Chapter Fourteen
Josh
What was I doing?
This wasn't the plan when I went to Cristina's house the night before. All I wanted to do was bring her the gifts that she had left in the office and reassure her that Matteo would have the game that she so desperately wanted him to have. Seeing her in her home though, comfortable and vulnerable at the same time, was irresistible. I couldn't hold myself back when I felt her lean against me, her head coming to touch mine, crossing over the boundary that we had silently kept between us. I had finally felt released from Willa and that had opened me not to the possibility of Cristina, but the reality of her, the truth of what had been building inside of me for months.
Now as I stood in her bedroom, listening to the voices of her family members in the other part of the house, though, I wondered if I had really made the right choice. She had been so adamant about covering up the time that we were spending together when her sisters found us in the store, which made me wonder how she was going to react to even more of her family members finding us in what could really only be described as a compromising position. Explaining away us being there together by making up my plan to decorate the office for the holidays and throw a party for the employees had been easy. It was completely feasible and had inspired me to actually follow through with that plan and create a holiday celebration for the office.
But how the hell was I supposed to explain away being in her bedroom first thing in the morning?
Cristina was scrambling to get dressed, then she paused and undressed again. I dearly hoped that she wasn't suddenly feeling like round three. The potential of being caught by her family might have turned her on, but it terrified me, and no matter how much I had been hoping that we would be able to spend the day hiding in her bedroom, with maybe a brief interlude to the shower, I didn't think I would be the most exciting partner right at that moment in time.
"Give me five minutes to take a shower," she said.
"I'm supposed to just stand here while you take a shower?" I hissed. "What if they come in here?"
Her eyes flickered over to the door.
"Lock the door. I promise I don't have a key hiding under a welcome mat on the other side."
I shot her a playful glare and crossed the room in two long strides to turn the lock on the doorknob. By the time I turned around again, Cristina had gone into her adjoining bathroom and I heard the shower running. I waited for a few seconds, standing in the middle of the room and feeling fairly useless, then decided that if she was going to wash the evidence away on herself, I probably should as well. I stripped off the clothes I had thrown on, as fast as I could and entered the already steam-filled room. I could see her silhouette through the frosted shower curtain and I had to give my body a quick pep talk to remind it that we were in there to get clean and that was it. The gorgeous, almost painfully sexy wet naked woman in the shower was inconsequential and should be seen as nothing more than a very pleasant decoration. I pushed aside the curtain and she turned to look at me, the water streaming down her body.
Dear lord.
All sense of control and any worries about her family catching us completely disappeared. I no longer cared if they were standing just outside the door demanding to be let in. Cristina's eyes met mine and I saw the hunger there, the same intense need that sparked and flamed inside of me each time that I looked at her. It was as though my desire for her had been building since I first saw her and now it couldn't be contained.
I stepped under the water and allowed the hot stream to soak me, tilting my head back to enjoy the hard, massaging drops running through my hair and onto my back. Before I lifted it, I felt Cristina step up and touch her hands to the fronts of my shoulders. Her mouth touched the center of my chest and I groaned. Straightening, I reached forward and rested my hands to her hips. I guided her forward a few steps so that I was standing more directly in the water and watched her kiss her way down my chest and onto my belly. She reached up and took the bar of soap from the holder hanging on the wall, rubbing it between both hands before setting it aside again. The lather on her palms felt soft and slick as she brought her hands forward to cup my cock, washing it as she trailed her tongue along my belly and dipped it briefly into my navel. Her curious fingers explored my hardened shaft and along the edge of the engorged head before slipping back to tenderly stroke along my balls. The attention was at once incredibly nurturing and intensely erotic. I bit down on my lip, trying to control myself as she rinsed away the soap.
Cristina's hand wrapped around the base of my erection and I felt her stroke the tip across her lips. They were wet and warm, allowing our skin to glide across each other as her breath teased across the wet slit. Finally, her mouth opened and I felt the softness wrap around me. My hands had been hanging by my sides, but now I brought them forward to dig into her hair, both supporting and guiding her head as she sucked me with even greater confidence than the night before. Outside the bathroom I heard people calling for her and footsteps starting down the hallway, but it didn't deter her. She seemed to grow in intensity, the knowledge that they were approaching only boosting her urgency.
Her mouth moved along my cock in fast, smooth strokes, each accompanied by a hard suck on the head. I bit harder, not allowing myself to release the deep groans that were forming in my chest. Her hands ran up the backs of my thighs and gripped me closer to her, then swept around to the front so that her fingertips could play along the juncture between my hips and legs. They found my balls and one palm cupped them, gently kneading them as she increased her pace. The sensations were building rapidly, and I felt myself rushing headlong toward orgasm. I tried to pull her head back, to guide her off of me, but she wouldn't relinquish her position.
I heard a heavy knock on the door and Cristina increased her pace and depth again.
"Cristina," I moaned, wanting to warn her, to let her pull me out of her mouth, but she didn't.
Her fingers tightened on the back of one thigh again, the other hand grasping my shaft. I knew her intention now and I could no longer control myself. The climax rushed over me with a power that was breathtaking, and I felt my legs shake as the muscles throughout my body tightened. I flattened my hand against the wall beside me for support as I spilled into her mouth, feeling her eagerly drawing me in and swallowing. She murmured happily as her throat drew me deeper and then her mouth started to clean me. Withdrawing me slowly from her mouth, Cristina touched a kiss to my lower belly, stood, and kissed me.
"You finish up your shower. I'll divert them."
She climbed out of the shower and I heard her shouting through the bedroom door to her family that she would be out in a minute. The waves of pleasure were still trembling through me as I turned into the water and lazily ran the bar of soap over my body. The bright orange scent cut through the fog of afterglow and I felt more energized as I finished showering, got out, and dried off. All I had to put on was my clothes from the night before and I tried to shake them out before stepping into them, hoping to release at least some of the signs of wear.
Cristina had already gone from the room by the time that I got out of the shower so now I was left with the awkward prospect of walking out of the room and into the rest of the house without even her there to buffer the reaction of her family. I mustered up my best casual look and opened the door, convincing myself that this was not what it felt like for women to do the walk of shame. I wasn't ashamed. Uncomfortable in a way that I couldn't quite put into words, yes, but not ashamed.
I could hear a cluster of voices drifting down the hallway toward me as I made my way back through the house. The smell of bacon frying lured me toward the kitchen and I found myself standing in the doorway staring in at Cristina, her four sisters, and an older woman I had to assume was her mother. The five younger women were sitting at the table engrossed in conversation while their mother stood at the stove, her hand on one ample hip as she wielded a spatula and looked for all the world like she should be the model for a syrup bottle. I stood there for a few seconds before Cristina glanced up and noticed me.
"Here he is," she said. "See? I told you he hopped in the shower after me, so I didn't get a chance to tell him that you were here."
"Good morning," I said.
The five other women stared at me, each of them with a slightly different thought process reflected on their faces. Finally, all returned the greeting to me in a low, cautious monotone.
"Josh is probably feeling a little tired this morning," Cristina said. "After we finished up at the office yesterday he had some amazing ideas, so he came here. We just worked and worked and didn't even realize what time it was getting to, so he ended up falling asleep here."
She had walked around to behind her sisters and was gesturing like she was holding a cup, bringing it to her lips several times. I narrowed my eyes slightly at her and she repeated the gesture, more insistently this time.
"Yeah," I said. "I passed right out. I was drunk."
The women gasped, and Cristina shook her head frantically. She swept the side of her hand across the front of her throat, and then pointed across the room in the direction of a side door.
"No," I said. "I wasn't drunk. Everybody else was drunk. So, I didn't want to drive."
She shook her head again, stopping sharply when all of her sisters and her mother turned to stare at her.
"He's kidding," she said with a forced laugh. "We were just joking last night that the Christmas creep happens faster and faster each year, and it's come so early this year that people are already guzzling the egg nog."
It made absolutely no sense, but the women seemed satisfied. When they turned back toward the table and the dough that I now noticed that they were kneading in front of them, Cristina rushed back across the room toward me, her jaw set and her eyes burning into mine.
"What's wrong with you?" I hissed.
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? Why did you say that you were drunk?"
"You were doing the drinking gesture."
I mimicked the move she had been doing and Cristina let out a sigh.
"I was offering you coffee!"
"Who does that gesture behind people's backs when they are talking about coffee?"
"I don't know. I'm kind of in uncharted territory at this particular moment and --"
"Cristina?"
"Yes?" she said, turning to her mother.
"Does he eat bacon?"
Cristina glanced up at me.
"Do you eat bacon?"
"I do."
"He does."
"Good. Wash up. Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes."
"We just got out of the shower." I looked down at her and saw her eyes widen. "Individually. We each individually got out of our individual showers individually." She pressed her palms together and then pulled them apart. "Separately."
Her mother glared at us and then turned slowly back to her bacon.
Ten minutes later we were crushed together at the table in the dining area passing platters of food around and trying to find our footing in a conversation that didn't underscore the discomfort of the whole situation. I had always felt a little smug that I had never had the experience of being caught with a girlfriend in high school, and this is how the universe smacked me down -- five suspicious women and a platter of French toast.
Cristina spent most of breakfast trying to nail down exactly why they had all swarmed the house first thing in the morning, but they were skillfully avoiding giving her a real answer. I had the distinct feeling that someone had somehow alerted them to my presence and they were on recognizance. By the time the meal finally dragged to an end there was no sign in sight that they were going to be leaving. The sisters had made their way back into the kitchen to continue working on the loaves of bread they had been kneading and their mother was gradually clearing the table and working on dishes. I gave Cristina a reluctant smile.
"I should probably go," I said.
She nodded.
"Thank you again for everything."
There was a hint of mischief in her voice and I smiled. I wanted to gather her up into my arms and kiss her, but there was nowhere in the front of the house where I thought I wouldn't feel their eyes scrutinizing us.
"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate all of your help. Maybe we can continue later?"
She hesitated, and I knew that questions were starting to form in her mind. As long as I was standing in the house, we could pretend that all of this was isolated. It didn't really exist in the real world or in the context of our lives. It was just this one night and one morning. When I left, though, both of us were going to have to come to terms with how this was all going to fit in with our current existence, and I could see that she was already worrying.
"Josh," she started. "What does this ---" her voice trailed off.
"I don't know," I told her. "But I do know that I can't stop thinking about you and I want to spend more time with you. Can we start by decorating the office?"
She laughed and nodded.
"Give me a call. I'm sure you know where to find my number."
I glanced at both doors leading into the room to make sure that we didn't have any visitors and then leaned down to kiss her. There was softness in her lips, the whisper of something starting, and I instantly craved more. I stepped back from her and walked out of the house to stop myself from scooping her up into my arms and carrying her back into the bedroom. I climbed into my car and let out a breath, unable to take the smile from my face. Pulling out of the driveway, I turned toward my house. I needed to change my clothes and get to the office. There were a few changes to the upcoming Christmas sales that I wanted to make so they had time to be released.