This one is dedicated to all my fellow Oliverettes, Adri Sekitou specifically. Had it not been for her extreme procrastination in deleting anything in her Hotmail account, this story would not exist. No really. I accidently deleted my copy of it during the move to my new computer; the Oliverette ML, which I had posted it to has long ago been deleted; nobody else I had sent a copy to seemed to have kept it. So, if you like this, after you send me kudos, feel free to send a mental sloppy kiss to Adri as a thank you.
When I bite into a York Peppermint Patty…
…I get the sensation of being in a log cabin in Vermont, in the middle of a blizzard. There’s already four feet of snow on the ground. It’s weight has knocked out the electricity and all I have to provide light are candles and oil lamps. The wood stove keeps me warm as I cook my stew and wait for him to arrive. Thomas called me the previous day and told me to expect him early this morning. As I light the candle on the dinner table I have come to the conclusion that the storm was too much and either Thomas’ plane was unable to land or, if it did, he has to stay at a hotel. Damn phone! Why did it have to go out, too? Sigh. I grab the ladle and begin to serve myself yet another dinner a–
The front door swings open.
“Thomas!” I scream. “You made it!”
Thomas staggers in and closes the door behind him. “Sorry I’m late. The plane had to re-route to Boston ’cause of the storm. I drove all the way from there to the bottom of the hill. Jeep couldn’t make it up.” He leans forward to give me a kiss. It’s the warmest thing I’ve felt all day. I could easily spend all day kissing him, but something more important needs to be taken care of first, namely the melted snow that’s dripping off him and onto me.
“I’m sorry you had to walk all the way up here,” I say, helping him off with his wet things. “I told you my uncle’s over in Korea, trying to get more cabins built. Unfortunately he forgot to attach the plow to my truck before he left.”
Thomas moves into the kitchen and sits down on a chair to remove his boots, as I hang his wet coat on another chair near the stove. “It’s okay, once the storms over I’ll see what I can do.” Smile.
After watching him fight, I offer to help him peel his sweater off. The thermal shirt beneath goes with it as it, too, is soaked. “Exactly how long did it take you to walk the hill?”
“I think about 2 hours. The storm’s really disorienting, but I figured walking was better than staying in the jeep.”
Looking at him sitting there, wet strands clinging to a body whose tan has begun to fade, leaving behind skin that is red with the rawness of the cold, and damp thermals; he hardly looks like the something out of a romance novel I’ve become used to seeing.
“I better get you a blanket.”
Thomas smiles in agreement.
I return with a flannel comforter and Thomas stands in anticipation of becoming enveloped in its warmth. Once the task of wrapping it around him is complete I wrap myself around him. It feels wonderful to have him here again. “Why don’t you go into the livingroom and sit down? I’ll get you a bowl of stew and then I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”
“Okay,” he grins, and is off to make himself comfortable in the other room.
When I come back with the stew I find Thomas balled up on the sofa. I can’t help but notice that the damp thermals are now laid out on the floor, next to the fireplace. I set the bowl of stew on the end table next to him and, pretending that I don’t know what he isn’t wearing underneath that comforter, I kneel before the fireplace and place a couple of Fat Sticks on the bottom. With the help of a match the sticks are lit and they begin their job of starting the fire, and I turn my attention back to the love of my life.
“Are you gonna eat?” I motion toward the meal still sitting beside him.
“Hey, give me some time to warm up.”
I know why he hasn’t touched it, so with a wicked grin I stroll over to him and straddle his lap. “Need some help?”
His response is a smirk followed by a kiss. Soft and gentle his lips are caressing mine. The tip of his tongue invites my own to play. A deep sigh and I am pressed against him, arms encircled around his neck.
My kisses soon leave his lips and venture up to his right ear. Tiny nips at the lobe bring forth a low rumble from his throat, my next target. But before I can make it that far I’m interrupted by the strainings beneath me. With one more kiss I slip off to the side so Thomas can loosen his wrappings. A strong arm slips out and pulls me into the flannel cocoon and the kisses begin anew. His body has warmed. My fingers cling to his shoulders as Thomas’ investigate the buttons on my blouse. There is a look of slight disappointment when he discovers that I am wearing a thermal shirt beneath it, so I begin to take it off.
“No, no, no, leave it on for now.” He deliberately strokes the fabric over my chest. “It’s silk, right?”
“Uh-hum,” I reply, but I’m not quite sure if it’s in response to his question or his touch. My senses are already becoming overloaded. It’s been so long…
“Please take off your jeans,” Thomas whispers in my ear. Who am I to refuse such polite request? I back off his lap. Standing before him, I begin to unbutton my 501s. Upon reaching the final button, he leans forward, reaches up and helps me pull them off. “Lie down.”
Thomas leans over my now reclined body and…
Whoa! Look at that tumbleweed!
(Seriously, I will be finishing this. It’s just a question of “when?”)