two
glasses and one fork. I could see that I was going to be fed. He was so in
charge and yet, I loved it. “Let’s sit in the living room and enjoy your new
Christmas tree.”
“Thank you again. The tree is beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful Melissa.” He slipped a piece of chocolate
into my mouth, but before I could swallow it, his tongue invaded my mouth. He
moaned, and I melt like the delicious sweet treat. I loved being wrapped up in
his embrace. I felt safe. Happy thoughts rushed into my head. “What are you
thinking about, bébé?”
“Nothing. Just admiring the tree.”
“Looks to me like you are thinking about something that
makes you happy.” I nodded my head, yes. “I’m not going to ask you to share,
don’t worry. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about. When I was little, my
parents took me shopping for our Christmas tree. I was so excited. It is my
first memory of getting a tree. On our way, we stopped to see Santa Claus, and
I said ‘no, I don’t want to talk to him, I want to get a tree.’ My parents told
me don’t be afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid of him; I just really wanted a tree.
Anyway, they pushed me into the queue and when I finally reached him, I climbed
up onto his lap. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas, was I good boy all
year. My only answer was ‘I want a Christmas tree.’ He asked anything else, and
I said no, that’s it. He laughed as I slipped off his lap and wandered back to
my parents. They asked what I asked Santa for, and I told them I just want a
Christmas tree. My parents love to tell that story to this day.” Evan laughed.
He made me smile. “Now I know why you are adamant about me
having a tree. Merci beaucoup. This has been a parfait evening. The only thing
missing is music.”
“Hey bébé, I've been meaning to ask you. Do you play piano?”
“No.”
“Did your parents play piano? Was it theirs?”
“No. I bought it. I always wanted a piano. And no, I don't
plan to take lessons.” Laughing, “It's just for looks.”
Without saying a word, Evan grabbed my hand and walked me to
the piano, pulled out the bench and sat down. Patting the bench he implored me,
“Sit next to me, bébé.”
Music filled the room. My mouth fell open in amazement. “You
play beautifully,” I said as I was thinking, is there anything he can't do?
This man of many secret talents: I wanted to spend a lifetime learning
something new about him every day. I was surprised by the variety of music he
could play; classical, old standards, popular tunes and even some Christmas
songs that we sang together. As we are laughing and having a great
time, he turned to at me with a sly grin on his face and started playing
music that sounded perfect for a striptease.
“Give me a show, bébé,” he purred.
For anyone else, I would have been embarrassed. But not with
him. I gave him what he asked for as I let my inhibitions float away. Climbing
off the bench, I stood just out of his reach so he could see me as he played.
With my eyes partially closed, I started my sexy private dance for him. I began
to slowly roll my hips as my hands moved over my breasts then down my sides and
between my legs. I paused for a moment, touching myself then pulled my cami up
over my head revealing my hardened nipples pressing against my pale pink bra. I
heard Evan make an unmistakable groan of desire that built in the back of his
throat before escaping his lips, “You’re killing me, bébé.”
I slowly slipped off my French terry boyfriend pants.
Stepping out of them, I kicked them in his direction, and he laughed. Spinning
around, wiggling my bottom, I reached behind and unclasped my bra and twirled
it in the air, then tossing it in his direction. An audible moan escaped his
lips. Swaying from side to side with my hands over my breast, he continued to
play the piano watching me with a wicked look on his face.
Once I started sliding my panties to the floor, Evan
abruptly stopped and lunged for
Learning to Kill: Stories