Chapter 66

Thank God it’s Friday!

Between the hectic pace of year-end business at work and her relationship drama with Jon, Rachel couldn’t remember the last time she’d put in such an exhausting week.   Fortunately, it was over and they were slated to spend the weekend in the city.  The change of scenery would probably do them good. 

With a wave to the doorman, Rachel crossed the lobby over to the elevator of Jon’s building, inserting the key that would allow her to access the top floors.   Stepping into the penthouse foyer, she rounded the corner to find Jon standing in the kitchen eating peanut butter out of the jar.  A wide grin bloomed on his face the minute he saw her.

“Jesus, woman!  Just walk in here like you own the place.”

“Before you know it, I’ll have taken over the closet.”  She stepped into his open arms and wrapped both of hers around his waist, planting a soft kiss on his neck before pulling back to look at him suspiciously.  “Peanut butter, huh?  It’s probably all you can afford after the mortgage payments are made every month.  Are you after me for my money?”

“No, I’m after you for you cooking abilities, mostly.”  Jon gave a half-hearted slap to her rear end and replaced the lid to the peanut butter jar.  “I’m starving.  Let’s go grab some dinner and pick up a Christmas tree.”

“Wow… The first night using my new key and your only thought is food.  Is the honeymoon over completely?”

“Yes!  You've worn my dick out and my only interest tonight is food, so get your tight little ass into some jeans and feed me.  I put your bag in the closet when I got here earlier.   Oh!  Make sure you bring your wallet - you’re buying dinner.”

Leaving Jon to uncork a bottle of wine while she made her way to the master bedroom, Rachel was struck by how relaxed things felt between the two of them again.  Coming home to him tonight was the most natural thing in the world after the draining week  she was looking forward to a peaceful evening with just the two of them.

Stepping into the dressing area, she found an entire section had been emptied out, presumably for her clothes and smiled appreciatively.  Turning her head, she found that a white box tied with dark green ribbon was waiting on the marbled island.  The notecard on top was addressed simply:  “RB”. 

Her smile grew wider and opening the envelope, she skimmed the card inside that read, “Bring on the Christmas spirit!  Love you, JB”

She untied the bow and lifted the shiny, white lid off the box to find the most exquisite red bra and panty set she’d ever laid eyes on.   It was made of lace and satin, decorated with embroidered flowers containing just a hint of black to accentuate the Christmassy red.   She smiled as her fingers trailed over the decadent lingerie and felt Jon come up behind her.  

He set two glasses of wine on the island and chinned the hair off her neck, whispering, “Wear them tonight.  I wanna spend the whole evening imagining what you’ll look like when I take them off you later.” 

Gulp.

She felt like a hundred butterflies had been turned loose in her stomach by his words and the visual that came with them.   Every hair on her arms stood up and a shiver ran down her spine.  ‘Turned on’ didn’t begin to describe what he’d just made her feel.  

She allowed his arms around her waist to pull her back against him, so distracted with desire she could barely form a coherent sentence.   “Maybe you should help me put them on.”

“Love that…. It’ll  be hotter than anything I could ever imagine.”

Arms slithered up to wrap around his neck and eager breasts jutted forward as he began to unbutton her blouse.  They watched each other in the wall of mirrors in the dressing area, saying nothing as Jon removed her clothes piece… by… piece…. until the writhing body molded to the front of his was completely naked. 

He bent her slightly at the waist, lifting her right foot from the floor and pointing it through the leg band of the red panties. The same stimulating motion was repeated with the left leg and the satin was tortuously dragged inch-by-inch up her quivering legs until there was nowhere else to go.  Once  in position, a calloused fingertip traced the barest edge of the lace waistband and then drifted lazily up the plane of her abdomen, all the while never taking his eyes off of her mirrored reflection.

He slipped the straps of the matching bra over her arms in a similar fashion – first the left, then the right.  Pushing her torso forward, he held the intricately adorned cups guiding her breasts into them.  The edge of the bra caught her swollen nipple as he secured the fleshy globes,  taking great care to make sure they were plumped ‘just so’ before clasping the front.   

She could feel the beginning of an erection dig into her back as he straightened her and dipped a fingertip into the lacy cup, scraping it across that same throbbing nipple.   Biting her lip, she watched him with rapt fascination as his eyelids slowly descended and held there while his head tipped slightly back.  A sharp intake of breath confirmed that he was finding the whole scene every bit as erotic as she was.

Just as she began to press into him, he slowly released her, making eye contact again in the mirror. 

“Beautiful.”  Jon brushed the flyaway hair from her face and kissed her softly on the back of her head.  “But I think I should let you finish dressing on your own.”

Rachel could barely breathe or think, let alone speak, and all she could offer was a hoarsely whispered, “Coward.”

“Nah… Nothing cowardly about me, baby.  I just don't intend for anything to derail the evening I have planned for us.”  He twirled her away from the reflection to face the real flesh-and-blood man, who was wearing the most arrogant smile.   “It begins with us picking out a Christmas tree and ends with you sprawled out in front of it.  With all sorts of fun stuff in between.”   Both hands cradled her face and he leaned in to brush his lips across hers.  When  she made a move to press closer,  he retreated with a chastising shake of his head.    “Nuh uh.  You'll get your new panties alllll wet.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While they shopped the corner tree lot, Jon realized Rachel was a Christmas FREAK.  She literally wanted to see every tree on the place and threatened to walk the three blocks to the next one. 

“I love the way they smell when they're just a big green bush, but the ones with the snow on them are so pretty.  Whaddaya think, babe?  Flocked or not?”

Jon was ever-so-grateful for the tequila tasting they’d indulged in while waiting for dinner.   It hadn’t lessened his need for Rachel to be writhing all over him, but it had knocked the edge off his impatience  with her child-like glee of all things green and pine-y. 

“I think the same thing I thought seventeen trees ago.  It’s a fuckin’ Christmas tree… by the time you get it decorated it won’t matter.”

“Well, Mr. Bah Humbug, this is for your house.  What kind of tree do you like?”

He very nearly lurched at her from two trees away before hissing into her ear, “My sole interest in this tree is how you’re going to look under it.”

“Alright then, if that’s how you want to play…. Which do you want to see in that flash of light just before you come?  Flocked or not?”

Lord, God, Jesus…

Images of Rachel in raging sexual mode raced through his mind.  Every wild moment they’d ever shared was replayed in his head and he somehow knew tonight would top them all…  If he could ever get her to make a fucking decision on the little green monster she had her heart set on decorating tonight.

 

“In the visual that just flashed through my brain, it was flocked.  And your red panties were hanging off a limb.”  Squaring his jaw, he nodded resolutely.  “Flocked.  Definitely flocked.  With red ornaments all over it.”

She beamed at him like a proud mama.  “See?  You do have an opinion.”

The tree was wrapped and Phil, Jon’s driver, was tying it to the top of the SUV.  It would be delivered to the SoHo apartment along with lights, red ornaments and a few other assorted decorations they’d picked up at the corner drug store. 

Even though it was cold, the night air was refreshing enough to enjoy walking the elaborately decorated streets.   They were closing in on the Mercer Street address and his ultimate objective of ridding her of all those obnoxious layers of clothes when the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies detoured her into the local bakery, much to his impatient chagrin. 

As soon as they walked in the door of the penthouse, Jon’s naked plans were thwarted once again – this time by the scent of pine.  Rachel was just like a kid in the proverbial candy store and couldn’t wait to start in on that damnable tree. 

The comical process of stringing lights left Jon bordering on irritable until he caught a glimpse of Rachel’s amused face.  She looked to be as entertained as any front-row pit fan had ever been.

“You don’t DO this kind of manual labor much, do you, Rock Star?”

“THIS is my penance.  Remember it the next time you think I’m being a dick.”

“Hmm… That probably won’t be long if I know you.”

A faux stink-eye was thrown Rachel’s way as Jon crawled out from under the tree to power up the lights.  “Alright – let’s plug this bad boy in and see what we’ve got.”

The tree magically lit up with a glow only surpassed by Rachel’s.  She applauded like a well-trained seal and effusively praised his efforts.  “Aww… you did it, baby.  You hung a million lights and rocked ‘em all!!!”

“Pathetic…I mean, really… THAT was pathetic.”  Jon couldn’t help but laugh.  She was happy and he’d made her that way.

It’s about fucking time, asshole!

“Tinsel??? Did you buy this?”

Jon looked up to see Rachel wearing a Santa hat with “Naughty” written on the brim.  When she turned away to reach into the bag and retrieve the second box of contraband tinsel he’d slipped in, unbeknownst to her, he saw “Nice” was written on the back.

He lifted up his chin in defiance, “I most certainly did.  I like tinsel.”

“You’re completely destroying your cool factor with the tinsel.”

Satisfied that the tree was centered and straight, he joined Rachel in the kitchen, patting her butt as he stepped beside her.  “I’ve looked at a hundred trees with you tonight….I want the tinsel.  Not up for negotiation.”  He puckered his lips and kissed her before she could argue.  “Besides…I have a special ornament I want you to hang first.”

In the drawer of the sofa table, Jon retrieved a square box and offered it to her.  “A little something for you, my love… to hang on the tree.”

It contained a round, glass ornament with a picture of the two of them taken last summer in the Hamptons.  The photo had been snapped by paparazzi as they were leaving the party on her first night there and as such, had been heavily passed around in the press.  In spite of that, it was an excellent shot, capturing a very natural exchange of laughter between them and the obvious joy of their newfound lust. 

“You’re just full of presents tonight.  Thank you,” she said, eyes glowing at the ornament dangling from her fingertip. “I love this.”

“Good!  Because I had several more made.  One for each of our places in Jersey, and one for your tree in California.”

“Nice touch.  And speaking of California, I happen to have a little something for you, too.”

He took the small, lightweight gift bag Rachel offered and pulled out the tissue paper protruding from the top of the bag.  Inside were what appeared to be two house keys,  dangling from red, satin ribbons.  Like Jon’s keys to her, they were engraved - one with “W” and the other “NW”.  

“I noticed the keys you gave me were marked ‘N’, ‘S’, ‘E’  so I thought ‘W’ was appropriate for my house in California – West, get it???”

“I get it, but what about ‘NW’? “

“I like to think of my place in Jersey as “Navesink West”.  It works for me.  Besides, I won’t be there forever anyway.”

“Wow….   My own key?  Gosh, Miss Braden, you must like me a LOT, huh?”

“You’re okay, I guess.”

Jon’s arm suddenly encircled her waist and the gentle tug that accompanied it found Rachel face to face with him.  He playfully tapped her nose with the white pom-pom from the Santa hat that he’d taken from her and placed on his own head. 

“Why don’t you c’mere and sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you want for Christmas, little girl.”

Her roll of the eyes was matched with her dry, “I don’t think Santa is supposed to look at my boobs when he’s asking me what I want for Christmas.”

“But they’re right in Santa’s face.  And if you put boobs in any man’s face, even Santa’s, we look at them.  And then… all we can think about is seeing them.  And touching them.  And licking them.”  Jon shook his head like a wet dog ridding itself of excess water.  “Sorry.  I got lost in the teenage boy-dom of boobs…You were telling me about your Christmas wish list.”

Her sexily whispered response was enough to make his pants uncomfortable. “Will Santa make sure I get what I want?”

“Depends on what you want.  If you want a new BMW, Santa can probably make that happen.  If you want something that needs to be fed, burped and changed… that’s another story.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got the memo.” Rachel rose from his lap and handed him another box of ornaments.  “Can we concentrate on the tree, please?  You’re hanging these ornaments haphazardly.”

“HEY!  I’m doing the best I can on this decorating thing, and by the way, you haven't asked for my Christmas list!”

Shrugging her shoulders, she loftily informed him, “I don’t need one.  I already have YOUR Christmas present bought and paid for.”  She pointed  to a branch on his side of the tree. “You missed a spot there.”

“How can you already have my gift when you don’t even know what I want?”

“I know YOU.”

“Is it sexually-themed?”  He adjusted the Santa hat lower onto his forehead and waggled his eyebrows, hoping like hell that it was, in fact, sexually themed. 

“Hmm… I suppose anything is possible.”

“Is it something you’re gonna wear for me?”

“I’m not playing twenty questions about Christmas presents.  Sorry.”  Rachel again pointed to the same branch that Jon had still left bare. 

“Fine.  Just one hint then.”

“No.”

The shaking of Jon’s head had the white pom-pom of that silly Santa hat bouncing from one side of his head to the other.   “Rachel, honey… We’ve already established that I can drive you to heights of sexual ecstasy that will force you to confess things that wouldn’t come out even under the torture of water boarding.  Wouldn’t it be simpler and less time-consuming if you just give me what I want?  Without going through the sexual frustration of trying to resist me?”

Jon knew that Rachel was used to his pawing, teasing and incessant sexual innuendos and that she didn’t even pay attention to it half the time.  This was one of those moments when she was ignoring him, placating him like child.   

Instead of actually engaging in his conversation, she  stood back at the tree while absently responding,  “I don't find it sexually frustrating at all.  In fact, I find it quite satisfying.  You’re the one who works up a sweat, and I'm left counting my many orgasms.  Then I’m so exhausted I sleep like a baby.  You feel like the ‘cock of the walk’ and everybody’s happy.”  A single finger pointed to the tree,  “There’s a bare spot right there.”

Jon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “I don't think I've ever heard you say ‘cock’.  Very sexy the way it rolls off your tongue.”  If the slap she gave herself to the forehead was any indication, Jon would say she wasn't exactly aroused by the topic of conversation, but he couldn't let it go.  “So you're gonna just lay back and let me work myself to death trying to get you off?”

“It’s good for you.  Keeps you young and virile.  There’s still a big bare spot right there, babe.”

He knew he was hanging ornaments everywhere except where she wanted him to, but watching Rachel try to keep her aggravation under control was too much fun.  She pointed, again, at the same unornamented area on the tree and sweetly tried to get him to take notice.

“You’re pretty good at sitting back directing me to do all the work,” he observed while ignoring the blatant direction.  “I see a pattern forming here.”

“I like to stand back and watch you work, especially when you reach for the tall branches.  Your shirt lifts up just enough to give me a peek of the goodies to come.”  Finally, her patience had run out and she shook her entire arm, avidly pointing at the naked branch.  “Geez, honey… RIGHT THERE!  It needs an ornament.”

Jon set the box of ornaments down and slowly turned to her.  He took the four or five steps between them, slid his hands down the curves of her butt and pulled her flush against him.

“I’m saving that spot.  I want your panties dangling from that branch.”  Taking off the Santa hat, he put it back on her with the ‘Naughty’ side facing forward.  “And since the tree is all but finished, now seems like a good time to rid you of them.”

She went wide-eyed with surprise and he recognized the sudden change in her body language as lust.   They’d had such a rough week, the playfulness of the night combined with the holiday festivities had been a welcome and much-needed relief. Rachel seemed as happy as he was to have their relationship back on track, and also to play along with his game.

“Oh…… but if I sleep with Santa, won’t I end up on the ‘naughty’ list?

God, I love her!

The truth was, Jon loved everything about her.  He'd come so close to losing her this week and it made him appreciate this exact moment more than he once would have.  There was a light snow beginning to fall, the fire was roaring in the fireplace and she was in his arms eager to let him do unimaginable things to her.   

Damn straight she would end up on the naughty list. He would personally make sure of that.

“S’ok.  The girls on the naughty list get all the best presents.”