Bet on a Mistletoe (3 page)

     
It
wasn’t Evelyn. This girl tasted like sugarplums, not spearmint candy. She was
an instant addiction. He needed more of her. Taking another step, he pressed
her along the oak and aligned his body to her curves. A part of his brain tried
to tell him that he should stop, but it was overruled by the pure pleasure of
feeling her hands glide into his hair. The kiss deepened, they were both
willing participants now.

     
His
hands went on an adventure of their own. One traveled underneath the edge of
her shirt, feeling the soft heat of her skin. She squirmed, he would have
smiled with the knowledge of discovering her delicious sweet spot, but his lips
were still too busy with kissing her. His other hand traveled around her waist
and cupped the thick plumpness of her backside. Her ass was perfectly round and
filled his hand just the way he liked.

     
No
way in hell was this Evelyn. She was pretty but very petite, to the point of
frailness. He always had to restrain himself in fear he’d hurt her. Not this
girl. She took the intensity of his passion and gave it back in full measure.

     
He
wanted to know who this delectable girl was, but he didn’t want the moment to
end. Never before had he been turned inside out as he felt right then. Who was
she? Who was she?

     
Lifting
his hand higher under her shirt, he felt the warm supple weight of her breast.
The heat of her skin seared him through the silky thin material of her bathing
suit top. Groaning, he stroked the distended peak of her nipple. Moaning, she
clutched his hand, holding it tighter against her. He responded by grinding his
hips into her and allowing her to fully comprehend how she was affecting him.

     
Another
branch snapped somewhere around them, and they froze. Their breathing heavy,
Intertwined between their bowed heads. She was just as affected which satisfied
him.

     
Before
he could fix his lips to find out the identity of his woodsy nymph someone
called his name.

     
It
was Evelyn’s high pitched voice. While he’d turned to see how close the
intruder was
,
his mystery girl had left.

     
Richard
didn’t know if it was the sound of his own groan that awakened him or the
beaming light of the sun ray through a crack in his blinds. Either way he had a
hard-on to deal with. It wasn’t his typical morning wood, no this one was
generated by erotic thoughts of Lorna. Ones he hadn’t had in years. His last
two years of high school he spent palming himself every morning thinking about
the girl he couldn’t have. Now as a man he was caught in the same state at
dawn.

     
He’d be
damned if he was going to go through the motions of jerking himself off each
morning just so he could be decent around her. Not allowing his dick the
opportunity to raise its thick head and embarrass him. He was a grown ass man,
this time he was going to get what he’d wanted years ago.

     
Lorna.

     
Just as
soon as he took care of the current problem at hand. Flinging the covers down,
he freed himself from his boxers and wrapped his hand around his pride and joy.
Glancing down, he saw his own strong fingers circling it and smiled to himself
as images of Lorna’s beautiful ginger hand there instead. Thinking about the
feeling and sight of Lorna stroking his cock, caused him to squeeze his eyes together.

     
The
pressure was intense, he shook with desire. Not just the present desire to get
himself off, but more with the need to have Lorna by his side.
In his bed, surrounding his body.

     
That
did it. A few firm glides up and down his dick and he was erupting over his own
hand. Heat and shivers of release slid along his spine as the warm sticky
substance continued to ooze from the tip of his rod.

     
Getting
up, he crossed the room to the bathroom. Washed his hands first then turned on
his shower. He knew the physical relief he felt now was only temporary. As he
got under the spray of water his mind began to consider ways he could make
Lorna a permanent in his life.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” her father smiled up
at her as he sat in his lazy-boy in front of the fire completing a crossword
puzzle.

     
“Afternoon?”
Stepping off the last step, she glanced out the
window and saw the sun high and bright. Most of the snow was gone from the
night before. “Wow, I didn’t realize I was being a slug-a-bed.” Moving to him,
she kissed him on the cheek.

     
“You
were probably tired from your trip.” Her father patted her shoulder. “Why don’t
we head in the kitchen and get you something to eat.”

     
She
took note of the slowness in which her father rose from his chair. Concern
tightened her forehead.
“Dad, you alright?”

     
“Never better.
You know I always get a little stiff around
the winter. That’s why we go visit your Aunt Gertie for Christmas every year in
Florida. But, since you have other things to take care of, we’re staying here.”

     
“Good
thing we did, too, Samson,” her mother’s light voice joined in when they
entered the kitchen. She was sitting at the table with a large puzzle before
her. The shapes were so
tiny,
Lorna guessed it to be
another two thousand piece puzzle she was putting together.

     
Lorna
smiled. Her mother always did have ears all over the house. “Mom, shouldn’t you
have your glasses on?”

     
“That’s
right.” Her father added his chorus. “Rebecca Jean never listens to me, Honey
bear. Nope.

     
So, you
sit down as I fix your breakfast and give your mother a fit.”

     
Laughing
at her mother as she rolled her eyes, then snatched up her glasses from the
other end of the table.

     
“There,
Samson, are you happy now?” She topped it off by sticking out her tongue.

     
Her
father didn’t see because his back was to them as he pulled pans and
ingredients out of the cabinet.

     
“It
wouldn’t take her half as long to finish one as it does.” Her father called out
over sizzling bacon.

     
“What’s
the rush? I’ll just start another one. All I got is time on my hands.”

     
Her
father grumbled more, but the conversation stopped momentarily. Lorna enjoyed
sitting and listening to her parents hassle each other. She had no doubt of
their love. They were best friends who’d fallen in love and married. As she
took in both of them comfortable in their home, two people who had always
appeared ageless to her, she noticed the reality of how much they had aged
since the last time she was home.

     
It was
true they went to Florida, but she always thought it was just for the family
annual get together. Not due to her father’s arthritis. Her mother’s sight was
going. What was next? She was the only child. Her parents were in their late
sixties. Maybe it was time she did think about coming home to visit
them
more often, if, and when, she ever found another job.

     
“So,
sweetheart, how long will you be home? Can I hope until the New Year?” Her
mother grabbed her hand.

     
“Rebecca
Jean, her job is very demanding with the Cosco, Stevenson, Lincoln, Clevand,
Bangel and Jones firm she works for in D.C.”

     
Giggling,
Lorna corrected her father who frequently messed up the name of the accounting
firm she had worked for over six years.
“Bangel, Jones,
Robertson and Cosco.”
Then she became a little more serious remembering
her mother’s question. “I’ll definitely be here for Christmas then we’ll play
the rest by ear. You’re not tired of me already, are you?”

     
She’d
have to go into town to use the internet at the library and continue her job
searching. She hoped that she’d get a bite before the rest of her things showed
up at the house. With the holiday, the packing and shipping company wouldn’t be
able to get it out before the end of the year.

     
“No, never.
I could see my precious baby girl everyday and
never tire of it.”

     
Even if she were jobless and mooching off you and dad?
She
picked up a puzzle piece and pretended to study the table for its placement,
while she thought.

     
“Alright,
Lorna, here’s your breakfast.” Her father put the plate down at the other end
of the table, away from the jigsaw puzzle covering the other half.

     
Smiling,
she got up. She hugged him before she took her seat in front of the mini feast
of eggs, bacon, grits and biscuits and gravy. “Wow, Dad, everything looks and
smells great as always.” It had been a while since she’d eaten more than a
carton of yogurt for breakfast.

     
“You
have as much as you want. There’s plenty.” He sat beside her with a bacon
biscuit.

     
Looking
over at the stove she said, “Enough for a small army, Dad.”

     
“Oh,
don’t mind your dad. You get a good fillin’ the rest we’ll take to the city for
the mission in a little while.” Her mother gazed down the six person table at
her. “But, while you’re here we’re going to help you gain a few pounds. You
look thinner since we saw you last year.”

     
Digging
into her food, Lorna saved herself from responding more than a word or two. If
they stayed on this conversation long her parents would know how hard it was to
gain weight living off yogurt, salad, and tuna.

     
The door bell rung.

     
“That
must be Carla Mae ready to take the clothes and things into Winston.” Fixing a
piece into place, her mother rose and headed toward the door.

     
“So,
where did you leave your car?”

     
“Off
the road by the old pre-school, it was just a little overheated. It should be
fine now.” Taking a few more bites of food, she became silent. She was hoping
her car would be okay and just needed to cool down like always.

     
“Well,
good morning, Greg.” Her mother’s voice rang into the kitchen.

     
Lorna
accompanied her dad into the living room to meet the unexpected guest.

     
“Greg.
What brings you out here this afternoon?” Her father shook hands with his
brother and patted him on the back. “I thought we agreed that tomorrow we’d go
get a tree for Margret, is she bugging you?”

     
“We did.”
Greg nodded. His dark chocolate features broke into a smile when he saw her.
“Well, I’ll be, Lorna. It is good to see you. I told my sons I’d bring your car
over myself just to see that pretty face.”

     
She
grinned and hugged him.
“Hi, Uncle Greg.
How are Peter
and Paul doing?” Her uncle had raised twin boys alone after his wife ran off
with a truck driver. It had been the scandal of the year twenty years ago.

     
“Fine, fine.”

     
“You
said you got Lorna’s car from the road?” her dad asked.

     
“Nope.”
Greg shook his gray capped head. “Early as the
birds, Richard Patterson came by the house with her car in tow.”

     
Speechless,
Lorna stared at her uncle. Richard had taken her car to the mechanic? “Thanks,
Uncle Greg. How much do I owe you for the antifreeze? It ran a little hot last
night, but I didn’t have time to put some in there.”

     
“You
owe me nothing. While I had it I did a check and replaced a few things on it
and got you some tires. I don’t know how you made it here with those threads
you were running on.”