Page 57 of Ghost of Ex-mas Past
“Charlie!” a voice calls from behind me. I turn around and Bea is dashing up the street as fast as her heels can carry her. I stride forward to meet her and she leaps into my arms. “You did so well,” she says, voice muffled into my lapel. “You impressed Nash. He sent me home to celebrate with you.”
I squeeze her once before letting go. “Do you want to go to The Plaza to celebrate?” I’m still learning the city, but I recently asked Brin what the best place to propose would be, and she gave me a list of options like:
Cheesy—top of the Empire State Building
Old-School Classy—The Plaza
Like a Tourist—Times Square complete with billboard
Public—the High Line
Private—Le Bernardin
Whimsical—Coney Island
Manicured Nature—St. Luke’s in the Fields
Practical—Tiffany & Co.
There was a star next to private, which I took as a giant hint. I have a reservation for August 16 for a private room at Le Bernardin.
Bea pulls away and looks at Arlo. “What do you think? You want a drink?”
“I’m going to celebrate by going home to the family.” He gives me a backslapping hug and Bea a kiss on the cheek before walking in the opposite direction toward the subway.
“Hmm,” Bea says, looking up at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “What shall we do to celebrate?”
It takes us twenty minutes to get to my place, and another minute to get her bent over the kitchen counter, her skirt rucked up over her ass, her panties around one ankle, and me on my knees behind her. I strip off my button-up and fling it toward the door, where my jacket and tie litter the floor. I use my hands to pull her ass cheeks apart and dive in, savoring the way she tastes and the noises she makes as I pull her clit into my mouth and suck.
Bea gasps and writhes on the cool marble counter, and I get her right up to the edge before pulling away.
“What are you—” Bea raises her head, but I stand behind her, unbuckling my belt and pulling out my cock. Bea makes a whimpering sound of anticipation and I line myself up, pants around my ankles.
When I slide inside her, it feels so good, like home. I regret having an eight-year gap in our relationship when we weren’t doing this as often as we could, but we both needed to grow in our own ways. Our relationship would have broken one way or another, and I can’t see how it could have come back together so perfectly any other way.
I reach out and pluck at the golden coil of Bea’s hair. “Undo it,” I rasp. She reaches back to pull out the three pins that hold her hair in place, and when it twirls loose I thread my fingers through it and hold her to the counter. “Grab the other side.”
She reaches her arms up to grip the edge of the counter and brace herself. I put my other hand on the small of her back, enough that she feels pinned, and I begin thrusting.
Her hands don’t stay on the beveled edge long. I’m taking her hard, and she scrambles, getting desperate with each slap of our bodies.
I come as she calls out my name, and as soon as I catch my breath, I drop back to my knees. I swipe my tongue over her slit again and taste both of us combined. Fuck, that’s hot. I alternate between sucking and licking until her right foot, still in her work heels, trembles and lifts off the floor, her toes curling as she pulses her orgasm against my face.
I keep licking without touching her clit, slowly and carefully letting her come down until she moans in sweet satisfaction.
Finally, I rise and curl over her back, kissing her spine right above the edge of her sleeveless blouse.
She groans and I help her slip off the counter. She tilts her head back and laughs. “Well, that was one way to celebrate.”
“Water?” I offer.
“Yes, please.”
I pull my pants up and button them so they don’t fall down again, and fetch us both a glass and some cool water from the fridge dispenser. My eye catches on the magnet I bought her for Christmas—“I Love Doodles.”
I smile when I pass her the water, remembering that night by the Christmas tree.
“What?” she says, eyes curious. I gesture at the magnet, and she chuckles.
While I don’t know where this deal is going to take us, I’m less worried about where my life is going now.
It’s going to be a Bea-utiful life.
