Passions Present: Christmas Surprise
By Dana Keylits
December 24, 2009
She winced as the door creaked open, and held her breath as she strained to hear any sign that she'd roused Bette from her sleep. After several seconds of nobody, Kate tiptoed over the threshold and gently closed the door behind her, wincing again at the soft click of the door making contact with the jamb. She paused, her eyes closed as she listened for any tell that Bette was awake, but all she heard was the metronomic tick tick tick of the oversized kitchen wall clock as the large second hand made it's unending 180 degree journey. She slipped out of her shoes, leaving them on the mat by the door, and gave her eyes time to adjust to the dim lighting. Only the eight-foot Christmas tree lit the apartment, soft bulbs of red and blue, green and yellow casting multi-colored shadows over the hardwood floor. Kate inhaled, relishing the scent of pine needles that harkened back to her cavity prone years when her father had made the family trudge through the snow at a tree farm to cut down their family tree. She smiled at the memory before a glimmer of long-worn grief skittered along its edge. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the hook beside the door, then placed her holstered gun inside the drawer of the small table that stood in the corner.
It was Christmas Eve and Kate had had to work, as she had every Christmas Eve since she was a flatfooted rookie cop working a beat. Bette had learned to be okay with that over the years, and Kate had made up for it by always finding a way to surprise Bette on Christmas morning.
And, this year was no different.
Although they had long ago settled into a blissfully adult domestic life together, peppered of course with occasional conflicts, periods of "bed death," and the normal skirmishing that happened in any long-term relationship, they both still had an occasional wild side.
And, this year's Christmas surprise could be considered by the less adventurously inclined as wild.
Kate opened the closet door, praying it was squeak-free, and pulled out the duffle bag she'd stashed in there before going to work. She quickly disrobed down to her birthday suit, and then, shivering from the lack of clothing, quickly slipped into the naughty Mrs. Claus outfit she'd purchased at the Smitten Kitten three weeks earlier. Ironically, it was Castle who'd given her the idea. They were on a stakeout across the street from the adult-themed store, and a well-endowed headless mannequin was modeling the outfit. Castle, being Castle, had simply chin-nodded in the direction of the store, waggled his eyebrows at her, and given her the once over. She had, predictably, huffed at him and rolled her eyes. She might have also said something about him being a jackass as well, but she couldn't quite remember, since she'd used that term to describe him on numerous occasions.
And, almost always for good reason.
The outfit came with red panties, a garter belt and thigh high white stockings, a red corset with white satin trim, and a red felt Santa hat, the end of which was lit with an LED bulb. After struggling with the garter for a couple of minutes and then slipping into a pair of four inch fuck me stilettos, she finally checked herself in the mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door, and although she was dimly lit, she could see enough to be satisfied with her appearance.
She just hoped Bette would be, too.
Now that she was ready, she wasn't worried about waking Bette. In fact, that was now her goal. After calling up the Christmas jazz album on her iPhone, and cradling it in the iDock, turning the volume up high enough that Bette would hear it, but not so loud that it would disturb the neighbors, she positioned herself in front of the expansive Christmas tree. One leg jutted out like Angelina Jolie at the Oscars, her hands planted on her hips.
And, then, her heart hammering in her chest, she waited.
It didn't take long before the barn door leading to their bedroom slid open, and a sleepy-eyed Bette came padding out of the room, her obsidian hair a tangled halo around her face, wearing light blue draw-string pajamas that puddled at her ankles, and a soft cotton white t-shirt with blue stitching around the hem. When she got sight of Kate in her naughty Mrs. Claus outfit, Bette stopped in her tracks, mid-yawn, the heel of one palm stalled while rubbing her eye. She let her arm fall to her side and a slow grin lit her face. "Kate," she breathed. "Holy shit."
"Merry Christmas," Kate purred, doing a little curtsy, a mischievous smile perched on her lips. "Surprise," she added with a breathy whisper.
"Kate," Bette repeated. "Wow," she stepped closer. "You look." She bit her thumbnail; her eyes dropping to the stilettos and then slowly rising up Kate's body with the lasciviousness of a predator. "Wow."
"So," Kate whispered, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. "You like it?"
Bette quickly approached and wrapped one arm around Kate's slender waist, her lips ghosting her lover's throat. "I love it."
Kate felt her insides flip flop, the heat rise in her cheeks, and she slowly rocked her pelvis against Bette's hips. "Yeah?"
There was nothing unsure or tentative about Bette's kiss, her lips pressed firmly against Kate's, their tongues meeting, exploring, dancing…a wild tango that left them both breathless and wobbly. Bette tasted like chocolate, smelled like lavender, felt like heaven, and Kate worried that her feet might betray her and, her knees turning to syrup, she would collapse into a heap of quivering sweaty bones and blood and flesh.
She framed Bette's face with both hands, their kiss deepening, and then slid one hand slowly down the other woman's front, pausing between her breasts, and then slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama's. Kate gasped. "You're not wearing any underwear."
She could feel Bette smile against their kiss as she whispered, "I know."
Kate laughed, and then shivered as Bette trapped her bottom lip between the dangerous ridge of her teeth. The air shifted, became carnal, primal, wanton, and suddenly Kate could no longer abide the fabric that separated them. She explored the depths of Bette's body, her hand finding that wonderful, magical place, that place that was warm and wanting, and she slipped her fingers between the wet folds of Bette's sex.
"Ohhhh, Kate," Bette moaned, veining her arms around the taller woman's neck. "Fuck."
"I intend to," Kate replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Bette laughed, her voice like velvet, and stepped back. She reached for Kate's hand and led her to the wall that separated the bedroom from the living room, never taking her gaze from Kate's chameleon eyes. Bette pressed her body firmly against Kate, trapping her against the hard plane of the wall, her hand slipping between Kate's legs, and Kate's whole body shuddered. "Not if I fuck you first," Bette challenged.
Kate wrapped one leg around Bette's middle and threw her head back, not caring when it made sharp contact with the unforgiving wall.
At first she slipped in one finger, then two, and all of the air in Kate's lungs rushed out as her insides quivered. Bette's thumb was relentless against Kate's clit and, with barely a preamble - hardly their usual foreplay - Kate felt the familiar coiling in her belly. Within minutes, her eyes closed, her body tense, her fingers digging into the sinewy flesh of Bette's shoulder, the orgasm juddered through her and she spiraled, higher and higher as each wave of pleasure crashed against her shores.
When finally she was still, her heart slamming against her ribcage, her breathing ragged, she leaned against the wall, her face splitting into a wide grin. "Whoa."
Bette giggled and then fingered the lines of Kate's corset. "Oh, we're just getting started," she announced. She leaned down and kissed Kate's cleavage, first the left breast, and then the right. "I intend to take my sweet time unwrapping this gift."
Kate let her fingers play through Bette's tangled curls, her body still humming from the unexpected orgasm. "We're going to be awfully tired during that brunch with your father."
"Mmmm," Bette murmured. "Totally worth it." She kissed her way up the column of Kate's throat, and then leaned back as though taking in the view. "We'll just have to get a nap in before we have dinner with your dad."
Kate gasped as Bette reached around and grasped her from behind, crushing their bodies together. She ghosted her lips against the shell of Bette's ear. "Mmmhmmm."
Bette twined her fingers with Kate's and led them towards the bedroom. She eyed Kate up and down again, ogling her with a sinister grin. "And you should wear that again when we do it."
Kate laughed. "That's a sure way to get no sleep," she joked as they entered the dark bedroom.
Bette bit her bottom lip and circled her arms around Kate's waist. "Kinda the point."
Kate smiled. "Merry Christmas," she whispered, glancing at the clock as it flashed 12:47 a.m.
"Merry Christmas," Bette replied. She reached to untie the unyielding corset. "Thank you for my Christmas surprise." She pressed her lips softly against Kate's mouth and whispered, "I love it."
Kate exhaled, closing her eyes as a bolt of pleasure so sharp it almost hurt coursed through her. "And, I love you."
The End
A/N: Merry Christmas, Kristy. XOXO