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Date Posted: 05:32:00 01/01/02 Tue
Author: Leigh
Subject: Re: Holiday 41: short
In reply to: Leigh 's message, "Holiday" on 13:13:09 12/26/01 Wed

*

It had been three years and two months since Chris and his wife had divorced; just over four years since he’d walked into their home and found her in bed with another man, and that was also how long it’d been since he’d last had sex with anyone. Not that sex was something you could forget how to do, but still, after such a long time, it did cause him a little concern. He wanted his first time with Carla to be special, to put her pleasure before his own, but it was difficult, especially when her hands were everywhere on him and her mouth rained kisses on his face, his neck, shoulder…

Somehow they got their clothes off without getting too tangled up. Chris tried to slow things down, wanted to savor every moment with Carla, but she was pulling at him, wrapping her feet and arms around him, enticing him with her lips and eyes. With a groan he gave in and just loved her.

Carla gave a little cry. Her back arched, eyes closed. Her fingers gripped his. “Oh Chris,” she whispered, and then made another sound, filled with joy as he began to move in her. Afterwards, when they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, Chris placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you.”

Carla, on the edge of falling asleep, curled herself closer to him. “I love you too, Chris.”

*

Nikita hooked her arm through Michael’s as they made their way slowly to the elevator door. She yawned, lay her head upon his shoulder and matched her stride to his. “That was nice,” she said, referring to their evening with Chris and Carla.

“Yes.”

“Do you like them?” Nikita asked, turning her face to look at Michael.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She pat his arm, pleased that he did. “How about you,” she asked in the next instant. “Who’s your best friend?”

“You mean, besides you?” he teased, and Nikita grinned.

“I’m serious, Michael. I’d like to know.”

Michael’s brow crooked as he thought about it. “I don’t know if I have a best friend,” he answered truthfully. “They’re mostly business associates, some of whom I’ve known for years. Sometimes we have dinner together.” He thought then suddenly of Simone, her gentle eyes and radiant smile and his heart gave a dull throb. Michael squeezed Nikita’s hand and changed the subject. “What shall we do tomorrow night?”

Nikita considered it a moment and then said, “I think I’d like to stay home, all alone, with you.”

“That’s just what I had in mind too,” Michael replied, and he covered her hand with his.



Later, while Nikita was in the shower, Michael sat down and leaned back. His mind was on Simone. Strange how life went; if Simone had lived, they would have been married by now and probably had a family too. Of course, that meant that he and Nikita would not be together. Life takes with one hand and gives with the other. It had taken several years but now Michael felt he was finally healing. He still loved Simone, a part of him always would. But Nikita -- Michael's heart contracted -- she made life worth living for again.

“I thought you were going to bed.” Nikita stood in the doorway dressed in a terry robe and a towel in one hand. Her hair was damp and tangled, her skin warm and rosy. Michael stood and went to her. He took the towel from her, turned her around and finished rubbing it dry.

“I was waiting for you,” he said.

“What for?”

Giving her hair one last pat, he placed the towel down on a chair and turned her to face him. Michael smoothed her hair away from her face and smiled down at her. “For this,” he answered, and he lowered his face to hers and gave her a long, sweet kiss.

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