Love Under the Mistletoe Page 8

  ‘It’s a long story.’ Inside, I’m glowing at being called “beautiful”. Richard never paid me much in the way of compliments; he just seemed to assume I should know the way he felt about me. ‘Yesterday should have been my wedding day.’

  Scott’s eyes widen in surprise, and he draws in a little breath. I’ve no idea what he expected me to tell him, but clearly, it wasn’t that.

  ‘I found out my husband-to-be was cheating on me. Someone decided they should let me know before I made the biggest mistake of my life.’ My mind flashes to the anonymous note. Maybe I’ll never discover who delivered it to me, even though I’d love to thank them if I ever get the chance. ‘So I left him standing at the altar, got on a plane, and … here I am.’

  ‘Wow.’ He shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Was the guy blind, or just stupid? Well, don’t worry, Dionne, I promise I’ll do my best to make the rest of your stay here as special as it can be.’

  ‘You don’t have to go to any trouble for me, Scott, honestly,’ I assure him, aware of a growing tension between us. The air seems thicker, somehow, charged with excitement.

  ‘But I want to. Just like I want to do this …’ He bends his head, and almost before I’m aware of what’s happening, he’s pressed his lips to mine in a gentle kiss.

  For a moment, I’m almost too stunned to react, then I let my mouth open a little way so he can push his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. I rise up on tiptoes so I can link my fingers around the back of his neck. With our bodies so tight together, I’m aware of Scott’s rising excitement. His cock pokes at my belly, hard and thick, reminding me of my naughty but nice fantasy about him in the shower.

  When we finally break apart, it seems neither of us can quite believe things have grown so hot between us so fast.

  ‘I’m sorry, I think I just crossed a line …’ Scott begins, flustered. The loose fit of his shorts helps to disguise the full extent of his arousal, but we both know how hard and ready for action he is.

  ‘No, it’s fine, honestly. I wanted that just as much as you did.’

  ‘But I’ve never done anything like this. Kissed a woman I barely even know.’

  ‘Scott, relax. I enjoyed it, and I’d like to do it again.’ To prove I mean it, I take the point of his chin in my hands and nip gently at his lower lip.

  His eyelids flutter shut and he relaxes into the kiss. My breasts are pressed to his chest, their tips hard as diamond. As they rub against his firm pecs, I wonder whether I could come just from that stimulation alone.

  Heat floods my belly. A small, shameless part of me wants him to unfasten the neck strap of my top, baring me to him. I want to lie naked in the surf with him, to plant kisses all the way down to that big, straining cock before taking it into my mouth …

  Scott breaks my reverie by taking a pace backwards. ‘I’m sorry, Dionne. It’s not that I don’t want to do this, but I have to be at work very soon.’ He looks at me with a hopeful expression. ‘I finish at eight. Maybe we could grab some dinner, do something then?’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Great.’ He raises my hand to his lips and kisses it, then jogs away up the beach.

  My body’s on fire, burning from the passion we’ve generated with those smouldering kisses. It would be so easy to go back to my room, grab the vibrator, and bring myself to orgasm after orgasm while dreaming about Scott. But I force myself to wait, and see what this evening brings.

  Chapter Four

  Come 8.15, I’m waiting at the front desk for Scott in the black dress I bought to impress Richard. It has a halter fastening and leaves the whole of my back bare, making it impossible to wear a bra beneath it. I really hope I haven’t overdone things, but the way Scott’s face lights up when he sees me lets me know he likes the effect.

  ‘Dionne, you look incredible.’

  He’s in his black uniform pants, but he’s wearing a washed-out chambray shirt that somehow manages to make his eyes look even bluer. When he smiles, my body starts to heat up all over again.

  I’ve spent the hours since Scott left me on the beach chilling out in the nicest possible ways. After a soak in the bubbling waters of the hot tub, I treated myself to a seaweed body wrap treatment in the spa, and now my skin is so soft it’s all I can do to stop myself running my fingertips over my bare arms.

  ‘How was work?’

  He lets out a mock groan. ‘A couple of the staff have gone down sick, so they had me supervising the crèche. Keeping an eye on a bunch of pre-schoolers is harder than I ever would have believed, let me tell you.’

  ‘So you’re ready for dinner, then?’

  ‘Hell, yeah.’

  Scott escorts me to the restaurant, where we’re found a table for two on the terrace that overlooks the beach. ‘One of the perks of being on the staff,’ he says with a wink.

  On Scott’s recommendation, I order the swordfish with a pineapple and chilli salsa, while he chooses steak and salad. We toast each other with glasses of champagne, and as I sip my drink, I look out at the darkened ocean.

  ‘So how was your day?’ Scott asks.

  ‘Amazing. I can’t remember the last time I had a whole day to myself like this, not having to be somewhere for a dress fitting, or meet with the cake designer to discuss shades of frosting.’

  We’re interrupted by the arrival of the waiter, who’s brought a basket of warm bread rolls. Scott waits for me to take one, then helps himself.

  ‘It’s also nice not to have to worry about everything I put in my mouth,’ I confess, as I butter the roll. ‘Richard wanted me to lose weight for the wedding, and I tried my hardest, but I just couldn’t shift those last seven pounds …’

  ‘Like I said before, the guy must be stupid – either that or some kind of control freak. You have a gorgeous figure, Dionne, and there’s no way on earth you need to be any thinner.’

  ‘Oh, you’re only saying that.’ I wish I could be more gracious and just accept the compliment for what it is, but after trying for so long to conform to Richard’s idea of how a desirable woman should look, it’s hard to believe this handsome man likes me the way I am.

  The waiter returns with our entrées, and for the next few minutes, our conversation is reduced mostly to comments about how good the food is.

  ‘So tell me more about this college course of yours,’ I say.

  ‘I’m majoring in business administration and management, and like I said, I’m in my senior year. My dream is one day to run a resort like this.’ He gestures with his fork to emphasise the point. ‘And what about you?’

  ‘My job or my dream?’ I gaze reflectively into my champagne flute. ‘I work in a store that sells vintage clothing, though Richard was hoping I’d give that up after we married. He liked the idea of having someone at home, cooking and keeping the place tidy, while he got on with the serious job of earning the money.’

  Scott makes a little snorting noise of disapproval, but says nothing.

  ‘Of course, everything’s changed now,’ I continue. ‘From now on, it’s about doing what makes me happy.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ Scott says.

  When the waiter arrives and asks if we’d like to see the dessert menu, Scott suggests, ‘Why don’t we have the baked Alaska? I’ve always wanted to try it, but you can only order it for two.’

  ‘That sounds good. And –’ I gesture to my glass ‘– could we have two more of these, please?’

  The waiter nods and disappears in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘I’m not usually a big drinker,’ I tell Scott, ‘but it is Christmas, after all.’

  ‘Hey, I wouldn’t dream of judging you. Like you said, whatever makes you happy.’

  The baked Alaska is just as spectacular as Scott promised, with rich vanilla ice cream encased in a perfectly cooked meringue crust. Scott insists on feeding me forkfuls of the dessert, and some devilish impulse compels me to suck it into my mouth slowly and deliberately, keeping my eyes fixed on his the whole time.

&nbs
p; Even before we’ve finished eating, my underwear is so wet it clings to me. I slip off one of my sandals, and place my bare foot in Scott’s lap. The bulge my sole makes contact with is evidence that he’s equally excited, and I tease him by wiggling my toes against that hard length.

  ‘Dionne, you don’t know what that’s doing to me,’ he groans, but he doesn’t attempt to remove my foot from where it rests. I’m sure I could bring him off where he sits, while the rest of the diners remain oblivious to my very wicked game of footsie. Somehow, I manage to restrain myself, and when the waiter arrives to ask whether we’d like coffee, we simply shake our heads and hurry off up to my room so we can finish what we’ve started.

  We’re barely through the door before Scott’s mouth is on mine. His kisses are hot, urgent, and his hands roam over the bare expanse of my back and shoulders. I press myself tight to him, feeling the erection I’ve been stoking throughout dinner poke hard at my belly.

  He plucks at the halter fastening of my dress, and the material falls forward, exposing my tits to him. Scott draws in a breath at the sight of the full globes with their firm, ruby nipples, then he bends to take one of the little buds in his mouth. When he sucks, I feel the sensation shoot all the way down to my crotch, every nerve ending connected in a web of desire.

  I tangle my fingers in his silky blond hair, pulling his head even harder onto my breast. He licks and nibbles until my pussy is molten with need, and all I want him to do is strip me entirely, throw me down on the bed, and sink his cock into my liquid depths.

  Scott’s working to his own agenda, though, and he picks me up in his arms and carries me over to the couch. Once there, he sits me down and spreads my legs wide, reaching up under my rucked-up dress to tug at my wet panties. I have to raise my bottom so he can guide the flimsy white lace down and off, and as I do, I gaze into his eyes, overwhelmed by the need reflected in them.

  He spends a long moment staring at my naked sex, as though he’s imprinting its contours on his memory. His frank scrutiny should unnerve me, but I’ve never felt so beautifully exposed, or so deeply desired.

  ‘Gorgeous,’ he murmurs, and traces a finger over my soft lower lips, which have opened like a rare, exotic flower.

  I let my head loll against the back of the couch and close my eyes as he continues to touch me. He dips a finger into my welling juices and uses it to circle my clit. Just as I’m growing used to his tender caresses, he stops what he’s doing.

  Rising to his feet, he undresses down to a pair of black jockey shorts that struggle to contain his swollen dick. I want to touch it, but when I reach out a hand, he stops me. ‘Not yet. First, I want to make you feel good.’

  He takes up a kneeling position between my legs, and when he places the first of a series of short, pecking kisses on the inside of my thigh, his intentions are all too clear. But my pleasure isn’t going to come swiftly: he works steadily higher, licking the sensitive flesh and then blowing air on it, making me squirm against the couch. When he’s reached the crease of my thigh, I prepare myself for the next kiss, which will surely be dropped on my clit. Except he starts repeating the process with my other leg, licking and blowing, reducing me to a helpless, whimpering creature driven by frustration and need.

  When he raises his head and our eyes meet, I see the amusement in his, and realise this must be his revenge for my teasing game in the restaurant. OK, I want to tell him, we’re equal. Now please, put your mouth where I really want it.

  He must know how desperate I am because at long last, he turns his attention to my wet folds, taking each inner lip in turn in his mouth and sucking the delicate flesh. Then he switches tack, using his tongue to lave the length of my crease in one long, slow sweep. I’m so on edge from all the prolonged build-up that when he flicks the tip of that wicked tongue over my clit, the first sweet tremors of orgasm shake my core.

  Scott slips a finger inside me, and adds a second, so I’m nicely filled. He thrusts them in and out rapidly in time to his little feline licks, and that does the trick. I cry out and convulse around those two thick digits.

  ‘Good?’ he says when the coloured lights have stopped dancing before my eyes and I can look at him once more.

  In reply, I pull his face up to mine and kiss him hard, tasting my own briny sweetness on his lips.

  He helps me to my feet, and the dress slithers down my legs, leaving me standing in a pool of expensive black fabric.

  ‘Your turn now,’ I tell him. ‘Make yourself comfortable. I just need to fetch something.’

  I have a strip of condoms in my wash bag. There was a time, after Richard and I had been together long enough to be certain we were in a committed relationship, when I tried using the pill, but it never agreed with me. He was happy enough to return to our old form of protection, though I can’t help wondering now whether he was sleeping with Marcie on the side even then, and wanted to make sure he wasn’t running the risk of passing anything unpleasant on to me.

  When I return to the bedroom, Scott is lying on the bed, still in his tight black underwear. He’s stroking himself through the cotton, and the sight has me shaking my head and addressing him in a faux-serious tone.

  ‘Who gave you permission to do that?’

  ‘No one,’ he replies, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he slides a hand into the waistband and grasps his shaft.

  ‘Hey, that’s my job.’ I climb onto the bed next to him, and peel off his shorts. His cock springs up, its tip glistening with precome. I can’t resist dipping my head so I can lick up those droplets of salty juice.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he murmurs, as my lapping changes to slow passes of my tongue down to the root and back. I suck the head between my lips, looking up at him through lowered eyelids. Scott grips fistfuls of the bedcovers and humps his hips upwards, trying to push more of himself into my mouth.

  I could easily make him come this way, but I need to have him inside me. I lose my oral hold on him, and set about ripping open a condom. He doesn’t object as I fit it in place, then I take his shaft in a firm grip and straddle him, positioning myself so he’s in line with the entrance to my pussy.

  I don’t need to ask whether he’s ready for this. His body is tense and his breathing shallow, as if he’s afraid of doing anything that might cause me to change my mind about this. But he has no need to worry. In one slow, easy movement, I sink down onto his cock, biting my lip as I grow used to the feeling of having someone inside me who’s just that little bit longer and thicker than Richard.

  ‘God, you’re so hot and tight,’ Scott says. ‘It’s like being squeezed by a velvet-covered vice …’

  Then he appears to lose the power of speech as I rock back and forth, a little awkward in my movements at first, but gradually finding a rhythm that seems to be hitting the spot for both of us. As he grows more excited, Scott starts to thrust up, driving into me as I slide all the way down on him.

  Our cries ring out, and I hope the guests in the neighbouring room aren’t around to hear all the noise we’re making. But I can’t keep quiet now, even if I’d wanted to. Gazing into Scott’s eyes, I’m swept away on a tide of passion, feeling a connection to him of a kind I never dreamed I’d experience.

  When we come, it’s almost at the same time, him tumbling over the edge first with me following hard after. I slump forward onto his chest, feeling his cock slip out of me, and he gathers me into an embrace.

  ‘That was …’ I struggle to find the words, finally settling for, ‘I just don’t remember the last time it was like that.’

  ‘You’re pretty incredible, you know that?’ Scott replies.

  ‘I just know men like it when a woman goes on top.’ It was always the position Richard liked most, though I’m not going to tell Scott that.

  ‘Well, that’s because you’re the one doing most of the work.’ He runs a hand down my flank. ‘And I’m getting the feeling you believe that’s the way it always has to be. But maybe you should try something you never have before. Just lie
back and hand all responsibility for your pleasure over to someone else.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that.’

  ‘Dionne, life isn’t always about pleasing someone else, about doing what you think will make other people happy. Sometimes, you have to put yourself first, be a little selfish, you know?’

  ‘I ran away from my own wedding. Doesn’t that count as selfish?’

  ‘From what you told me, if you hadn’t, you would have ended up married to a total love rat. I figure that makes you eminently sensible.’

  He slides out from under me. ‘Just got to use the bathroom.’

  I lie back, already half-asleep, and listen to the sounds of the bathroom fan humming to itself and the toilet flushing. Strange how I feel so comfortable around Scott, even though we only met yesterday.

  When he climbs back into bed and pulls the covers over us both, he says, ‘Don’t be surprised if I’m not here when you wake up. I’d love to stay here and pick up where we just left off, but I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and an early start. I’ll see you at the luau, though, and I’m going to make sure you have a Christmas you’ll never forget.’

  I snuggle up against him. He’s already done that, if only he knew it. I’m intrigued to know what exactly Scott has planned that could top a wonderfully romantic dinner and the best sex I’ve ever enjoyed, but for now, I’m just content to lie here and fall asleep in his arms. Maybe, if I’ve been good enough this year, Santa will give me what I want the most and I’ll never have to return to the real world.

  Chapter Five

  I’m used to waking on Christmas morning to the smell of turkey roasting in the oven, and the sound of my mom singing along to the radio as she bustles around the kitchen. Today, I open my eyes to be greeted by another beautiful Hawaiian morning, where the only noise is the distant rolling of the surf on the beach.

  Glancing over, I see the sheets on the other side of the bed have been thrown back and the pillow still bears the imprint of Scott’s head. If it wasn’t for the slight but pleasurable ache between my legs, I’d be tempted to believe I dreamed what happened last night. How have I waited so long to discover sex could be like that? Richard never left me feeling unsatisfied – physically, at least – but, as corny as it sounds, Scott touched some hidden place in my soul.