Wednesday, December 10, 2008

The Magic of Mistletoe...unrealized...

Okay, after an intense in-the-cave editing of Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ coming from Siren-BookStrand ~ I was in the mood to pen a light-hearted piece in celebration of the holiday season. A scene popped into my mind immediately, one that was partially inspired by Eartha Kitt singing Santa, I thought I’d give the gift that keeps on giving to me as I write it, one 500 word flash at a time.
Warning: Rated Sizzle so far...


Santa Baby, Waitin’ Just for You...

Part One ~

Rarely reckless, Kaily flung off the negligee she’d first thought to wear. It landed in a red ephemeral heap beside the tastefully trimmed Christmas tree. So what if she’d just broken into his house...well, she hadn’t exactly broken in...more like she spied on him until she found out where he hid the extra key...lodged in a crack of the frame above the door of the Victorian mansion he’d resurrected, and obviously treasured.
The only thing amiss in the traditional holiday atmosphere he’d created with the help of the town’s local historical club, had been a long waving sash of garish red ribbon with a simple bow attached to one end. It certainly didn’t belong on the floor as a decoration, and she couldn’t see anywhere else it did belong...except wrapped around her. Since she was giving herself to him as a gift for Christmas...well, why not?
Wildly inspired, she arranged the ribbon around her naked body...naked except for a gold ankle bracelet, her *I want to seduce you earrings* and a whimsical pair of faux-fur trimmed santa boots. If he was gay he might just chuckle *ho ho ho*, and turn it all into a joke. If he wasn’t gay, but didn’t want to take what she was offering, he could have a holly jolly laugh at her expense, and politely show her the door.
It was too true, her curiosity raged out of control, even causing her sleepless nights. He’d sauntered into her small town last December, paid cash for the dilapidated but proud old Victorian, then set about restoring with a vengeance, while gaining the good will of everyone in town...well, almost everyone. Nessie Jones, the town’s librarian, didn’t like him. Of course, Nessie didn’t like anyone for any reason she could find. The love of her life was books and a mystery man she claimed to be married to, that no one ever saw.
Nessie always curled her lip and wrinkled her nose behind Dillon’s back, as if his deodorant had failed in its job...which might be case, since he always smelled smoky and impossibly virile to her. Which was often, since they were always running into each other, even though she did try to avoid him, because of her obsession with knowing more about him. Why make herself look like a prize-trussed fool in front of everyone by groping him with questions.
Although, she did look rather trussed up, the way the length of red ribbon was wound around her least, by what she could see from a slice of her reflection in the tall narrow mirror near the fireplace mantle.
The bow dangling from one hand, Kaily wondered if she should place it over her well-furred pussy...or maybe between the swells of ber breasts...or maybe at the top of her ample-enough cleavage.
“Ooooh...Santa baby, waitin’ just for you,” she crooned like the song, then pursed her lips in an attempt to look sexy.


Part Two ~

Kaily hung the bow between her breasts, for now. Thinking her freshly washed hair could use more of a *take me to the bedroom* look, she shook her head vigorously, then swiped her fingers through the long strands several times. “Tousled enough,” she murmured. Of course, who knew whether he liked tousled or not. He hadn’t dated any of the single women in town, four of them. He hadn’t put the moves on any of the married women, or the gossip would have burned her ears off, by now, like a flamethrower. But then, he hadn’t dated any of the men, either. The bragging would have been as flamboyant as the town’s holiday-decorated square, a blend of old-fashioned, the kid’s favorite ornaments and ostentatious purchases from the nearest Wal-Mart.
No secret affairs she could discover, either. She’d waded through the bushes several times around midnight, peeking in more than a few windows, only witnessing polite scenes centered around fixing up the Victorian, or learning more about it’s history.
His charm impeccable, Dillon had been the guest of nearly everyone in town, even her parents, who knew about the last occupants of the Victorian, having grown up with them. Kaily had swiftly made up an excuse about helping Davie with his reading lessons, then had offered to take care of Davie, so her sister and her husband could take in a movie that was labeled ‘adult’, not just pg-13 Disney. Knowing she had no further information to offer him, she’d chickened out *squawk, squawk* big time. She could just see herself, staring at him ridiculously while trying to ask leading questions like a TV prosecutor. Hell, if she’d been as talented as Alan Shore on Boston Legal, she would have given it a shot. Or, if she’d had any talent at all with subtly seducing men, which she didn’t, she would have put on her tightest, bosom-exposing cashmere sweater and her shortest decent skirt...well, that chance was long gone. No, she’d shown up just as her parents were glad-handing him on his way out the door...and as they all chuckled over ‘what’ she never knew. Giving him a bright smile, she’d nervously fiddled with her necklace, made up something about Davie’s progress, then wished him a ‘good evening’. He’d settled his gaze on her face, his unusually colored an expensive brandy she’d once sipped...had seemed interested in penetrating through her defenses. He’d asked about her latest painting. She’d blurted out it was close to being finished, and the logo company was eager to start printing up t-shirts. Somehow she found herself walking beside him to his stunning reproduction roadster. To her shame she knew the sound of his engine better than her own. He’d hesitated as if he were about to ask her something, before sliding onto the seat. His powerful grace had reminded her of an African lion on the hunt...
Hearing the distinct purr of his roadster turning onto the drive, Kaily froze.


Part Three ~

Hearing another car pull up behind him, Kaily shrieked inside. Oh no! Her heart on speed dial she moved as fast as the ribbon’s constriction would allow, then plucked the drape aside, just enough to peek out the side window. Oh, that so figured. Barbie Nelson, dressed in her skimpy elf’s costume had him held hostage against the roadster’s door. A plate of her holiday banana bread pressed into the white fur trim of his santa suit. She was probably envisioning his hard-muscled stomach as she blabbed doubt inviting herself in for a taste of him. Omygawd...I need a place to hide if Barbie makes it inside. Where? Twisting around, she glanced around the front parlor. Damn, the only place was behind the Christmas tree, itself...and knowing her, she’d knock it over, then be standing their in the buff, gift-wrapped, in front of them both with the exquisitely decorated tree in shambles. She would have tried for another room, but he’d probably catch her as he came in, since she’d have to go through the hallway.
Trapped, Kaily shivered, peering outside again. Barbie still babbled, her face practically beneath his. Given she was a petite thing, her neck was practically at a right angle. But then, if Barbie did keep up the flirtatious chatter, maybe she could sneak inside another room...oops, too late. Dillon took hold of the plate, and made a strong move to escape, simultaneously lowering his fake beard. He gentlemanly lifted her hand to his lips and pecked a kiss. Whatever he said to her must have worked. Barbie tittered, then sashayed away. He waited until she had started her engine and pulled away before heading for the door.
Her heart threatening to leap out of her chest and her palms sweating suddenly, Kaily toddled toward the illumined tree. The faux candle flames provided a mellow golden radiance as she struggled to lie down, then arrange herself in what she hoped was a seductive pose. Feeling the bow between her breasts, she grabbed at it, her nerves skittering crazily. Not really thinking, she planted it over her pussy...maybe it was her subconscious’s last ditch effort at decency...but then, maybe he would bypass the parlor, go into another room, head up the stairs. And she would be stuck down here trying to figure out a way to leave. Omygawd, oh no, had she forgotten to lock the door...maybe he would think a burglar had robbed the place...although, that was such a rarity, no one could recall when it last occurred.
His footsteps bounded upward toward the door, as if he were impatient to get inside. Kaily’s rapid breaths stuck in her throat. Omygawd...omygawd, what was she doing?
And too bad she couldn’t say something whispery sexy like Marilyn Monroe...Happy Holidays, Mr. Santa Claus...give him that pouty look of you see anything under the tree you want to unwrap?
The door swung open. He entered...


Baby, it’s cold outside...

Part Four ~

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” she whispered. The cold drift of air from the open door shivered her body momentarily. Feeling her nipples pucker and harden, Kaily glanced down. Maybe, he would think she was real glad to see him, since her nipples stood at attention like toy soldiers. Damnit, she hated being cold. But, it wasn’t like she could reach for her down comforter. Heckfire, the tree skirt was nothing more than shimmery white gauze.
Closing the door firmly, he stomped the crust of snow off his santa boots onto the entry rug. He’d cleared his driveway immaculately, but the park where he’d played Santa for the town’s children would have meant tromping through the six inches of snow that had fallen the day before. The drifting fat snowflakes had been a picture perfect scene for a white Christmas. Drinking cocoa, Kaily enjoyed it immensely while plotting out her daring escapade...certainly daring for her.
In the following silence, Kaily swore, it felt like a bowling ball landed on her mid-section. What was he doing? Did he somehow realize she was here? She’d been sneaky enough to walk most of the way as if out for a bracing wake-me-up stroll, which she often did when working on a long art project. Then she’d snuck between several houses, staying in the twilight shadows until she reached his back door. Only after making certain no one’s lights were on, did she make her way to the front door.
She swallowed, her mouth and throat drier than if she’d been wandering lost in the desert. What? Had she left a telltale strand of hair. Or left a mark from her own winter boot...
His steps so quiet, she barely heard them, he finally approached the arched opening into the parlor. Her eyelids squeezed together so hard she knew she couldn’t open them, unless by a Christmas miracle. If it was censure in his gaze, she didn’t want to see it, especially since he was dressed as Santa Clause. Even Nessie had directed him in what books and movies to watch as preparation, so he could portray jolly St. Nick himself.
Oh God, why didn’t he speak? Say ‘get dressed and get out’? Or...
“Is this a holiday tradition I’m not aware of?” The deep timbre of his voice covered her like velvet, but did little to warm her, she was so frightened...much more than she bargained for.
Her eyes popped open as if she’d just received her Christmas miracle. He leaned, not casually, against the archway frame, his arms folded like some damn arrogant king who observed her from afar. It struck her odd in the next instant that he actually expected a real answer to his question.
Where it came from she’d never know...but in the following moment she heard herself croon... “Santa baby, waitin’ just for you.”
Something flashed in his eyes, white-hot as lightning. His gaze covered her body like his voice, making her insides icy fire.


Part Five ~

She watched him snatch down a generous sprig of mistletoe, a smooth fluid motion that made her gasp. As he walked toward her with that powerful languid stride that always held her attention, she sucked in a ginormous breath, clutching her belly. Okay, he wasn’t gay, if the size in his santa suit wasn’t his bag of goodies stuffed down his pants...of course, maybe it was goodie-filled. Kaily felt her eyes widen like the O-rings she used in her craft projects, before her gaze flew back up to his face. The golden flare in his eyes immobilized her like a deer in headlights...yep, his gaze looked like brandy set on fire, flambe’ style. Frightened, she quivered and felt the edges of the wide ribbon cut into her skin. Halting, he stared down at her. Kaily swore his gaze feasted on her like she was his personal holiday banquet. Before she shut her eyes, that is. Omygawd...the image of his manhood didn’t dance like sugarplums in her head. No, it towered like a damn chimney.
“Gift-wrapped,” he rasped. “This is definitely a worthy holiday.”
Kaily popped one eye open at his unusual statement. Not to mention the strange lilt to his voice, a masculine sound that reminded her of a Scottish bur.
“Worthy holiday,” she murmured. She should grill him like a steak at a backyard cookout, and shake on the spice rub if he didn’t cooperate. She’d even rehearsed the questions while pretending to be a super-powered lawyer on Boston Legal. But her body hadn’t been tingly deliciously aware of him then, nor naked.
He lowered himself beside her, his virile scent overriding the moth-balled santa suit. Lying down parallel to her with the latent power of a big cat, he propped himself up, dangling the fresh mistletoe above her head.
He’s going to kiss me, she thought. Her senses reeled as if drunk on too much egg nog, while her body tensed in anticipation and panic. It was now or never. “Where are you from?” she whispered, her voice like Marilyn Monroe in Some Like it Hot.
“The North Pole.” He didn’t miss a beat, and his roughened tone rubbed directly on her nipples.
Kaily gave a tiny moan as her head tipped back.
“Let’s see if the magic of mistletoe works?” he growled softly.
“Magic of mistletoe...” God help her, she did want the magic of mistletoe. Who knew he could be so utterly seductive? The only face he’d presented to everyone was one of friendliness and an avid interest in whatever anyone spoke about. She’d never seen him really truly flirt.
“Kaily.” Her name flowed from his lips in a way she’d never heard, thick and warm as honey, yet potent with his sexuality.
“I guess you’re not gay,” she inanely murmured, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Why ruin this moment?
The even strength of his breaths paused. “Gay as in the holiday spirit? Or gay as in a preference for my own gender?”


For the rest of the story as it pops down the chimney of my imagination check out ~ ~


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~


Evonne Wareham said...

Well that's one take on Santa Baby I haven't heard before.

Savanna Kougar said...

Evonne, I hope it wasn't too much of a 'take'...