Thanksgiving

Chapter 12

Christian looks from the phone to me, a look of frustration blanketing his chiseled features. "Text me his number, I'll call him in the morning." He replaces the pillow that sits in his lap and pulls the duvet over his legs and lays down, turning off the lamp on the nightstand next to his side of the bed.

I stare at him as he closes his eyes. "Christian, for once I wish you'd think about how this situation might be affecting other people in your life," I say, trying to hold back tears.

I go to the bathroom and put on my night gown and brush my teeth. On returning to the bedroom, I see Christian's eyes are closed but I'm not sure if he's asleep. I turn off the main room light and realize I had forgotten to turn on my bedside lamp so the room is pitch black. Thinking I know my way across the room, I walk quickly to my side of the bed and slam my right foot into the solid wood leg with such force, the bed scoots on the floor. White flashes appear behind my eyelids. "Mother of... God blessit... DAMN!" I say finally as I sit down on the bed and turn on the side light. I look at my foot and can see it's red and starting to swell. I can tell it will hurt tomorrow. In a flash, Christian is sitting beside me looking at it.

"I'll get you some ice," he says getting out of bed.

"I don't need ice."

"You're hurt, you need ice."

"Oh my God, Christian – I stubbed my foot! I don't need ice. Go back to bed."

"Lay down," he orders as he sits beside me.

I lay back on the bed and Christian takes my foot in his hand. He touches each toe in turn and I flinch for all but the big one. He lifts my foot to his mouth and kisses each toe gently. I wasn't going to give in to him tonight, I tell myself. But he is a master when it comes to my feet.

"You have the most beautiful feet, Anastasia." I try to wiggle my toes innocently but the pain is too much to be cute. He moves so he is sitting cross-legged between my feet. He takes my left foot and holds it up to compare it to my right. "Wow, you really did a number here."

He then kisses my left toes gently as if they must have been jealous. He reaches over and pulls massage oil out of the drawer in my bedside table, squirts some in his hand and gently begins to rub it into my feet. Being careful around my right foot, he doesn't rub around my toes... just down the sole, over the heel, and up my calf. He adds more oil to his hands and repeats his actions on my left foot. This time taking extra time to rub the oil between my healthy toes, kissing and sucking as he works his way down my foot. Every touch forms a line of electricity straight between my legs. I close my eyes as his hands slowly make their way under my nightgown. He spreads my legs slightly and shifts up on the bed so my legs are on either side of his body and my knees are resting on his bent knees. He slowly slides my nightgown up but doesn't reveal my sex. He knows how to tease me just right.

Oiled hands glide down over my outer thighs and up over my inner thighs. His fingers graze my pubic hair but go no further. He repeats the same ministrations on my other leg, then using both hands, he massages both legs at once being sure to get no closer to my center than the trimmed hair at the apex of my legs. My breath quickens and I raise my hips to his hands every time they get near me.

"What do you want, Ana?" he whispers.

"Mmmm..." I say as I continue to gyrate my hips in response to his hands. I spread my legs.

"I'm not sure what mmmm is," he says as he runs both thumbs down either side of my wet center, spreading me open. "Is it something to do with these beautiful pink lips?" He runs a finger lightly from the bottom of my sex to my clit and back, dipping a finger into my wetness. He adds a second and third finger with one hand, and with the other hand uses his thumb to press on my clit. Slowly, he glides his fingers in and out of me. The slow, methodical movement is getting me closer to the edge.