A Taste of Pleasure (17 page)

London smiled as she gazed off into the backyard. Large snowflakes were falling to the snowy ground, covering it like a white blanket, the lights that she and Jon had hung were twinkling on the small pines, and the snowman and snowwoman were smiling up at everyone. Jon was amazing. She never could have pulled this off without him.

Her mind drifted back inside. Everyone had a date except her and she was beginning to feel awkward as she watched them taking turns kissing under the mistletoe, dancing, and cuddling with each other. It was 10:00 and he still had not
arrived. She headed to her bedroom to check the mirror and use the bathroom. As she entered the room, someone shut the door behind her. To her surprise, it was Deacon.

“Did you think I wouldn't come?” he said as he pushed her to the wall with a kiss. He cupped her breasts, then pulled off her blouse and undid her bra. His mouth left hers and kissed her all the way down to her nipples, which already were hard and pointed. Her hot spot was so wet and wanting while his hands touched her. She was a little anxious about having so many people in the house and also had an urge to return to tend to her guests. She knew they would soon be missing her, but his mouth consumed her body and she couldn't resist. She gave in as she tried to get her mouth down on his hardness. He cupped her face.

“Not this time, precious, it's my turn.”

She smiled as he unzipped his pants, letting them fall to his feet. He stepped out of them, took out his hardness, and rubbed her passion zone with it. He went between her legs, touching her wetness. She felt him circling around, teasing her with his hardness.

“Please take me now,” she pleaded, feeling the passion. She grabbed on to his neck and wrapped her legs around him as he slid deep into her, taking her breath away. As he kept pushing, he held on to her ass and at the same time tilted her toward him. He carried her over to the bed and placed her on the edge where he laid her down, kissing her, holding on to her. He put her legs on his shoulders and penetrated even deeper.

Every time she had him, he felt bigger than before, always wonderful, hard, and throbbing. She felt herself relax as he pumped into her with slow, deep thrusts, sucking her breath out of her each time he partially pulled out. Her wetness increased; her vagina walls pulsed. She moaned and he
groaned as he flipped her over and took her from behind, his hand touching her erogenous zone. He rubbed and made her come at the same time as him. He convulsed inside of her as the door suddenly opened. She and Deacon gasped before recognizing Paris. The three of them came to a standstill and stared, not knowing what next to do, until Paris smiled with approval.

“Sorry, sorry. I thought you were alone in here. I mean . . . ,” she said, making a graceful exit.

Deacon and London giggled and got themselves together to rejoin the party.

“At least she had good timing,”

“Oh, Deacon, that was my friend Paris, by the way. So glad you two could finally meet since I didn't get to introduce you at the ice cream parlor.”

He straightened his tie, then gave her a quick slap on her now-covered behind.

“Ms. Shelby, I do believe there is a party going on downstairs and it is rude for the hostess to not be there.”

She fluffed her messy hair, touched up her lipstick, and stole one more kiss before they went downstairs. London thrived on introductions as everyone finally met her Deacon. The night was a huge success and a few taxis even had to be called for those who had overindulged in the spirits.

She awoke the next morning, hoping to find him beside her, but Deacon was gone as usual. She missed him more than ever and couldn't imagine that he would be working today. They'd been so busy with the party they hadn't had much time to discuss their weekend holiday plans, but she thought they would be together. She shook off her worries and reminded herself that it was Christmas Eve and time to finish shopping and visit Santa Claus.

She bundled up in her black wool coat, red scarf, and red gloves. She enjoyed the drive to the city in the snow in her SUV. Sounds of the season bellowed from the radio and she sang along, excited for her adventure. On her way, she decided to circle through the parking lot at the law firm offices to see if Deacon was actually at work on Christmas Eve. She thought she might pop in to pay him a visit and scold him, but his car was not there.

Her next stop was to pick up Deacon's gift, a Rolex engraved on the back:
TO THE MAN WHO STOLE MY HEART
,
LOVE FOREVER
,
LONDON
. Deacon deserved only the finest, which of course included her too. She couldn't wait to see him and stun him with her new red lace teddy, then with his new watch.

She proceeded on to the mall, where she found the long line to see Santa Claus. Just like the children, she wanted to see him too but was informed by an elf that she had about an hour to wait.
Oh well
, thought London,
that's the price I pay for procrastinating.
She waited with the others and drew the attention of some little children who noticed that she was not escorting someone their size and giggled at her. The elaborate decorations throughout the mall, including a toy train circling on its tracks through a wintry scenic town, were lovely and made her joyful. She hummed along to the tune of “Baby, It's Cold Outside” as her mind drifted to memories of Christmases past.

She remembered once asking Santa for a Sonja Henie ice-skating doll when she was seven years old. He had asked her why she didn't want something more modern. She explained that she wanted the antique doll because she loved to watch Ms. Henie's old black-and-white films with her grandma. London also told Santa that someday she would be
an Olympic figure skater too, just like Ms. Henie. She recalled the joy she felt when she opened the box to find her doll, perfect in every way right down to the lace-up, genuine leather, white ice skates. She played with that doll for years to come and it still sat proudly on a shelf in her bedroom.

On a Christmas, not so many years ago, a good friend had surprised her with a diamond ring. She had returned it to him with a note,
THANKS
,
BUT NO THANKS
. She was a free spirit and enjoyed her independence very much. She wasn't ready to be tied down to any one man at that time. Now, as she was getting older, she was changing. The thought of having someone there at her side, through thick and thin, was starting to become inviting. She could see the benefit of marriage, if it were to someone whose love for her would match hers for him and would want her forever.

“Ma'am?” an elf called out to London. “Ma'am, it's your turn.”

She walked toward Santa and her heart pounded a bit, just as it had when she was a kid. The man in his red velvet costume looked a bit surprised, then showed amusement that this grown lady was approaching. “May I, Santa?” She giggled as she sat lightly and gently on his lap, posing for a photo. A faint wisp of familiar cologne surrounded him. She whispered in his ear what she really wanted for Christmas. “Santa, I would love Deacon to be with me on Christmas Day.” Then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She picked up her photo, did a little more shopping, and headed home.

The newly fallen snow made driving a bit tricky. The plow trucks were zipping here and there, racing to keep up as the snow fell rapidly. Heavy or not, the snow was no match for London in her SUV. She pushed it into four-wheel drive and moved effortlessly through the storm, until she got home,
where her tires slipped a little on the icy driveway. She maintained control and parked safely in the garage.

She wrapped her presents with care, including the special one for Deacon, and placed them under the miniature decorated pine tree covered in crystals that sat on her dresser, which was Jon's surprise for her. She watched as the sun shined through the crystals, causing the wall to fill with tiny rainbows from the prisms on the shimmering tree. She kept thinking about Santa and his eyes, his familiar scent and how she had felt so connected to him. He reminded her of Deacon. Every attractive man reminded her of Deacon. But she knew Santa was Deacon. That's why his car wasn't at work today, and why he wasn't here with her now. She smiled at the thought of him sitting there all day, patiently greeting each little child and making their holidays bright. It warmed her heart and filled her with more desire. She had mentioned to him that she had to go visit Santa and he never said a word.

Soon it was dark and the mini white lights glistened across the property outside on the tiny pine trees that lined her driveway all the way to the house. Her Christmas tree looked so beautiful she was almost sad that tomorrow was Christmas Day. She didn't want the holiday season to end, along with all its joyous spirit. She drank some hot chocolate and went to bed, wishing Deacon was beside her.

It was about 2:00 a.m. when she awoke. She thought she heard footsteps on the roof. She listened closely for a moment, grabbed her blanket, pulling it up to her neck as she sat up in bed. She heard the noise again, much louder this time. She got goose bumps and her hair stood on end. There was definitely someone up there. She slowly reached into her nightstand and retrieved her tiny 9mm Ruger. As she cocked it, she felt a wave of safety and self-confidence come over her. She was an
excellent markswoman and was not worried. Among so many other things, Grams had taught her well to take down a target if she had to.

She made her way downstairs, armed and ready. She saw a shadowy figure outside the front door. He was tall and fat. She blinked her eyes to see if she was dreaming. From a distance, it appeared to be Santa Claus. She got closer and peeked out the window. It
was
Santa Claus. He looked like the same one she had visited at Midtown Mall. She was sure of it, and she was almost certain it was Deacon. He waved at her, and she turned off the alarm system and opened the door.

“Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” he said in a deep, jolly voice. He smiled as he took a large bag of presents off his shoulders. He kissed her on the cheek, then walked over to the front room. He placed the presents under the tree, then spun around and grabbed her, kissing with his white beard tickling her face. She played along, still pretending not to know that it was him, but after a minute she tugged his beard off.

“Oh my, what a surprise,” she shrieked, feigning astonishment. They laughed still in their embrace. He kissed her like he hadn't seen her in months.

“I am so happy to see you!” he said with a childlike tone that she hadn't heard in him before. He caressed her and held her tightly. He was the best Christmas present ever.

He picked her up and carried her up the curved staircase to her room, where he kissed her some more as he undid her silky robe. He covered her with kisses and hugs as he stroked and fondled her lacy lingerie hungrily. He peeled off his Santa suit, and they both laughed as the belly stuffing fell out onto the floor.

“Now, wait here and don't move. I have three surprises for you,” he said.

He raced abruptly from the room, streaking through the house and down the stairs. She couldn't imagine what he could be up to, but she anxiously awaited his return. He finally came back, cradling a small bowl in his hands.

“Let's begin with your first surprise tonight, a hot oil massage.”

London melted as his magic hands stroked and massaged slowly on every muscle. She wiggled with lust as he worked his way down her back to her thighs, stroking between them and teasing her with the warm oil. He rolled her over and caressed her front, teasing her again as he stroked her breasts, stimulated her nipples, and slipped his hands down to her sex.

Suddenly, he sat up on the bed. “And for the next surprise . . .”

He revealed a new toy—a vibrating ring that he slipped over his hardness. It would tickle her button as he eased in and out of her. She wanted to feel him now and she pleaded with him, squirming around on the satin sheets, still slippery from the oil, pulling him toward her with her eyes.

“Are you ready, precious?” he asked, kissing her as he lay down next to her, his mouth on hers. He licked her lips and toyed with her tongue, his fingers now inside her, moving them in circles. She breathed deeply and reached for the button to turn on his toy. He gasped and rolled over on top of her. She felt his fullness and the pending emotion, and finally the explosion that sent them both to the mattress. He pulled her to him, held on to her, coddled her in his arms, kissing her, pulling her hair back from her face as he kissed her again and again.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” she whispered in his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was exhilarating.”

He looked at her and said, “I love you, London.”

“I love you too, Deacon,” she replied, surprised at the sound of her own words. “Let's go have some coffee by the fire
together,” she suggested. As she remembered the surprise she had for him she grabbed it off the dresser.

They slipped into their robes and went downstairs. She whipped up two espressos and they sipped and cuddled by the fire, chatting about his day at the mall. After a while, she got up to retrieve the special box from her pocket and handed it to Deacon.

“Open this.”

“Shouldn't I wait until morning?” he asked.

“It is morning, silly,” she retorted.

He grinned as he gently peeled away the wrap and opened the velvety box to reveal the gold Rolex. His face lit up and he gave her a kiss.

“It's very extravagant. Thank you, London.”

“You deserve it. Now read the back,” she urged.

He did as she ordered. “
TO THE MAN WHO STOLE MY HEART
,
LOVE
,
LONDON
.”

He hugged her and kissed her.

“And now, for the woman who has stolen my heart . . . ,” Deacon said as he smiled and handed her a gift. It was a very small box that he had tucked in the pocket of his robe.