Chapter 8
eight
Deca
Dane has me lay sideways on the bed with my butt at the very edge of the mattress.
Then he falls to his knees between my legs and slowly removes the stockings, kissing each inch of skin on my inner leg that he exposes.
He’s careful with my sore ankle. I’m wound so tight I don’t think any pain can reach through my senses.
“Ankle looks good. But you still need to not use it so much. You need to take care of you.”
“Dane… stop talking.”
“Now who’s being bossy? Tell me then, babe. What should I do with my mouth?”
“Make me come.”
“How many times?”
“How many… what?”
“Tell me how many orgasms you’d like tonight.”
That’s an embarrassing question and I’m not sure how to answer it. Until last night I’d never experienced more than one during a sexual encounter. Asking for two again? That might be pushing my luck. “Uh, one?”
“Nope, not enough.” He strokes his fingers along my inner thighs and over the pooch of my lower abdomen, avoiding where I need him so badly. “I think we should aim for at least three. It’s early. The winter nights are long. So, yeah. Three. How’s that sound, babe?”
“Good. I think.”
“You don’t need to think. Just feel and experience.” He lifts my legs over his shoulders and slides me even closer to the edge, spreading my folds to expose me. He stares for a long time then lifts his gaze to mine. “You are so beautiful.”
His mouth on me makes me feel the truth of his words. At least for him. I don’t need to be beautiful for anyone else. Only him.
Using his mouth and his fingers, he’s relentless, bringing me almost to a release then pulling me back. Each time he presses a hand below my navel and praises me. I try to talk, to argue, to beg him to finish me but I’m so tightly wound my words have become incoherent sighs and pleas.
“Are you ready for number one, my sweet December?”
“Yes,” I manage. “Please, oh… please… let me, make me…”
“Come,” he says, then with his fingers moving against my inner walls, he sucks hard on my clit.
I arch from the bed with a keen of release. I crush the bedding in my fists and arch again as a second wave pours over me. Dane holds me steady and licks at my entrance, humming approval.
When I think my voice will work I stroke his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
He lifts his head. Moisture sparkles in his short beard and his tongue glides over his lips. “Oh, but I do. I’m addicted to you. To the way you taste. Don’t deny me, please.”
“I would never. It’s just…” I don’t know if I should say this or not.
Dane speaks instead. “No one has ever told you how delicious you are, have they? Damn fools. But, that’s good for me. Because I could eat you every day for the rest of my life.”
He pauses then untangles himself from under my legs and after encouraging me to reposition myself leaning against the headboard, sits next to me.
He takes my hand and plays with my fingers.
“I mean what I say, December. Every day. The rest of my life. I don’t know how it’s possible but I’ve fallen for you. Fallen in love.”
He loves me? I close my eyes and breathe a silent prayer of thanks to the universe. This—the love of a good man is what I’ve tried to manifest.
“Deca, babe, I love you. I don’t expect for you to feel the same way. A couple days isn’t a logical amount of time to feel emotionally bound to another person. I can’t believe I’m the one defying logic. What have you done to me, my solstice dancer?”
“I didn’t mean… oh, Dane. You’re who I thought I’d never find. I’m sometimes too impulsive—”
“You, impulsive?” He laughs and the tension, the fear of doing the wrong thing melts away. “I think that’s one of the things I love about you.”
“And I love how I feel more grounded around you. I don’t feel quite so scattered or hopeless. Yes, two days is fast, but not necessarily for me. I think I fell in love with you when you took care of me, wrapped my ankle.”
His expression is filled with tentative hope. I run the back of my fingers along his bearded jaw. “To put it as plain and simple as I can… Dane, I love you.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few condoms. “Want to celebrate our love, my sweet December?”
We do. Long and slow. Fast and satisfying. All night long.
The next day is Christmas eve and while Dane takes care of things for the lodge, I ask one of the staff to bring me a small case from the trunk of my car.
I rush through my project, finishing up wrapping the gift only minutes before he returns to the room.
He sheds his suit coat and sinks onto the couch.
“I see you’ve visited the gift shop,” he says after studying my outfit of leggings and a lodge sweat shirt.
“I really need to go get my clothes from my hotel.”
“You’re staying in a hotel? Oh no, babe. Where? I’ll have someone go get your stuff.”
“Okay. That would be great.”
“Speaking of hotels… are you okay with spending Christmas here with me?”
“Do you have to be here tomorrow?”
“No, not really. There’s plenty of staff to cover. And before you say anything, yes, those who work on Christmas get special pay and a couple extra days off.”
“That’s good.” I sit close to him and rest my head against his shoulder. He wraps both arms around me. This is where I belong. “What I’d really like to do is go back to the cabin today and spend tomorrow there. Just you and me.”
“I was hoping to convince you that was a good idea. Especially since the chef is already planning on packing up special meals for us to take back with us. And you do not want to make a chef angry.”
I rise to my knees to plant kisses all over his face. “Perfect.”
By mid afternoon we’re ready to return to his peaceful cabin. When the bellhop brings the ATV to the doors, there’s a tiny trailer attached that contains our holiday meals. And there’s two helmets.
Our trip is uneventful, although we stop a couple times so I can gather some fallen pine and fir branches to do a little decorating. If nothing else, I found popcorn in the kitchen when I was snooping. We can pop some and string it through the greenery.
That evening, we sprawl on the floor in front of the decorated fireplace, nibbling on unstrung popcorn and enjoying a couple beers. We’ve talked ourselves to a comfortable silence. This is how our lives, our future could be. I’m so happy.
“I’ll be right back.” Dane rises and disappears for a couple minutes then returns with a small package wrapped in Santa decorated paper. “My family always did gifts on Christmas eve. Merry Christmas, December.”
My gift for him is easier to get to—I’d hidden it in the side table drawer. “Mine, too,” I say as I retrieve the package and hand it to the love of my life.
“It’s not much. There wasn’t any shopping time. Not that I’m a good gift shopper anyway.” Dane holds out his present. “If you don’t like it—”
“Stop worrying, dear heart. Who’s going to open first?”
“You.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I’m a careful unwrapper and know Dane’s impatient while I slowly pull the tape away from the paper. There’s an adhesive backed bow that I remove and stick onto my hair. “Tradition,” I explain at his questioning expression.
Soon a velvet jewelry box rests in my hand. Inside I find a pine tree brooch created by loops of wrapped green and brown wires. At the top and slightly to one side is a circle of silver wires. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’ve seen this in the gift shop many times and never thought much about it. Until you. Now this will always remind me of the night you danced under the moonlight and right into my heart.”
My heart feels like it’s going to burst. “I love it. Thank you. Now, open yours.”
He’s not so careful and soon exposes a plain white box.
He glances from the box to me and back to the box as he removes the lid.
Lifting the dark purple silk bag I’d sewn together that afternoon, he grins.
“My own crystal bag?” Pulling open the drawstring, he dumps the single stone into his palm then holds it up to the firelight. “What’s this?”
The fire casts sparkling light over the deep red stone. “A garnet. It’s used for protection, good luck, and… passion.”
He pulls me close for a kiss. “I don’t think the passion is going to be a problem, babe.”
“Probably not.”
“Will you help me choose—shit, I can’t believe I’m saying this—will you help me choose additional stones for my bag?”
“I will. And maybe…”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe next time you’ll join me in dancing naked under the full moon.”