Page 4 of Home for Christmas
“Oh.” Why does my mom sound so disappointed? “We thought you might be doing something kinky but…”
“They have too many clothes on for that, Ruby…unfortunately.”
Her mom too?
“Mom!” Marley’s voice is full of shock and her eyes are wide as she takes both moms in. Her cheeks have turned a cute shade of pink that goes with her strawberry-blonde hair.
They roll their eyes like they were expecting something else to happen. I don’t even try to figure out what is going on and instead reach down to lift Marley off the floor, making sure no one but me can see her white-as-snow panties. I reach in between us and pull the cloth of said panties over so they cover both cheeks again. Barely.
By the time both of us turn to our mothers they are eyeing us with what seems like suspicion. The look in Ruby’s eyes kind of makes me squirm a little to be honest. Does she know I had my hand all over her daughter’s ass?
“Well,” my mom grabs my attention and I wonder if she realizes I lied to her, “did you two get to reconnect or what?”
“Oh, we’ve been getting to know each other, seeing different sides of each other, finding out things we both like.”
Marley gasps but hides it well. Not so much the frown that forms on her plump full lips. Both moms seem tickled by my words though.
“Great! That’s great, sweetie. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of things to discuss over dinner then.”
“Oh, um, I promised Danni I would come over tonight.”
Danny? Who the hell is Danny? I don’t remember any kid named Danny hanging out with her.
“Oh, do you want to invite…?”
“I’ve got plans too, guys. I hate to leave you two, but I promised some friends I would drop by and say hi. Maybe we could do it another night.”
I hate disappointing mom and Ruby but there is no way in hell I am sitting at a table, pretending to eat while some little shit flirts and touches Marley. I make sure to really apologize to the moms, even helping them unpack the groceries before making my way to the front door. I get there at the same time Marley does. She’s dressed in another sweater with leggings and little ankle boots. I take my lead from her as she sweeps past me and ignores me only saying bye to her mom and mine.
I would love to pick her little ass up and spank her again. For more than one reason. I watch as she drives off without a backwards look wondering if she wore leggings because they are easier to take off, to accept a hand down the front of them, without any struggle. The thought makes me homicidal. Instead of actually going out to meet up with anyone I just spend some time driving around town looking at all the things that have changed.
Once I'm back home I call my buddy. We met in one of my engineering classes but he chose to pursue the architectural aspect of building while I really like engineering.
“Tannen, how’s things going in the old hometown?”
I unload on him. He’s heard me speak of Marley before and knows how I worried about coming back home and seeing her with someone. He listens without saying very much, giving me moral support without even saying a word.
“Can you believe she was wearing that with the fucking door unlocked?”
“A sweater?”
“Dude, it was not just a sweater, damn it!”
I breathe through the rising anger. And fear for her.
“So, tell me again why you aren’t hitting it like a Christmas drum?”
“Jesus, Silas. Watch your fucking mouth about Marley. She’s not someone you do that with and walk away from. Besides, she has a boyfriend.”
“So?”
“So? So, she has a boyfriend.” I repeat the obvious. No matter how much it makes me want to puke.
“They aren’t married and if you take her the right way she’ll dump the loser and run straight to you.”
“She’s…no! Just no!” I change the subject, so I don’t have to explain to Silas how I really feel about Marley.
Yeah, I could break her and her boyfriend up but what if she hates me for it afterwards? What if it just ends up breaking her heart because she’s really in love with this idiot? I couldn’t do that to Marley. I could never risk hurting her just because I want her so badly I can’t breathe without her. Better she be happy without me, than miserable with me.