Bouncing (30 page)

“Uyuuhh,” Alex groaned, and Brit stroked her, the moan and the movement causing Brit’s excitement to mount, too. Her heart raced from the pleasure of Alex’s breast in her mouth and her finger inside her and from the pressure of Alex’s leg against hers. The need to come was becoming almost painful, and Brit knew she needed to stop or go, so she pulled back, moved down, covering Alex’s clit with her mouth, soaking the fabric of her panties as she sucked through them, fucking Alex frantically and sucking even harder, until Alex’s hips rose and her moaning became a cry of release. Still Brit kept at it, until a minute later Alex’s lower body collapsed onto the bed and she begged Brit to stop.

Brit slid up the length of Alex’s body and kissed her hard on the mouth, rubbing her center against Alex’s leg. God, she was hot. On fire, actually. Every cell in her body seemed to burn with lust and she moved her hips. Finally, looking into Alex’s eyes, she thrust hard against her and exploded.

Brit collapsed where she was, too exhausted to move, and when she awakened, the apartment was quiet. Kenny G had put away his sax and gone to bed. The candles had been extinguished; at least she hoped Alex had put them all out. Sunshine poured in around the blinds, and as she blinked the sleep from her eyes she tried to focus on the clock. Ten.

They’d slept for eight hours, and Brit was amazed at how refreshed she felt. The emotion of the holiday and the stress of their schedule had been wearing them out, and sleep had been just what she needed. An entire day with Alex was just what she needed.

Her movements caused Alex to awaken, and Brit immediately ran her fingers through the mop of blond curls. Somehow Alex had ditched the Santa hat, but she was still adorable anyway. “Good morning,” Brit said.

Closing her eyes again, Alex smiled, just a small smile, but the peaceful look on her face told Brit how happy she was, too. “Good morning.” Then her eyes popped open. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yes, Merry Christmas,” Brit said as she snuggled closer.

“You feel so good, Brit.”

“You, too. I wish we didn’t have to move, but if I don’t pee, my bladder will explode, and if I don’t eat I really will get a migraine.”

Alex poked her in the ribs. “Well, I can’t help with the peeing, but I can make breakfast. I brought fruit and yogurt and…cheese Danishes.”

“Ummm,” Brit moaned.

Alex smiled in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Brit used the bathroom first and came into the kitchen a few minutes later to find the promised Danishes quartered and plated, yogurt in dessert bowls topped with raspberries, and the water hot in the Keurig. “Be right back,” Alex said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

She emerged dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt, and Brit was leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee. “Shall we eat on the couch? In front of the tree? It looks like Santa was here and we have presents to open.”

Brit frowned. Since the night before, she’d been dreading this moment—both telling Alex and her parents. But she had to do it, and soon. “I need to make a phone call,” she said, and from the look on her face she suspected Alex guessed the reason.

Alex sighed. “You didn’t tell them, huh?”

“I wimped out,” Brit confessed.

Alex squeezed her arm and tried for a smile. “Well, make your call, then, because I’m not letting you out of this apartment until it’s time for dinner.”

Brit dialed the phone as Alex watched. She thought of seeking privacy in the bedroom, but she wasn’t hiding from Alex. They’d always been honest with each other, and that was important to Brit. She wished she had the courage to be honest with her family. After the holidays, she’d tell them about Alex. She had to.

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” Brit said. She walked to Alex’s side and leaned against her. Brit stood so close that she was sure Alex could hear her mom’s side of the conversation.

“What time will you be here? I’d like to get the table set and relax before everyone arrives.” Mrs. Dodge asked.

“Mom, I’m not coming,” Brit said, and then she sucked in a breath. “My headache’s still pretty bad.” Alex stiffened.

Then Brit looked at Alex and winked. “I’m just going to spend the day in bed.”

Alex sniggered uncontrollably and Brit poked her in the ribs.

“Britain, I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous. You can’t be alone on Christmas Day.”

Brit ran her fingers through her hair, obviously stressed. “I think I just need a break from all the excitement, Mom. Just some down time.”

“What you need is to give up that coaching. It takes up too much of your time and it’s starting to affect your health. I’m going to make an appointment for you to see Dr. Sigmund next week.”

“Mom, Dr. Sigmund’s a pediatrician. I haven’t seen her since I was in high school. I’ll be fine. I’ll see my neurologist and get a checkup. Don’t worry about me.”

“Another ridiculous statement. How does a mother not worry about her child?”

“I’m going to take a nap now. I’ll call you later. Merry Christmas. Tell Daddy I love him and I’ll call him later.

“Glad that’s over.” Brit exhaled a loud sigh, disconnected the call, and stepped away from Alex as she placed the phone on the counter.

“Me, too. I’m sorry you have to lie to them.”

“I have to tell them soon, Alex. They’re going to run into your parents at one of our games. Like maybe tomorrow.”

“My parents won’t say anything, Brit.”

“Maybe not intentionally…”

“No, they won’t say anything at all. They know you’re not out.”

“You told them?” Brit asked, and Alex heard the edge in her voice.

Alex nodded, and then explained. “My mom wanted to invite your family over after one of the games, since they live so close to the school and your family is so far away. I had to say something, and I thought the truth was best.”

Brit nodded. “So what did your mom say?”

“Something distasteful about your parents, although I don’t feel at liberty to repeat the exact words.”

Brit laughed and hugged Alex. “I wish I knew. I’ve been sweating about the holiday tournament.”

“Well, now there’s no worries.”

“Thank you.”

They carried their feast into the living room, turned on the tree lights, and devoured everything.

“I want to give you your presents and then watch
It’s a Wonderful Life,
” Brit said.

“And I want to watch
A
Christmas Story
,” Alex said. “And make love. And take a shower with you. And then eat a very quick dinner at my parents’ house and then come right back here and make love again.”

Alex was concentrating on breakfast, but noticing a lull in the conversation, she looked up and met Brit’s gaze. “What?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? How compatible we are in bed?”

Alex wanted to tell her just how much she agreed, but she always hesitated to discuss sex in general. Sex in particular, the moments they shared and the things they did—those were easy to talk about. But the generalizations might open the doorway to what had been an uncomfortable issue for them since Anke. Alex was afraid to reference other women, or allude to any others, or compare Brit to them, for even though her sexual connection with Brit was the most amazing one she’d ever had, she couldn’t tell her that without reminding her that there had been many others before her. So she kept her answer simple. “Yes.”

“I never imagined it could be like this.”

And then she didn’t need to measure her words, for this reply was so much easier than the last. “Neither did I.”

Their gaze never wavered, even as Brit set the mug down on the coffee table and slid across the couch, into Alex’s arms. Alex looked up at her, fighting the urge to push her back on the coach and devour her. Instead, she sat quietly as Brit kissed the top of her head, then her eyelids, and finally her lips. She pulled Brit closer and sunk deeper into the couch, with Brit snuggled in her arms. “I love you,” Brit whispered, and they held each other, and Alex could see and hear and feel only Brit, and it was perfect.

“Do you want a present?” Brit asked a few minutes later.

Alex’s answer evoked a laugh. “Yes, please.”

As Brit slipped from her lap, Alex stood as well and walked to the tree to retrieve several beautifully wrapped boxes. The first was small, the second medium, and the third huge. She’d wrapped them in shiny silver paper and topped each with red bows. Brit returned from the bedroom with a handful of boxes and placed them on the table.

“Three presents each. Perfect. I wanna go first,” Brit informed Alex.

“’Kay,” Alex answered and handed her the smallest package.

“I want the big one,” Brit said.

“Best for last.”

So Brit opened the small box and found a pair of silver snowflake earrings. “They’re perfect,” she said as she slid the stems through the holes in her lobes.

“You next.” She handed Alex the medium package, wrapped in blue snowman paper with a big blue-and-white bow.

Just like Brit, Alex was methodical and deliberate, unsealing the tape that closed the paper and then sliding the box out. It was a Converse box, and Alex smiled as she pulled off the lid. Classic black Chuck Taylor high-tops. “They’re perfect.”

Brit beamed. “Glad you like them. Okay, now my turn,” she announced, and grabbed the big box.

“No, no, no, Britain! The medium box is next.”

Brit picked it up, seeming startled by its weight. Or lack thereof. She shook it and looked suspiciously in Alex’s direction.

“Go ahead, open it.”

Brit opened the paper to reveal a shoe box. Flinging the lid to the floor, Brit sifted through the tissue paper, red and green and white for Christmas, and found a red envelope. It wasn’t sealed, and she reached inside and pulled out two tickets. Alex watched her closely as she read them and saw the excitement on her face as it registered.

“
Kinky Boots
!” she yelled, and jumped up to hug Alex. “When? When are we going?” she asked, and then she studied the tickets, finding the information before Alex could tell her. “Oh, wow. Sunday! We’re going on Sunday!” she yelled as she kissed Alex. “This is so perfect, Alex. This is the best present ever.”

Alex had been bursting with excitement from the day she ordered the tickets, right after the first time they’d made love.

“You are such a better shopper than me, Alex. You got me
Kinky Boots
tickets and I got you sneakers. How lame.”

“I love my sneakers. Don’t knock ’em. And speaking of presents, umm, don’t I get two more?”

Brit beamed again. “As a matter of fact you do,” she said and handed Alex another gift, this one a bit smaller than the last. Again, Alex fastidiously peeled the paper to reveal the Disney logo on a small, black box. Flipping up the lid, she looked inside. A watch, with multiple changeable bands—leather, gold, silver—and Mickey Mouse on the face.

“So you’ll never forget our first kiss.”

“How could I ever forget it?” she asked and leaned over as their lips met in a soft, tender kiss filled with all of Alex’s love. “This is beautiful,” she said, turning back to the watch. “Thanks.”

Brit smiled. “I’m glad you like it. Now I want my big present.”

Alex pretended to struggle with the weight of it, but it was just as light as the other box. Brit pursed her lips, and this time she tore off the paper to reveal a U-Haul box. Impatiently, she shifted through tissue paper to find an envelope. Inside was a reservation for a hotel in New York City, and Alex watched another smile form on Brit’s face, and then Brit raised her face to look at Alex.

“We’re going to New York!” Brit danced around Alex and then pushed her onto the floor and kissed her passionately.

“I guess you like your presents, huh?”

“I do.” Brit would have been happy with nothing more than a special day at home with Alex, but the gifts were truly perfect. She was so happy to have Alex in her life, as her lover, to be sharing Christmas morning with her, that she felt as if she would burst from joy. Full of energy, she jumped up. “Let me give you one present, and then I’m taking you back to bed.” Brit handed Alex the largest of the boxes, and she was startled by its weight. Brit’s present had been big but light, and though hers was small by comparison, it was quite heavy.

The paper gave way to a plain cardboard box, stuffed with packing peanuts. Within, wrapped in a layer of protective foam, Alex found a marble statue, eighteen inches high. It was a winged, headless, armless form with curves and breasts that were unmistakably feminine. Alex studied it, turning it over and over before finally placing it on the table. The details were remarkable, from the feathered wings to the lines of her flowing robes. “She’s beautiful,” she said at last.

“Do you know who she is?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Alex chuckled.

“It’s Nike. This is a replica of a statue at the Louvre called
Nike of Samothrace.
It’s Greek, and the original is over two thousand years old. She reminds me of you.”

Alex studied the statue again, overwhelmed by emotion she couldn’t explain. It probably had something to do with the novelty of the gift and how much thought had gone into it, or perhaps because she was so much in love. As if reading her mind, Brit stood and offered Alex her hand.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

Alex accepted the hand and followed Brit to the bedroom, and after they made love again, they turned on the television and cuddled up together in Brit’s bed, watching movies. All of the pillows in the apartment were piled behind them, and the blankets were pulled all the way up as George Bailey and Clarence wandered around Bedford Falls in a blizzard.

“What was that noise?” Alex asked, sitting up and turning her head toward the door leading to the living room.

“Huh?” Brit asked. She’d been paying attention to the movie and didn’t catch Alex’s words.

“I thought I heard something,” Alex said.

She turned her gaze from the television to the doorway just in time to see a well-dressed woman appear there, perfectly turned out with the exception of the expression of shock on her face.

Brit sat up, equally surprised. The fact that she was nearly naked didn’t occur to her until she saw her mother looking at the pile of clothing still on the floor from the night before. “Mom. Hi,” Brit said, trying to keep her vocal cords from trembling as she spoke.