A Thigh Hih Christmas Page 2

  Pulling her close to his body with a quick tug, he guided her to their bedroom where he sat on the on the end of the bed and slid back so his feet rested on the gold-tufted bedroom bench at the foot of their California king. Lying back on his elbows, he continued to massage the length of his cock. Fiona knew he was silently asking for reciprocation for a job well done in the bathroom. She also knew her mouth was magic on her man’s shaft.

  With a supremely confident smirk, similar to the one she’d observed on him in the bathroom, she knelt on the bedroom bench and leaned forward so she came face-to-face with his sculpted abs. Tempted by the trail of hair that ran a path over the unforgiving ridges, she ran her warm tongue down over his belly button and felt his hardness twitch against her breasts. She firmly scraped her nails back and forth over his heavily muscled thighs while she teased the tip of his already leaking, swollen cock with her talented tongue. Then, massaging his warm sacs, she avoided his shaft completely and rolled his sensitive balls in her warm mouth. Shifting her attention, she firmly grasped the base of his shaft and deep-throated her husband, throat-massaging his cock until he curved, at full mast, past his navel, and she finally released him with a pop.

  While he was in a temporary euphoria, Fiona straddled him instead of sucking him to completion, as she knew he would expect. Grasping the base, she seated herself heavily, claiming purchase on his chest with her short, manicured nails.

  She leaned over to look her husband in the eye. “Buck,” she commanded, before she rose in a slow roll then massaged his massive length all the way back down to the base.

  “Christ!” shouted Max as his hands shot up to grasp her hips. She was milking him in anger and frustration, but also with the passion that perpetually simmered under the surface of their day-to-day. There was never a time where they didn’t crave this closeness. She was disappointed, and her feelings were hurt, and she was going to ride it out on him. And he would let her. Eventually they would work out what his actions truly meant, but she was going to let him know with her body what her heart was feeling.

  As she sped up her tempo, the rhythmic slapping of her wet pussy on his cock was punctuated only by an occasional grunt of a stallion and the heavy breathing of its rider.

  * * *

  Max met her thrust for thrust, his teeth clenched, panting wildly, trying to hold off his release. He reached up to bring her face down to his in a wet, almost painful mix of kisses and nips. He ran he hands over her body urgently, trying to get to her clit and help her finish with him. Furiously massaging the swollen tissue of her pussy, he tapped her sensitive nubbin and began a rocking climax that had Fiona grinding her clit on him like a desperate animal and screaming his name.

  As he got closer, he clenched his teeth and grasped one of her hips and the nape of her neck and brought her lips closer, crashing them down on his. He poured all his love and passion for this one woman into one kiss, while bracing his feet on the bed and finally bucking like the wild stallion she wanted him to be. She rode him with a vengeance, her sheath still clutching his shaft and milking him for all the essence he could give her.

  And empty into her he did. His warmth bathed her insides, and he could feel her body relax, like he had been given a reprieve and tomorrow would be another day.

  * * *

  Well, today is going to be one big shit show, thought Max as he watched his wife have an animated discussion with Bill Macy in the conference room regarding CompuFire. Her conservative, stark-white suit successfully emphasized that her legs glittered like new-fallen snow. Her brown eyes sparkled with merriment as she explained some amusing point to Bill while crossing and uncrossing her legs.

  Maxwell wasn’t sure if she knew this, but she could have been reciting Hamlet to Bill and Macy would’ve continued to nod and smile while he stared at the mile of leg she was showing off to her best advantage. Max was tempted to barge in and tell him to keep his view at eye-level or he could find another company to do marketing for, but he knew that would only make it worse with Fiona. He’d asked her to get Bill up to speed, and she was doing as she was asked.

  Despite the fact that she thought his decision was a personal affront, despite the fact that she believed her integrity was in question, she was still trusting her husband wouldn’t be a complete jackass and would hopefully come to his senses. His heart swelled for her a little more knowing she was still trying to have a little faith in him.

  Too bad she hadn’t spoken one word to him on the ride to work and had made it a point to march her sexy ass in front of him multiple times this morning wearing the white garter with crystal accents, lace bustier, and matching stockings. He was going on three hours with a semi, and he was going to be forced to take care of business in his office bathroom if his beloved wasn’t going to stay out of his field of vision.

  With that thought, he returned to his office and, with a resounding click, shut his door.

  Tuesday Evening

  “Fi, you can’t keep this up! We have to talk sometime. Please, just trust me—this is all just a misunderstanding,” cajoled Max, as he smoothly switched gears in his Audi R8 Spyder. “Just be patient with me. You’ll see that this change in workload is a good idea. It has nothing to do with your skills or competencies—just your well-being and good time management.” One more day, darling, one more day.

  Fiona turned in her seat to face Max.

  “Husband, this ever-obedient wife would like to thank you for complimenting me on my abilities at work and then insulting my common sense and sense of self-preservation. This ever-obedient wife would surely work her fingers to the bone to the detriment of herself, her husband, and her child without your guiding hand to steer her clear of disaster. I don’t know how I made it to thirty-seven without you.”

  Turning back to watch the trees go by, Fiona folded her arms under her breasts, essentially dismissing Max’s entreaty for patience. Max was utterly insulted that she would even think he could see her in that demeaning light. She was his partner, his rock, and after years of being together she should know that with concrete certainty. He was suddenly furious at her condescension when he was clearly trying to ask for patience. He’d spent eleven months preparing this present for her only to have her faith him rocked by a simple ploy to free up her schedule. Where had his perfect Christmas gone wrong?

  As he pulled into their circular driveway he turned to Fiona, defeated and frustrated. He wasn’t going to give away the plan, but he would let her know all was going to be right as rain tomorrow.

  “Tomorrow, dammit. Tomorrow you will have an explanation. Is that acceptable? Can we talk now without you throwing daggers out of your eyes at me?”

  “So there is another reason why the account was taken from me, and you choose now to tell me. Oh, and apparently it’s also all right to keep secrets from me on top of slighting me.” Fiona flung open the door to the car and slid out, without Max’s assistance. Leaning in the doorway, she said the last thing Max heard from her lips for the next twelve hours. “Maxwell Santino, I would rather chew glass than be in the same bedroom with you. If you step foot in our bedroom tonight, I’m taking Bella, and we are spending Christmas with Mama in New Orleans. I will take my own car to work tomorrow!”

  Maxwell didn’t think he’d ever seen his wife flounce before, but sure enough, she huffed and puffed and flounced her bountiful ass all the way into the house, slamming the door behind her.

  He couldn’t help but let his head fall on the steering wheel and be amazed at the debacle that was his marriage right now. Just because of a Christmas present. There went the rule of no separate bedroom and readily available sex. Now he knew how the other half lived. He should have just bought jewelry like his father suggested. But no, he was Mr. Go Big or Go Home. Bowing his head, he did as he’d always done when didn’t know what to do—he prayed for guidance.

  Dear Heavenly Father, please let my words and actions be of comfort to my wife tonight. I will give in and tell her about the surprise if it w
ill ease her mind. Can we hold on one more day without this causing us permanent damage? Thy will be done. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.

  Maxwell’s phone began to buzz in the middle console, and he picked it up. His voice brusque and impatient, he said, “Santino.”

  Mike Johnson, the man who helped design and construct Maxwell’s five bedroom, four bath home five years ago, answered with efficiency.

  “Max, everything is going as planned. She’ll be ready per your specs by noon tomorrow,” informed Mike. “Oh, and tell the Mrs. I said hello and thank her for the Christmas card and the generous gift. My wife jokes that building your house is the gift that keeps on giving. You got a real loyal one in that lady. She has a huge heart.”

  Max leaned back and let loose a sigh of relief. He’d never expected to hear the answer to his prayers from his contractor, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thanks, Mike. You just made my Christmas a lot more merry. I appreciate all the work you and the boys have done this year. We still on for drinks after the holidays?”

  “’Course. I wanna hear about the Mrs.’s reaction as soon as you get back,” Mike replied jovially.

  “Will do. Merry Christmas,” Max said with a smile on his face. His holidays were looking up.

  Wednesday

  The Big Reveal

  Fiona heard a tentative knock on her office door. “Come in,” she answered, never taking her eyes from her laptop.

  “You sure about that?” came a familiar baritone voice from behind the door.

  “Yes, Max. Come in,” Fiona said with a tired sigh.

  She’d hated sleeping in their bed alone last night. Nothing was worse than sleeping alone in a marriage bed. As she lay in silence last night, she came to the conclusion that she could have simply waited one more day to see the reasoning behind Max’s actions. One more day wouldn’t have killed them, and she’d broken one rule they’d kept intact for five years.

  It had been cold and unfamiliar not knocking into his large frame in the bathroom while getting ready for work. He’d even left before she’d gotten out of the shower, announcing he was dropping off Bella at daycare from the door of the bathroom. She was miserable. She realized she couldn’t go a full twenty-four hours without the security and comfort of her husband.

  She watched Max enter and shut the door softly behind him as if he were afraid of startling a skittish doe. He had his hands in his pockets, looking more nervous than she had seen him since the night he proposed.

  “I wanted to see if you’d like to go to lunch. I have something I want to show you. It will answer all of the questions you had this last week and explain why I wanted you to have some free time coming up.”

  “Sure, baby,” she began, walking around her desk to stand before him. “But I want to say something before we go see this secret. Last night I did some real thinking. There is a difference between blind faith and trust. You asked me repeatedly to trust you over the last few days, and I held so hard to my righteous indignation I lost sight of the fact that you have never done one thing during our life together that would negatively affect our daughter or me. You’ve never done anything other than improve my quality of life. I trust you. Now take me to this important secret.” Fiona held his blue gaze with her soulful brown one, speaking of love and forever in the way only well-matched couples can. She was surprised to see the blue eyes she loved so much shimmer with unshed tears.

  “Oh, baby, don’t cry,” she whispered, leaning up to press her full lips to his. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with so we can move on and have a peaceful holiday… Oh, Max!”

  Suddenly, she was lifted off the floor in a mighty hug that left her feet dangling and her arms around his shoulders.

  “I love you more than life, wife—know this. Don’t ever ask that I spend another night without you, okay?” Max asked, his eyes pleading.

  “Yes, husband, never again.” Fiona laughed. “I have a feeling we have some making up to do, and this surprise is holding us up. Why don’t we make our way to your big reveal, and then we can get to the good stuff.”

  “This is the good stuff,” Max whispered in her ear as he lowered her to the ground.

  Epilogue

  Fiona wrapped her fur-lined winter coat around her as Max rounded the car to open the door. The northeast wind was whipping his wool coat around his body like a referee’s foul flag. She was already cold, and she hadn’t exited the car yet. He had driven them to Boston Harbor Yacht Club, but Fiona was pretty sure no one was going to be in the marina at this time of year. Taking her gloved hand in his, Max walked them down to the a few steps to the dock and turned Fiona’s body toward the water while covering her eyes. Over the whistling winter wind and the sound of the city behind her, Fiona heard Max’s quiet demand.

  “Open your eyes, my love. Merry Christmas.”

  Fiona blinked against the wind and finally focused on a one-hundred-ten-foot traditional sloop. The regal vessel had a cockpit for the helmsman and a beautiful, low-profile cabin house. From the outside, the forward cockpit looked to hold ten or twelve guests easily, and on both the side and stern of the boat in silver script was Fiona’s Love.

  Fiona could not stop the tears from streaming down her face as Max diligently tried to wipe them from her cheeks.

  “I love her, Max!” she exclaimed wildly, hurling herself into his arms.

  “You see, Captain Fi, I just wanted to give you more time to enjoy your present. Today is her official birthday. She took exactly eleven months to be born,” Max explained.

  Still wrapped in her husband’s embrace Fiona looked up and said in all seriousness, “See, I told you handing over that big account to Bill would be a good idea. We definitely need some more quality time together. What say we go make up on my new boat? My sexy husband got it for me for Christmas.”

  Max was already halfway down the slip.

  Happy Holidays Everyone!