"Oh please! My treasures adore your touch!"
"You know what I mean."
"Okay, when do you need the keys?"
"Tuesday. I have the day off. You need to stay at the office all day."
"Such mystery."
"I think you'll like what I have planned. Can you drop the keys off at the book store tomorrow? You do know where it is, don't you? Right across from Zabars."
"I know it, but I have to . . . I'll leave them with the doorman. He knows you."
I spent Monday on line and on the telephone. One of the most amazing things about New York is that you can literally get anything you want delivered to your doorstep. It took every penny I had saved from my time at the Bookmark but I managed to pull together a respectable semblance of a traditional Christmas in Tristan's apartment.
I had a live tree, of course. The ornaments were all old-fashioned German glass ones with lovely bright colors and lots of sparkle. I remembered his comment about the time his mother wrapped the presents in 'natural' materials and he didn't like the lack of shine. I went all out with shine. Live garlands adorned each window sill and I found some pretty brass lamps that looked like very realistic candlesticks for the windows. I hung two ornate stockings on the mantle and a beautiful wreath on the door. Gingerbread scented candles mingled their sweetness with the crisp piney greens.
I had several boxes--just little things--wrapped up in gold and red that I arranged under the tree. I had fun in the toy store when I discovered the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were back and bigger than ever. It wasn't hard to find a set of genuine TMNT nunchucks and the latest versions of the action figures. I figured I couldn't buy him anything fancy so I went for fun instead.
I locked the door behind me, returned the keys to the doorman and was back at the Bookmark an hour before our closing time of six o'clock. Boyd was talking with his grandfather and a pretty girl I knew must be Phoebe when I arrived.
"This is my Phoebe," Boyd smiled. "The light of my life."
"I am so pleased to meet you, Phoebe. Boyd never stops talking about you." She had a heart-shaped face, big blue eyes and strawberry blond hair. I couldn't help but think she had to stand out in any Spanish crowd.
"Pleased to meet you, too, Raina. Boyd's been telling me about what you guys are doing for Grandpa Clemson. It's long overdue." She patted the old man on the hand. "You need to join the modern world, Grandpa."
I envied her the familiarity and the easy way she fit herself right into Boyd's life. Even though I hit it off well enough with Bradley King, I couldn't imagine ever calling him 'Dad'.
"Let's close up and go have a drink, shall we?" asked Mr. Clemson. "It seems like ages since you've been around to indulge and old man, Phoebe."
We all turned our collars to the cold damp wind that had blown in that afternoon. We hadn't had any snow but Mr. Clemson remarked that it looked like a 'snowy sky'. I always hoped for a white Christmas. It added to the magic of the season. I took out my phone and checked the time. It wasn't even five thirty yet and Tristan probably wouldn't get home for another hour or more. I was impatient to know his reaction. I thought he'd be pleased, but there was a tiny niggling fear that perhaps I had somehow overstepped the limits. There had been so few opportunities for me to do anything for Tristan, it was always the other way around. Maybe he wouldn't like the sentimental gesture. Oh well, too late.
We swept into Kilburn's propelled by the force of a sudden icy gust against our backs. It was half full but we found a nice warm booth toward the back, away from chilly blasts from the door. Mr. Clemson and I sat on one side and Boyd and Phoebe snuggled tight together on the other.
"So, what were you up to today?" Boyd asked me.
"I was planning a Christmas surprise for a friend."
"I went shopping," Phoebe put in. "Spain is wonderful, but there's nothing that can compare to Fifth Avenue at Christmas time. I'm so glad to be back. I've missed everyone so much."
"And we've missed you, my dear," Mr. Clemson smiled.