Page 8 of Christmas Craving
I thought for sure she’d blow me off, but instead she just gave me a long, searching look before saying, “I’d like that.”
“Cool, I’ll hit you up when I’m awake. I assume you’re an early riser?”
“I am.”
I smirked. “I’m not, but I’ll come over to see you as soon as we’re up and moving and we can decide what to do.”
“Okay.”
I couldn’t help but feel sad as she left to go home.
Celia
Ispent the rest of the night obsessing about my time with Lanie. How we went from watchingUncle Buckto making out to her obvious discomfort when I defaulted into my domme mode I couldn’t tell you.
Her questions rattled around in my head for way longer than I wanted. It was true that I rarely had my submissives service me in any way. Many dommes did, but for me, I enjoyed pushing people out of their comfort zones, quieting their minds, making them come if that’s what we agreed to before the scene, then going home. It was relaxing for me. But as for sex, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done more than get myself off with my vibrator.
Lanie’s question about my ability to have ‘normal’ sex really made me think. It was almost like somewhere along the waygetting other people off had replaced my own desire to have sex. And I avoided attachments like the plague. I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to have a relationship. I’d never actually had more than a short-term fling.
Flings were safe. No feelings, no emotions, no relationship talk. Not that I’d had those lately either.
Then again, Lanie wasn’t asking for a relationship. She was asking for something casual over the holidays. I could do that, right? There was a strong attraction between us, and I knew the sex would be hot as hell, if I could let myself just relax and enjoy it. Besides, it would be good for me to hang out with someone like her. She was so full of life. So carefree. So energizing.
Just after ten thirty I heard a knock on my door. I put down the biography I was reading and went to the door. Lanie was leaning against the threshold, dressed in another pair of faded jeans and a sweatshirt covered with candy canes. Her wild hair was up on top of her head in a messy bun, and just like yesterday, she wasn’t wearing a speck of make-up.
God, she was beautiful.
“Good morning,” she said as I felt a giant nose slide up between my legs. I stepped back before the dog got any more up close and personal with my crotch.
“Arthur and I are going to walk to the park and throw the ball around for a while. Do you want to come with us?” Lanie asked.
I surprised myself by saying, “Sure.”
The truth was I couldn’t say no.
She looked at my outfit. “It was raining a lot last night. You might want to wear something that can get muddy.”
I looked down at my silk blouse and palazzo pants. I’d dressed up for work so long that business casual seemed like dressing down for me. Besides, you never knew when you’d run into a client at the grocery store or the coffee shop.
“Give me five minutes to change.”
I changed into the same running clothes I was wearing yesterday, figuring they were going to get dirty anyway. When I came back out of my bedroom, Lanie and Arthur had moved from the doorway into the living room.
“You don’t have any pictures,” she said.
“What?”
“People usually have pictures of their friends and family in their living room,” she said. “But you don’t. Did you just move in or something?”
“No, I’ve lived here for seven years. But I don’t like clutter.”
The truth was I wasn’t particularly sentimental. Then again, I didn’t have anyone to be sentimental about.
Lanie looked around with her eyebrows raised but didn’t say anything. I examined the room with new eyes. It was pretty sterile, I had to admit, just like the interior designer had intended. The floors were a light blonde hardwood, the furniture was all chrome and glass, the upholstery a pristine white that matched the walls. Other than a framed art print of Mt. Ranier hanging over the fireplace, there wasn’t really any color in the room. I never noticed that before.
“Let’s go before this guy pees on your fancy area rug,” Lanie said. “And maybe we can stop and get you a Christmas tree on the way back.”
“A Christmas tree?” I parroted. For some reason I seemed to do a lot of that around Lanie.
