Some
of you may have wondered if I can write anything that doesn’t
include full-out, graphic sex. So for today, instead of “Sizzling Sunday”,
I’ve got a “Sweet Sunday” vignette for you—
a brief taste of romance that promises happily ever after.
Meanwhile,
I want to wish every one who reads this the very best of everything
in the upcoming year: love, laughter, good health and prosperity.
Blessings to you all!
A
Kiss at Midnight
It
wasn't deliberate, or what she'd expected.
Laura
had actually planned to leave around eleven. She had to work
tomorrow; hospitals didn't close for New Year's Day. The one glass of
wine she allowed herself was long gone. She was exhausted from last
night's shift. Her jaw ached from the constant smiling. She really
didn't want to hear any more about Jill's and Howie's upcoming trip
to Jamaica, or Martha's promotion, or Reese's engagement. All that
Laura had to look forward to was curling up in the new quilt Mom has
sent for Christmas, with a paperback mystery and her plump tabby
Morris for company.
She'd
made moves toward the bedroom where the coats were piled, but Gretch
had intercepted her and begged her to stay. Gretchen was her best
friend. Laura felt guilty refusing. She accepted a plastic glass of
champagne and stood by the window, watching the drifting snow. Most
of Gretchen's guests huddled around the TV, counting down with the
broadcaster in Times Square.
Huge
flakes swirled lazily like feathers from giant down pillow. She hoped
that she'd be able to get a cab. Without thinking, she sipped at the
effervescent liquid in her hand. It was chill and sweet on her
tongue.
"Five.
Four. Three. Two. One..." came the chant from the rest of the
crowd. Laura barely heard them.
She
felt his presence behind her an instant before he laid a firm hand on
her shoulder and turned her around. She had a confused impression of
worn plaid flannel and tousled brown hair as he gathered her to his
chest and brought his face to hers.
His
mouth was silky and strong and tasted like champagne. His brazen
tongue played along the seam of her closed lips, teasing her into
opening. A rush of heat flooded her when he entered, turning her
earlobes and her nipples to burning coals. The air seemed to leave
her lungs, sucked out by his energetic kiss. She staggered against
him, suddenly dizzy. He held her closer, one bold hand cupping her
buttocks while the other supported her under her arms.
He
delved deeper, fanning the flames that whipped through her body.
Between her legs, under her tights, she was melting. His scent rose
around her, cherry pipe tobacco and old-fashioned lavender cologne.
She ventured a tentative hand up his back and felt solid muscle move
beneath his shirt. His fingertips grazed the side of her breast. A
spark shot from her nipples down to her sex. She gasped into his
mouth and he swallowed the small sound, kissing her harder.
Laura
lost herself in the velvet darkness behind her closed eyelids. She
didn't want to break the spell. She relaxed into his arms, letting
him explore her body as though they were completely alone. Rigidness
pressed against her belly, kindling a drunken sense of triumph. He
was as aroused as she was.
The
kiss lasted for hours. One moment he nibbled delicately as her lips.
The next, he forced her wide and plundered her mouth, grinding his
thigh against her crotch all the while. Champagne bubbles had found
their way into her blood. She felt bouyant, giggly, light as air.
Finally
he released her. "Happy New Year," the stranger murmured
into her ear, nuzzling her throat wetly. Laura gazed up at dark eyes
brimming with laughter and intelligence. She realized that she was
trembling.
"Do
I know you?" His face was vaguely familiar, but the rich
baritone voice was completely new.
"You
do now," he said with a grin. He raised his champagne glass to
her in a silent toast, then took a sip. "I'm Dan. Gretchen's
brother. And you're Laura, right?"
"Um--right."
Laura felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Did Gretchen put
you up to this?"
She
forced herself to move away from him, even though what she really
wanted was to throw herself back into his arms.
"Put
me up to what?" Dan raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. "It's
midnight on New Year's. You're supposed to kiss the person standing
next to you."
Laura
looked around. Sure enough, lots of couples were locked in heated
embraces. She would have sworn that Dan's kiss had taken hours, but
clearly it was only moments after midnight.
"Hm--well--thank
you." Her still-taut nipples pressed against her sweater. She
was sure that Dan could see them. She took another step backward and
was acutely aware of how damp her panties had become. "I've got
to go home now. Happy New Year."
"Wait!"
He grabbed her hand. His strength was obvious. Laura wished she could
melt into the floor.
"Don't
go yet. It's early." He searched her face and she saw doubt in
his eyes for the first time. "Unless
there's someone waiting for you...someone else...a lover..."
Laura's
resistance fluttered away like the snowflakes outside. "No,
there's no one waiting for me--except my cat. I don't have a lover."
Dan's
relief was obvious. He circled her waist and pulled her against him.
"Now you do."
His
lips claimed hers once more. Laura knew it was going to be a good
year.
