Alternate Universe
NC-17

His hand slid down the soft long arm of the woman beside him. His other hand played with the strands of golden silk that dressed her head. His tongue bathed her long neck as his teeth scraped the goose bumps from her alabaster skin.

Her teeth played with his lush bottom lip. Her tongue darted in and out laving his saliva with hers. She was aroused beyond recognition; he was afflicted with need and want. Their hands dancing, fingers clutching, eyes traveling from eyes to lips and the nearness becoming almost stifling. If they could crawl into each other, so be it.

They had agreed - no names, no confessions, just pure passion, lust and desire. This night would bring nothing but precise satisfaction. The agreement spoke of unrestrained appetites; their pacts consisted of unchecked needs and of unrealized fantasies. This was a night to achieve all the desires that had haunted their reveries.

She smiled, let out a small sound of satisfaction and closed her vivid blue eyes. “Can we go…somewhere?” She managed to say.

“My room?” He asked moving the hand from her hair to rest on the lap that was covered by her skirt. His nails raking her thighs.

He winced with need when she stroked the length of him through the fine wool of his pants. “No…” she managed again. “My room.” And stood on shaky legs.

-----

Michael Samuelle walked the streets of Toronto in a bubble of grief. In the Canadian City on a business trip he had received the news that his beloved grandfather had passed away at home in France. Michael’s head low, the black overcoat warding him from the chill that promised to turn into bitter cold. His jumbled thoughts careening aimlessly down memories that could rip anyone apart.

He was again a 10 year old, frightened and sad for the loss, for the loneliness, for the lack of hope. He randomly wondered the night streets evading the passerby’s as they traveled with quickened steps to reach their destinations. Back then at 10 years of age he had lost his parents and grandmother. His grandfather had fostered Michael, had raised him to be the man he was.

He then remembered his early 20s when his wife had died unexpectedly consumed by a decease that was never properly diagnosed. Alone again but for his always present and always loyal grandfather. His grandfather now gone - what was Michael to do, he knew his son needed him, but he felt he could not go on.

This area of the city with its misty cold streets was full of men and women laughing, moving, talking, and living. Michael stood on a corner waiting for the green traffic light to cross. Not sure were he was, had been or was going he found himself in front of his elegant hotel and went in looking for the trendy lobby bar.

Drowning his grief in a bottle of alcohol would ease the pain and make him forget if for an instance. The next morning he would return to Marseilles to make proper arrangements for his grandfather’s burial. Michael entered the dimly lit bar and asked for a table to the back, away from the noise, the merriment and the partying.

Michael ordered a bottle, an expensive Napoleon Brandy and asked the waiter to bring him a pack of Marlboros. He didn’t smoke or really drink, but he thought this would be permissible during a night of debauchery. He sat quietly observing the patrons of the chi-chi bar and feeling more than sorry for himself.

------ Nikita Wirth finished watching a teary chick paid-per-view movie in her Toronto hotel room. The bed was covered with wet Kleenex tissues and the blonde shook her head at her uncontrolled emotions. She was feeling sexually aroused and more than a bit frustrated by the sexy little flick and she thought comfort food would ease her excitement. She was a good girl after all, a virgin at 26 so… she picked up the Room Service Menu.

She was on her way to the United States from her home in Australia; Nikita had decided to stop in Toronto just in case she liked Canada better. After all, she was relocating, had no strings and could do as she pleased. But she had already decided to go to the States since she had a teaching job waiting for her, she could always return to beautiful Canada. So what to do now? It was 11:00 p.m. and when she called Room Service they told her they were closed.

Making a decision to go downstairs and eat at the lobby bar, Nikita put on an ankle length gray skirt, button front black angora sweater and a pair of flat black shoes. Her blonde hair hung loose framing her lovely face with light. Her blue eyes sparkled with the vow of a new life and the strange appetite lingering on her perfect center.

////

The handsome man had been at the bar for a little over a half-hour, the bottle of Brandy was a quarter gone. His mesmerizing green eyes were a smoky color; the coat lay haphazardly on a chair, dangerously ready to fall to the floor. He watched the attractive blonde walk into the dark bar, he heard her ask his waiter if they were still serving food.

The waiter explained that there was no place to sit and that she would have a long wait. She tried flirting with the waiter in an obvious attempt to get a spot and the man smiled at her whispering loud enough that he was gay. The pretty blonde laughed and winked at the perfect male who she had noticed watching her, her exquisite shoulders raising in defeat – good try though.

The hunk motioned with his hand, a silent invitation for her to join him. She nodded and moved gracefully the scant steps to his table. She was beaming the entire time; he was half smiling, half gawking at the beautiful tall blonde. “Thank you, I am starving and Room Service is closed.”

“No problem.” He answered in his sultry, deep toned, alluring French lilt.

“A man of few words, I see.” She said smiling. “Tell you what, let this be a chance meeting…”

He interrupted, “Mysterious…”

She smiled, moved forward and took a sip of his Brandy, “Precisely, do you mind if I speak more than you?”

“No” He answered and smiled again while his head started to swim in a pool of expensive booze.

The gay waiter walking away with her order gave the blonde the thumbs up.

“Hmm” she said and asked, “May I?” He nodded and she refilled the glass downing it in one swift gulp. ”Let’s see - no names, no regrets, no history…are you married?”

He smiled and served her another drink; he had stopped drinking the moment she sat down. “No I am not…no more questions.”

“No more…I just needed to know…only rule…” She said and observed him devour her with his sultry eyes.

He was absolutely gorgeous. His hair a cascade of copper curls that framed his handsome face and looked so incredibly soft that she could not resist reaching out to touch. She moved on to massage his scalp burying her fingers on the lush mane. Then pulling courage from where she didn’t know, she tentatively kissed him.

“Hmm” she murmured, he groaned. He allowed her to take command, his tongue dancing with her in an experimental dance of total sensations. He needed this, wanted it, a blind anonymous rump with a beautiful stranger that would most likely rock his world. So he lost himself in the kiss, in the caress, in the intensity of it all.

Her hunger for food replaced by her hunger for this fantastic specimen of manhood. The French accent had been the trump card rendering her defenseless to his allure. She separated and he went to work on caressing her.

- “My room?” He asked moving the hand from her hair to rest on the lap that was covered by her skirt. His nails raking her thighs.

He winced with need when she stroked the length of him through the fine wool of his pants. “No…” she managed again. “My room.” And stood on shaky legs. –

--- He threw on the table sufficient money to cover their bill and whispered in her ear, tongue snaking into a sensitive spot, “Are you still hungry?” She shivered.

“Yeah – but it will wait.” She said and grabbed his hand pulling him out of the bar.

“Wait…what is your room number? As she started towards the elevators.

“1234.” She answered confused, a bit drunk and a lot horny.

He turned to the waiter and told him to please have the food delivered to her room. The jeopardous, incognitos fling that was about to set forth thrilling both participants to a billowing sensuality. So without care for safety, common sense or an iota of concern the nameless characters took on the staring roles in an award winning triple ‘X’ rated motion picture that could have been titled ‘Thanks for the Fling – the Sex was Great.’

Hands caressing, lips kissing, arms holding, tongues lashing, hearts pounding. Their unmentionables swimming with desire, with climatic drama and fulfilled promises. Their words creating soft instructions that culminated in multi orgasmic perfection. Heaven was in that room that night – concerns, apprehensions, worries and stress non-existent. There was no marring the flawless coupling, just uncorrupted passion and unadulterated sex.

The man had been attentive, responsive and totally perfect. The chaste woman gladly surrendering her undefiled fruit for an uncompromising perfect first time. The couple had won the World Cup for perfection in the field of seduction, implementation, execution and completion. There had been no battle for domination here, there had been nothing more than a perfect night of sex.

---

In the morning when the sun sneaked into her room through a tiny sliver Nikita awoke and found nothing but a flower, a note and the emptiness of her bed. She sighed, smiled, and opened the note. Elegant penmanship, all masculine had written the note.

“I sit here and watch you sleep. Your breathtaking beauty, both in and out, makes my head swoon with desire and lust even now. I cannot tell you how appreciative of you I am. Of having found you tonight, when I needed someone as extraordinary as you. You gave me the gift of your virginity and I will always cherish this – Thank you for healing me with your presence, your attention, your generosity and thank you for an unforgettable night, unforgettable sex and magnificent culmination. You will always be in my dreams, in my heart, beautiful stranger.”

She never mentioned the tryst again, neither did he, although they often thought of those hours with great passion and wondered where the other one was. His post script had been succinct and clear – ‘Don’t Settle Ever, you deserve more than that.’ ////

The soot of the city or the tire tread had not stained the new fallen snow on the streets of the metropolis. There had been no time for the tainting of snow since a scant 5 minutes earlier the skies had opened up and allowed a gargantuan amount of the frozen rain to be dumped. The pristine blanket eerily white resembled a fine crisply made hospital bed. The sky barren of sunlight enveloped the stillness and embraced the frigid breeze. The white steam and cold air hoisting to take one’s breath away like a phoenix raising. No sounds just the crunching of ice crystals and snowflakes beneath boots or goulashes, rapidly transversing north and south or east and west.

Michael Samuelle sat in the impressive lobby of the law firm. The snow continued lightly falling. The three-story area paneled in dark oak shined from the high glossy finish. The library could be seen from the leather couch Michael sat on revealing the bustling of law clerks and lawyers removing and replacing large volumes of West law editions in their leather covers and golden lettering. A laughter here, a whisper there and the receptionists giggled at the sight of the handsome client that waited patiently for Mr. Jones.

Michael heard his name and turned slowly, the copper curls resting on the collar of his black full-length coat twirled and the women behind the reception desk gasped. He truly was a sight - elegant, fit and extremely handsome. His green eyes danced full of light and his smile was genuine. He stood and removed his coat exposing his well-tailored black suit, dark gray shirt and stylish tie. He nodded his head in acknowledgement “Edward.”

“I am sorry for keeping you waiting Michael, when it snows this hard the gridlock is impossible to penetrate. I have been sitting a mere 5 miles from the office unable to move even at a crawl. Come with me, the reading of the will is not going to take that long.”

Michael nodded again and said “Of course” as he followed his probate attorney into the equally plush main conference room with its walls lined with portraits of dead lawyers.

A young woman wearing a suit that bordered in ‘too short’ followed a cloud of expensive perfume and brought Edward a file. She was wearing no shirt beneath her fitted jacket and her surgically implanted D cups threatened to spill out of the black lace bra that peeked through her cleavage. She posed seductively by the phone ordering coffee service and trying hard to get the handsome client’s attention – no reaction from him, frustration from her.

Edward Jones, a 70 plus year old attorney had been Michael’s grandfather lawyer since he graduated from Law School at 25. The rich Frenchman had been the law firm’s main client and thus the attorneys there practiced everything from Real Estate to Litigation in order to better serve him. But only Edward had been Mr. Samuelle’s wealth preservation attorney and now was about to finish probating the estate. He was nervous around the young Samuelle; Edward thought the man exuded power – his female staff thought the man exuded sex.

“Michael your grandfather was very precise about his last will and testament. I am sorry that you had to come here, as opposed to us going to you, but he wanted it this way.” Edward said and added, “He was idiosyncratic that way visited a psychic just before updating the will, became obsessed with the woman’s prediction that there was an angel in your future.”

Michael smiled, “I know.”

The paneled wall opened and a technician that had replaced the short-skirted secretary turned on a plasma television. He introduced the videotape into the VCR and handed Mr. Jones the remote. “George didn’t like any new fangled devices, I almost had to force him to videotape the will.”

Michael remembered his grandfather fondly. The man had been stern, more than refined and always available to Michael. His wife, son and daughter-in-law had died in a car accident on their way to join 10 year old Michael and George at the hunting cabin. The elder Samuelle had closed the cabin and never returned.

He had dutifully raised his grandson, who had in turn grown up to make him proud. Almost a year had passed since his death and Michael still missed him. He took a sip of the coffee in order to compose himself. The room became dark and the tape started.

-----

George Samuelle sat in his favorite chair smoking a cigar. He took care of the business portion of the will; he took care of the philanthropic portion of the will, and then took care of leaving appropriately generous amounts to the people that had been faithful to him.

Before long it was Adam’s turn, the 6-year-old boy was now an extremely wealthy child in his own right. Michael’s turn came soon enough and a long list of all the Samuelle assets, holdings, belongings and things were read by the old man with the lawyer adding some more and thus bringing the holdings up to date. Finally they reached the caveat. Michael was expecting it although if he was honest, the content had surprised him.

“Michael, I don’t want you alone anymore. I made a mistake never remarrying and I don’t want you repeating my mistakes, on the contrary – learn from them. You are like a bee from flower to flower, never settling down – Adam needs a mother. I suspect that the reason you are so indecisive is because you don’t have a deadline. You are focused, but need an end goal.” The reflection of the elder Samuelle showed the turn his health had taken by the time he updated the will.

He went on. “So understand, you loose everything – everything if you don’t follow my requests. Mr. Jones has been instructed to donate it all to charity if you don’t. I know that you have your own fortune, but I want you to remember I worked hard increasing the wealth my father left me as my father had done before him. Even your father invested his blood sweat and tears to increase this fortune. Our art has been ‘making money.’ ”

The frail old man continued. “You have exactly 30 days to get married. You are to stay married to this woman for at least the next 20 years. You are to have 2 more children…your children with your wife, not adopted; your son needs siblings. I suggest you choose properly. Good luck my boy, choose a partner, a companion, a friend and a lover or you will not be a happy man. Don’t ever settle – you deserve more than that. Find yourself an angel.” The Samuelle legacy delivered in perfect French.

/////

“Hurry up” the tall blonde told the long haired brunette “before all this frozen purity and immaculateness disappears and we start the complaining like we usually do about the muddy melted snow. I can’t believe it is only 4:30 p.m. and it is this dark already and we still have to get the tree. ”

“You go, I am cold, tired and in no mood for such frivolity.” The brunette answered her friend. “I’ll go home. And by the way have yourself a merry little Christmas. You’re sure you don’t want to eat Christmas dinner with us tomorrow? I know Santa is leaving something under the tree for you tonight.”

“I’ve told you Carla, unless it is that Canadian actor…” Nikita said and in unison "I don’t want anything else.”

Carla laughed “Bah hum bug…Ms. Scrooge.” And then laughing. “Birkoff is going to be disappointed, he had requested a threesome in his letter to Santa”.

“Like I would give up my well guarded ‘virginity’ for a quick rump with you and your degenerate husband.” The friends laughed and Nikita added “I am saving myself for Roy…” wink.

The friends parted at the door of the coffee shop, a quaint locale in the heart of the city. A quick kiss on each cheek and one was off to rest and relax and the other to purchase the obligatory Christmas tree. Just a mere half a block from the entrance to the elementary school where the friends taught sat the coffee shop that had become their after school hang out.

So Carla went left almost running the two blocks to her marital abode and Nikita went right. Back to the school to retrieve the very old pick up truck that transported the blonde daily to and fro. She wanted to commune with winter so she walked at a very slow pace.

In her head she made plans of what to do with the Christmas vacation starting right now. She hardly knew anyone outside of her piers at the school and the thought of spending Christmas and New Years alone terrified her and in some ways made her feel that she belonged. Her parents were deceased, no siblings and certainly a very short history here in this city.

She had arrived from Australia a mere month before the start of the school year. She would have wanted to teach in a college but could only get a job teaching 1st grade. Her mother Roberta’s citizenship her only legacy. Her story simple and sans old baggage.

Nikita had knitted a white lamb’s wool sweater made especially for the man of her dreams. She had made a fine alabaster engraved humidor at her friend Carla’s woodshop class also for her trousseau and eventually for the man of her dreams. But the man of her dreams had not come again.

Her life in Australia was suddenly minus familial attachments so she left to seek her fortune, her future and her dreams somewhere else. She dragged her thoughts away from her lonely past and away from decisions she sometimes regretted – others she applauded. Now where was she – oh yeah the present.

Her plans included loads of rented movies, nice comfort food of some sort and a bottle of expensive wine she had been saving for that special someone that never returned. She walked up the stoop to the private school’s front door and peered through the glass window wondering were the janitor was. She heard a soft whimper and turned finding a scared boy she recognized as one of her students.

“Adam? Is that you?” She called out. The boy didn’t answer. “Well pick-a-boo I see you.” She joked; the boy started to laugh.

“Ms. Wirth perhaps you can let me call my home, my father never came to get me.” He said.

“And everyone departed and left you here?” She asked putting her hand around the first grader’s shoulders and leading him to the front door, handing him her cell phone.

“Yes ma’am, I couldn’t reach the pay phone to call my dad’s office.” He said.

“Do you know the number?” She asked guiding him inside the school.

“Yes, but I am not getting through.” He whined one more time.

“Don’t worry Adam, I’ll wait with you…and if he doesn’t come, you can come stay with me, we’ll figure something out.” Nikita said as she looked inside the school’s office finding it empty and dark.

“I am not worried Miss. You are here now.” The boy assured her, never letting go of the hand Nikita extended him.

////

Adam’s father phone lines were down due to the snowstorm. In any event Nikita made a decision and Adam agreed – they would leave Adam’s father a message at the home, the cell and the office’s voice mail, only thing that could be reached. The boy very apologetic and very mature for his age agreed to go home with his teacher. Being assured by the blonde that his father would appear at some point.

Nikita lived in a small house not far from the school. They stopped at the grocery store to get some items she needed. As she put the groceries in the back seat of the truck, Adam saw the quaintest Christmas tree yard and coerced the teacher into getting a tree there; not very tall but finely shaped. Adam chose it happily chatting amicably with his pretty teacher.

He explained about his dad and his grandparents and great grandparents. He told her about his mom and the decease that had taken her to heaven, where his dad assured him she was. They talked about books that amazingly the boy had read and about the three languages the boy was fluent in.

When they arrived at the house Adam smiled. It was charming and reminded him of the Hanzel and Grettel cottage. Nikita exclaimed that she felt it was more like the one from Snow White and Adam asked where the 7 dwarfs were then. Adam tried his father one more time. In the mean time the blonde woman pulled out from a cramped little closet under the stairs an old looking trunk full of treasures including her trousseau and also decorations and lights.

With Adam’s able assistance they started placing ornaments on the tree – some hand made, others paper, but all beautiful. This done after the woman strung white lights all around the tree. Adam told her of how two days earlier his father and him had done the same thing, but their tree was a tad bigger he had confessed. While Adam continued the tree decorating Nikita went to the kitchen to attend to their supper.

As with everyday she had prepared something in advance, except this time she had made it fancy for her Christmas eve dinner. A beautiful baked ham with pineapple and glaze, which was all but finished, sat in the oven. She decided mashed potatoes would be a nice accompaniment and after asking Adam learned that he would love a nice salad with that. It was now close to 6:00, so surreptitiously she turned on the television to check on the news while Adam helped her set the table. He insisted it be for three because he knew his father would be there at any time.

Ms. Wirth’s phone had rung, but it was such a bad connection; the two had decided it had to be Adam’s father returning their call. The caller id announcing an untraceable number. Adam explained that his father’s phone was always recorded as private. At 7:00 Nikita decided she should not wait any longer to feed the child and they sat down to eat.

During dinner Nikita had asked Adam what his father did for a living and the boy had answered with a smile, “He is Samuelle, Michael Samuelle.”

With such a suggestive, cryptic answer Nikita had let it drop. The boy did have a fertile imagination and probably felt abandoned right then. His tales were sometimes off the top - about castles, travels, unmeasurable wealth and famous people. They cleared the table, did the dishes and talked some more; then they played a game or two in Nikita’s X-Box.

He looked tired, was starting to get cranky and Nikita was starting to panic. She set up the couch in front of the fireplace and opposite the tree for the boy to sleep in. She assured him that he would wake up in the arms of his father and that he should rest. After reading a chapter or two of the latest Harry Potter book, the boy cuddled up to Nikita’s teddy bear and in his P.E. shorts and tee shirt, said a prayer and slept.

////

She heard a car drive up, slow down, pass the house as she changed into a pair of baby blue sweats, crew socks and an equally colored tee. The car turned around and finally stopped by her front porch. The brand new black convertible Thunderbird glimmered against the new fallen snow. Now the snow had stopped long enough for a black clad individual to step out of the car and arrive at her porch, knocking and opening the outside door. Soon thereafter the snowfall resumed.

Michael then approached the front door and could see his little son from where he stood, cuddled safely in the arms of a raged old bear. He smiled. Reflected on the mirror above the mantel a vision in powder blue – a blonde woman, hair piled up in a messy ponytail, dozing off in an armchair, book precariously dangling from her relaxed hands. She was truly magnificent and awfully familiar.

He knocked at the door after reveling in the sight – how long had it been since he had been able to enjoy such a ‘normal’ scene involving his son. How long had he dreamt of her. He had to increase his rapping for the blonde woman was deep into her dream. Her mouth slightly ajar, her lashes fanning on her high cheekbones, one of her crew sox dislodged from her beautiful red painted toenail feet. Her meaty lips were opened as she softly snored.

He knocked again, this time startling the blonde, who incorporated herself, looked around, smiled at a sleeping Adam and approached the door. Michael’s heart skipped a beat. There before him stood his angel, dressed in amusing clothing, but an angel nevertheless. She was half-asleep, didn’t seem to recognize him.

“Hi, I am Michael Samuelle, I believe you have something that belongs to me.” He tried to joke.

Nikita was not speaking, responding or doing much more than trying desperately to breath, straighten her messy hair, pull on her errand socks and suck in her non-existent gut. She wasn’t sure if Michael was all the things that Adam said he was, but as God was her witness she knew Michael was HOT!

“Err…I am sorry Mr. Samuelle, I am Nikita Wirth, Adam’s teacher.” She blurted out, a bit too loud not wanting to acknowledge him for fear he did not remember her. “Oh I am sorry I didn’t mean to wake Adam” then whispering “please come in, it must be cold out there.” She was babbling.

“Adam is hard to wake up, he is a sound sleeper. And thank you, it is freezing out here.” He said this walking to his son and placing a soft kiss to his cheek, the scene making Nikita swoon. He decided she didn’t recognize him and let this embarrassing moment pass. She swallowed loudly, not only was the man as gorgeous as she remembered, he still had the damn French accent. He kissed the beautiful little boy with great tenderness.

“I am sorry, I had to take a one hour plane trip on business and of course the weather moved in and I was stuck. I could not get through on the phones and my godparents, who were supposed to have been in town for the holidays, were themselves stranded at the airport in Paris. I don’t know how to thank you for taking care of Adam.”

“Please Mr. Samuelle, no need to apologize, I understand.” She said saucily, Michael was amused at the fact she had managed to let her hair down. She was truly beautiful. “Would you like something to drink…coffee, tea…or perhaps some dinner…Adam ate already but set a place for you…”

Michael smiled and having warmed his hands by the fire went to place one on his son’s little head. “I wouldn’t want to put you out any further…” Michael said when what Nikita wanted to hear was something more like ‘I have been searching for you, may I move in with you?’

“Non sense it would not be an inconvenience at all Mr. Samuelle.” Nikita said and sighed at the end.

He smiled. “Michael please…would you join me in at least a glass of wine?”

“Oh no I’ll eat with you, I was too nervous to eat before, thinking something had happened to you with the weather and all.” She was starting to relax; he had removed his long black overcoat. Having changed in the plane into the brown cable knit sweater and brown cords he now wore she thought he looked better than on their night. He looked like a Ken doll.

Helping her set the kitchen table, as to not disturb Adam’s sleep, they talked, laughed, shared experiences, ate and drank until 1:00 am. The snow had not let up. Michael had put more wood on the fire and had moved Adam to Nikita’s guest bedroom, at the woman’s request.

Michael had a car trunk full of gifts for Adam and it was obvious they were not going to be able to go home due to the weather, a decision was made to place them under the tree. Nikita moved quickly to gift-wrap the sweater she had knitted and the box she had carved and placed them under the tree so Michael would have something to open in the morning.

He had not noticed the tags with his name since he was busy moving electronic games, gadgets and other brightly colored gifts from the auto to the tree. While at the car trunk under a torrential snowfall, he smiled at the beautifully wrapped Tiffany boxes containing a diamond watch and diamond bracelet that he had bought for his girl friend Lisa.

“Lisa is not here…I’ll give her the car instead.” removed the gift tags and placed the aqua boxes under the tree along with Adam’s gifts.

/////

Michael noticed that his beautiful hostess was yawning, It was after 4:30 a.m. Michael and Nikita had been talking non stop about art and music, even politics and religion, amazed that their tastes ran so close. They had agreed, disagreed, respected each other’s positions, even changed each other’s minds.

“Ni-ki-ta” Michael said stoking the red embers and adding more wood to the fire. “Perhaps we should call it a night.”

“Michael I don’t want you sleeping out here because I don’t know how you will explain to Adam that you didn’t wake him up when Santa came.” Michael smiled and nodded in agreement. “The bed he is in is much too small – if you promise to behave you can lay down in my king sized one.”

She smiled and winked, mumbling before he could answer. “I assure you that I have to make that promise also.”

Michael chuckled, low and sensually “You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of pajama pants…believe me, clothing to sleep in is my assurance that I’ll behave.”

“I have a pair of sweat pants you might fit into, no shirt though…” She was sure she could find a tee shirt large enough for him, but wanted to see the chest she imagined being perfect.

“We do have a history of noisy lovemaking.” He said, resting his tall frame on the couch.

Nikita turned, her face beet red, facing him she said. “You remembered!” Tears rolled down her face.

“Who could forget?” He laughed and stood drying her tears with his fingers.

“Adam is here…” She shyly said.

“I am painfully aware of that…” He smiled and walking into the bathroom with the sweats and a top. “I’ll behave.”

She whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear. “I don’t know if I can.” But he heard her all right and smiled, he knew he would not.

///

Michael walked back into the room about 10 minutes later. He was wearing the drawstring sweats that hung low on his hips allowing the wisp of blondish hair to peer through. He was not wearing the shirt and his fine toned abs sent a ripple of sensation directly to Nikita’s center.

“It starts” she whispered and adjusted the shirt that covered her.

His chest was a Michelangelo statue, washboard abs that beseeched to be stroked. Perfect flat nipples that begged to be licked and long span of taut skin that pleaded to be felt under quickened strokes on the way to perfect culmination.

“No shirt?” She managed as he crawled from the foot of the bed to where her back rested against the headboard. She could see his plumbers smile reflected on the mirror as he made his way having separated her legs to open a trail to his object of desire.

“No.” Back to monosyllabic responses.

As the weight of his body rested on the sheet, the soft material moved lower and lower on the woman’s body. To his surprise she was wearing nothing. Her perfectly round breasts with their pink pointy nipples became obvious in an agonizing slow motion. He felt his mouth water at the sight.

“No shirt?” He asked, a devilishly delicious smile appearing on his lips.

“No.” She said purposely raising her arms to the headboard and holding on to scarves that she had draped from the bedposts. Her nakedness finally becoming obvious in an instant and forcing Michael to let out a growl.

His face was within inches of the weighty lobes that he coveted to taste. Her skin soft, rosy and entrancing; he could see the perfection of the woman’s fine breasts and as an infant looking for nourishment moved to lick, eyes shuttering briefly.

“May I?” He asked, voice hoarse from deep desire.

“Hmm.” She said as he licked again, this time the other one, her body writhing.

He sat on his feet; her lap still covered by the errand sheet. He tied the hands to the scarves and smiled. “Where was I?” and went back to licking the breasts.

Her blue eyes looked like the waters of a deep tranquil lagoon – what lay beneath, a furious need that threatened to explode to the surface. “Don’t be tender…I have needed you.”

“You have?” He said, playing idly with her nipples. Index fingers pushing the hard points in, while the tongue stroked and the lips started to suck hard.

“Hmm…bite me.” She asked, her hips moving searching for the pressure of his body.

He did, hard, pulling the nipple into this mouth, sucking hard; then the other breast fell victim of his desire, or her request. “Was that what you wanted?” One more time the sequence repeated, harder. “Tell me what you want?”

She was unconscious with need, but she managed a request as she wrapped her legs, sheet and all, around his waist. “Tie my feet…” impossibly deep voice full of lust. “And check the door.”

He, a bit put out, moved to check first on his son and then run to the room locking the door. He smiled when he entered the room and found her working the sheet in impossible ways to gain a bit of friction. In her lustful state she remembered reading somewhere that men loved to see women pleasure themselves.

“Hmm…” she was saying. “Do you want me to touch myself?”

“By all means, but not now…this is my privilege…we’ll play other games, other times.” He put her painted toes in his mouth and tied first one leg, then the other and then pulled the sheet to find her wearing a fur lined panty. “God Kita.” He said and moved quickly to wet the fur with his mouth, finding it already soaking wet.

“Tell me what you want?” He said “Tell me you have missed me?”

“I have…” she was struggling for his knee was putting pressure on her wet and slippery center. “I have dreamt about you. Ah…” he had hit a particularly good spot both with his knee and with his hands, his mouth busy kissing her neck and her chin.

“More?” He said moving a finger into the soaked panties. He was so hard his rod danced as if it had a mind of its own.

“Yes… Later” she was panting from the sensation “…when you are ready, can I watch you too…” this proved too much for a usually controlled Michael.

He pulled her down and lay on top of her, his Richard rubbing hard between her legs, the first of many orgasms achieve through a fur covered panty. “Tell me what you want.” He ordered, plucking at her nipples with his teeth.

“Fuck Michael…I want you in me now, hard, long strokes, be rough, make me cum because you want to feel my muscles milking you…please now.” She was crying, fussing like a needy child. He was moving to place two fingers in her wet channel and his tongue on the stone. Pressure just that, pumping fingers, flicking tongue. The panties still on.

“Take them off…” she screamed he worried for his son. “Don’t worry this room is super…soundproof, I am cuming…” Pump. “Oh God…” His mouth was all over her center, he was busy with teeth, tongue, lips and his fingers moving non stop. He was humping her leg, his hard pole rubbing hard against the knees. He himself was precariously close to climaxing so he stopped.

“What are you doing?” She whined. “Get back down there…plueezzee…Mykoll…” She was cuming.

He moved quickly, moved the panty and entered her. He shifted - slowly now, in out, his body hovering over her extended one. Their eyes fixed on each other. Her mouth open in totally bliss, he was biting his lower lip with the sheer control of not speeding up. Her head moved from side to side, her mouth a perfect circle, her breasts jumped with each smooth stroke.

“I am cuming Kita…cum with me, milk me hard.” He didn’t need to order this, the moment she felt his rod grow rigid her over sensitized insides exploded in orgasmic perfection. He collapsed on her kissing her mouth.

“Ms. Wirth?” Adam’s little voice called out from the other side of the door, his little fist knocking. “I heard my daddy’s voice.”

Michael sat up. “Wait Adam I am coming… Ms. Wirth is not in here.” He kissed Nikita and winked. Stood finding his corduroy pants and putting them on, throwing his sweater over his head. He opened the door a bit and picked up his son.

“Hey…good morning. Go put on the clothes I left on the chair in that room. I think Ms. Wirth is out in the lawn because she heard something.” Michael told his son, patting his behind and the child ran to his room. “Call me when you are finished, I’ll tie your shoes.”

Michael entered the room to find Nikita laughing quietly. “I wondered how I was going to escape my ties?” She whispered.

He approached her, took her clit in his mouth and brought her to one more powerful orgasm. “So you need me?” He said removing the ties.

“Frustrated are we?” His hard-on present.

“Nah…totally in need of more.” And as he stepped out of the room he whispered. “Don’t take off the fur panties…” -----

When Michael and Adam entered the kitchen chatting, Nikita had drank the milk and eaten half the cookie they had put out for Santa. She closed the door screaming into the darkness. “And Merry Christmas to you too Santa…and thanks.”

Adams dark eyes danced with joy and excitement. “Did you hear that Pappa?”

”I sure did my son…let’s see if he left anything under the tree?” Michael said and held his son’s hand. Looking at the beautiful woman enter the kitchen wearing a sweater – inside out and the pair of drawstring pants she had given Michael.

“Good morning Adam, Mr. Samuelle.” She smiled. “Santa was glad he found you Adam.” She said.

Adam saw the pile of gifts and ran to the tree, hearing Michael say. “Please call me Michael.”

“Let’s see…hey Pappa these are for you.” The boy said, surprising Michael.

“That Pappa Noelle is too much.” Nikita said.

“Indeed” Michael said moving to give her the aqua colored wrapped boxes. “These are for you.”

Her eyes filled with tears and he smiled, quickly looking at Adam and when he found him busy with his packages, robbing her of a kiss. She stood behind the couch, he moved behind her. His hard rod rubbing against the crack of her ass, he kissed her ear and whispered “Thank You.”

“For what you have not opened…hmm.” She whispered, the couch covering the transaction taking place.

His hand diving into the front of her drawstring pants to find no fur panties…”Where are they?” He whispered glad that the child was in hog heaven with the plethora of gifts.

She turned, now facing him and placed them in his hands. “I thought they belonged with you!” Brows raising as she moved to the boy…”Let’s see what you got Adam.”

She looked at the man bringing the panties to his mouth and then placing them in his pocket. He looked at Nikita with Adam on the floor trying to put together some electronic device and smiled. His heart leaped as he looked at his presents one more time. What more did he need, she had dreamt of him all these months.

“Oh my God.” She said as she opened her diamond watch and bracelet. “This is too much.” She whispered looking at him, crying.

Michael smiled a sad smile, he felt like a cad – these were not even purchased for her. He shuttered his eyes “I guess you have been a good girl.” He said, smiling now. “I would say a very good girl.”

He opened his gifts and was totally aroused again. When they had been together the first time, he had told her about his hopes and dreams. Nothing that could identify him, just a man asking and getting mundane things. He had told her he wanted a wool sweater and a box of cigars – simple everyday wish and she had listened. To be honest he could not remember if she had asked for anything at all – oh yes, a new car.

“These are beautiful Ni-ki-ta.” He said. “How could you possibly know? Adam please come here.”

Adam obeyed his father as Nikita continued putting the gadget together. Michael whispered something to the child and he nodded and winked. “Ms. Wirth, I think you should come with me outside.”

“Adam it is cold, you cannot ride your bike now, the snow is pilled 18 inches high.” She admonished, still puzzled by the gadget.

“Please I need to show you something.” The child insisted.

“Ok, what is it, put on a coat.” She said.

“Here…” Adam said handing her the keys. “I too am Santa’s helper.”

“What is this for?” She was confused.

“The car, see through the window, it is yours.” Adam said.

“No…no…that is your father’s car.” She said, turning to Michael.

“You said you needed a car, remember yesterday when the truck would not start. Well Pappa says Santa asked him to deliver it to you…that is why he was late yesterday…see there are no coincidences.” Adam said and looked at his father, “Right dad?”

“Absolutely Adam…we were meant to be here today.” Michael answered handing Nikita and Adam their coats.

///

When the trio tried to leave the house they were stopped by a sudden continuation of the blizzard. Michael suggested that the walk to the car would involve digging a couple of feet before they could even step outside. Adam who was in his father’s arms agreed and the blonde suggested breakfast.

The breakfast went as if they had been doing this forever. Michael cooked the omelet and ham. Nikita made toast and set the table in the dining room with Adam’s help. Michael insisted in saying a prayer and the conversation was animated and led by a very talkative Adam that was explaining the benefits of an X Box over a Nintendo system.

When the breakfast ended, it was only 9:00 and it was very dark outside. They picked up the dishes and put them in the dishwasher and moved to the living room to play Adam’s new electronic game. Nikita went to call Seymour and Carla who lived fairly close by, but the phones were still down. Michael’s cell phone did vibrate, he saw that it was Lisa Jones so he didn’t bother picking it up – she would leave a message.

“Who was that Pappa.” Both Adam and Nikita had noticed how Michael had looked at the caller I.D.

He decided not to lie there was going to be a lot of that soon enough – of this he was sure. “Lisa.” He answered, his eyes searching for Nikita’s who had obviously chosen not to look up.

“How can she call, aren’t the phones down?” Adam asked.

“Yes but she is at her fathers…I don’t know Adam, maybe the lines are up now…” Michael was upset. “Would you like to use my cell phone Nikita, it seems to be working.”

“No, don’t worry…” She said, she was chewing on her lower lip and trying really hard not to look at Michael.

Adam yawned since he had gone to sleep late the night before, woken up at 6:00 in the morning and was very tired with the emotions of the day so far. He asked his father. “Would you mind if I slept some more? I am tired.” A parents dream.

“Not at all Adam. We can’t go anywhere for a while and Ms. Wirth and I could use some sleep also.” Preparing to continue the tryst.

“Do you mind Ms. Wirth?” Adam asked yawning some more.

“No Adam…we didn’t get much sleep either last night. Tell you what, when we are not in school you can call me Nikita.” She told the boy as the three walked into her guestroom.

Nikita gave Michael and Adam privacy and walked towards her bathroom. She was miffed and a bit disappointed but she could hardly claim anything from this man. They had shared the most thrilling moments of her life – but that was all just moments. He walked into the bathroom holding a silver frame, inside it his note to her on their first encounter.

“Kita, you kept this.” He said, obvious emotion in his voice.

“Of course Michael, I didn’t know who you where, I wanted something that reminded me.” She said, tears down her face. “I had never done anything like that…I am…” She was taking off the diamonds.

“Stop, what are you doing?” He asked.

“I can’t take these, or the car…Michael you have a life, you obviously have Lisa…” She said.

“Stop Kita. I am not going to deny that I have a relationship with Lisa - that would be disingenuous on my part. But I have nothing exclusive with Lisa…there are others. You could not think I…I didn’t even know your name…I didn’t even know you…I do now…give me time…” He was desperate, trying to stop the onslaught of inexplicable emotions.

“What do you need time for?” She asked confused. “I don’t expect anything…”

“You should, you should expect a lot, for you deserve a lot. Please come sit down with me, let’s talk… I have a problem I was presented with today…” He said.

She moved them to the room and sat on the bed. He pulled a chaise close to the bed and sat across from her, didn’t want to be distracted. What was she going to think of him, of his family?

“Kita…err…I grew up under my paternal Grandfather’s care. My parents and Grandmother died in a car accident. My mother’s parents were already dead. My family consisted only of my Grandfather and myself and he passed away a year ago. Yesterday I was at Lisa father’s law firm for the reading of the will. My family has great wealth and my grandfather left me this wealth as long as I…” Michael stood and paced. “I…get married within 30 days, well 29 now…”

She looked at him with those tender blue eyes that melted his heart. She was confused, her heart was pounding, didn’t understand why he was hesitating. “Michael I…”

“Kita, what I am going to ask you is going to alter our relationship forever.” He said and got on one knee. “Will you be my wife?”

Nikita placed her hands on her face and started to laugh…out loud. “What?” She was overwhelmed with emotion.

“W…” He sat up on the chaise, had not expected her laughter.

“Michael I always thought that I would marry for love. I am wild about you, but I can’t say I love you…” She answered, knowing she was lying.

“I am aware of this Ni-ki-ta. Of all the women I have had relations with you are the only one I would ask to share my life with.” He said.

“I mean…you make it sound so clinical…so transactional…” She said and laughed again. “How many?”

“About 30 billion dollars.” He answered, playing with his chin.

“No, not how much money. How many women?” She smiled seductively.

“Not 30 billion.” He smiled. “Kita, let me clarify, I don’t need the money, my mother’s family left me plenty. But this is my father’s legacy…my Granpere used to say that our art was to make money, I have to do what my Grandfather wanted, do you understand?”

“Michael I think I have $300 in the bank. I doubt that I will understand the art of making money anytime soon.” And standing to close the door, “Can we get to know each other a little better?”

“Of course…but I think this is a part of our lives that we have mastered…” Michael stood and moved towards her. He still had loads to reveal to the woman that made his spirit sore, and he was sure the transaction as she had put it, was not going to go so smooth.

Nikita wanted to guard herself. She was afraid of the heat of this passion fizzling. She didn't think she could take the disappointment. “Any other goodies you care to share?” She asked.

“We have to stay married for at least 20 years and have children of our own.” He said kissing her neck.

“Then by all means…let’s practice.” She joked, “I bet there is much more.”

///

Michael started his magic show with a quick shy smile and by removing her clothes. “You have not answered my proposal…and it is a proposal…” He kissed her throat again, lifting her hair by stroking his hand through the back of her neck, “Not a business negotiation or proposition.”

“Let’s see…oh my…” Being robbed of her breath, “…how you perform?” She purred.

“Are we playing hard to get?” He asked, one index finger running the length of her sternum, then he turned her still against the door and ran the same finger, slowly down the length of her spine.

“Myk…” She was going to whimper, to ask him to hurry, but couldn’t, his hot mouth kissing the exposed neck, her arms over her head by her own accord being raked by his neat nails.

“Let me convince you that I plan to make your life…tingle.” Michael said as he fastened his mouth on one earlobe.

“Pluueezzee…” She supplicated when Michael stopped suddenly.

“I think someone is banging on your front door.” He whispered, “Are you expecting company?”

“Uh?” She was far-gone; he turned her to face him. “The other one, kiss the other ear.” She commanded.

“No Kita, we need to answer the door.” Michael said taking a big breath and exhaling slowly, green passion filled eyes closed for an instance.

“The door…who could have come with the snow storm?” She asked confused.

“Maybe your boyfriend…” continuing the assault on her neck, while he could hear the front door open. “Tell him you are mine.”

“Hello Nik?” A male voice called from the door. Nikita displayed a quizzical look and Michael raised his eyebrows nodding knowingly, like saying – there he is. He helped her dress and fixed his dislodged clothing.

“Mine!” He whispered as he delved his tongue in her ear and sucked the lobe.

They entered the living room hand in hand, Michael in front to protect Nikita from the intruder. “Hello…oh Nik are you alright?” Seymour Birkoff asked, key in hand and a bit embarrassed. “Err…Mr. Samuelle, I am a friend of Nikita’s…I also work for your MIS department.” Birkoff said, pissing Michael off for he felt threatened by the young man. Who was this ‘friend’ who had a key. They shook hands as Carla rushed in covered in snow.

“Whose car is that Nik… Oh wow!” The brunette said smiling wide when faced with the gorgeous man. “I am Carla Birkoff, Nikita’s best friend…well obviously not as close a friend as you…” She said laughing nervously at the man who held her friends hands. Turning to Nikita to complete her standup routine she mouthed. “Your sweater is inside out…” then “I see Santa was very good to you!” Winking at the handsome man who had relaxed with the knowledge that Birkoff was married and not a threat.

“Michael Samuelle, enchante.” Bowing kissing her hand.

“…You are my husband’s boss?” Carla said.

Michael nodded “Apparently.”

Nikita was beaming, “Carla, Michael is Adam Samuelle’s father.” And then to Michael “Carla is Adam’s art teacher.”

Michael nodded at the woman and smiled his disarming smile. Then he asked Seymour, “Tell me again where it is that you work?” And the men started a conversation as they moved towards the X Box.

Carla put an arm around her friend and whispered. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Nikita smiled, “No” and moved towards the kitchen turning her sweater inside out.

“Tell me he is real. God Nik he is gorgeous.” Carla said.

“He is isn’t he?” Nikita said hugging her friend like a teenager, “And he has asked me to marry him.”

“Wow Nelly…how long have you known him?” Carla asked concerned.

Nikita didn’t want to go into the entire story so she gave her friend enough information to keep her happy. “For a little over a year…look my Christmas present.” And showed the brunette her diamonds.

“Holy Shit Nik.” And then looking into her friends clear blue eyes. “And you answered…?”

“Not yet…I didn’t answer yet…” Nikita said putting more coffee on to brew.

“But…” Carla complained.

“I don’t know.” Nikita honestly answered. “Could this be love?”

“Love, lust, who cares…are you mad woman. What is there not to love about this guy?” She asked.

“I want to be in love.” Nikita said sitting down, a bit cross.

“Does he take your breath away, do you miss him when he is not here?” The blonde was nodding. “Do you think about things he does, says?”

Nikita could honestly answer, “Yes.”

“He is obviously gorgeous and refined; has great taste and likes you enough to ask you to marry him – can you imagine how many women must be after him?” Carla was going on watching Michael play a game with Birkoff, relaxed enjoying himself. “Is he good in bed?”

“Carla!” Nikita said hushing her friend.

“I bet he rocks your world. Hell, I love my husband, and still your boy there makes me…” Carla was interrupted by Adam’s little voice.

“Hello Ms. Birkoff…Niki…sorry Ms. Wirth, were is my daddy.” The boy rubbed his eyes with both little fists.

“Hey Adam, I think that when we are out of school you can call me Carla, just as you can call her Nikita.” Carla said, kneeling to the boy’s height. “Your dad and my husband are playing with your X Box. Go in there and help my husband, I hear your father is winning.”

“Merry Christmas Ms. Carla, Merry Christmas.” Adam said as he skipped to the living room.

“Well?” Carla insisted.

“Rocks my world is the understatement of the year. He tends to read my mind.” Nikita giggled with her girlfriend.

“Then what the hell are you waiting for…didn’t you want the Canadian actor under the tree…you got what you asked for and more…” Carla said hugging her friend.

Seymour approached the friends. “Now I can see why you turned me down for that threesome.” He winked, “Although this display of… womanly love turns me on also.”

Both women reprimanded the young man and laughed out loud. “Birkoff.” With Carla adding “Watch your mouth.”

Seymour said, “Yes ma’am. By the way Adam and I want milk.” Then whispering, looking to Michael who was wrestling with his laughing son. “…He has offered me another position – Carla…we are moving on up.” Birkoff danced a little jig.

“See Nik…the man is a winner.” Carla said moving to hug her husband and scream “Thanks Michael, for whatever it’s worth – I am on your side.”

“Merci.” Michael yelled back, “See Kita…”

Nikita interrupted laughing, “It is a conspiracy.”

Birkoff moved to the living room with the glasses of milk. Carla and Nikita were carrying the coffee and some cream and pastry.

“Nikita” Carla stopped her friend. “Don’t let your judgement be clouded…your heart will tell you what is best, it always has.”

/////

Michael was sitting on the couch holding a control for the game the men were playing. When Nikita re-entered the room carrying the coffee, the handsome man paused the game and pulled her to his lap. “For Luck.” He told Adam.

“That’s not fair.” Adam said.

“And why is that?” Nikita asked the young boy who was beating the two grown men, fair and square.

“Because I don’t have a good luck charm!” Adam pouted.

“I’ll sit on your lap instead.” Nikita mocked.

“Nah…you’ll crush me…and anyway I am winning.” He told the blonde and all the grown ups laughed. “Pappa, that is called skill…”

“Adam, I think it is called ‘you have been playing too much of this game…’” Birkoff said.

“My exact thoughts.” Michael said.

“Sore losers.” Nikita said moving ever so gently against Michael’s aroused lap.

“Don’t” he whispered, lifting his eyebrows. “Or we will have to leave the room.”

She laughed and watched as Michael’s last man fell, ‘Game Over’ flashing on the screen.

“Thanks Nikita, some good luck charm you are.” Adam quipped.

“Adam…don’t be fresh.” Michael warned softly.

“I was just kidding… I am sorry…” Adam told the blonde, hugging her and whispering “But anyway thanks.”

Michael smiled, if his son only knew that her entrance to the room had been the end of his attention to the game. And when she had sat on his lap – that was it, the game had been called on account of ‘arousal’.

“The snow has let up.” Birkoff said, “Do you think we could go outside and try to clean up the walkway?”

“Birkoff is my landlord Michael.” Nikita said. “They live very close by. So I vote that he shovels the walkway”

“Good for you Birkoff, no Kita that is not fair.” Michael said. “I’ll help.”

“Hey Birkoff is not a fair landlord either.” Laughing. “Do you know how long it took for him to paint that door?” She asked.

Everyone laughed as the men put on their coats and gloves to go work on the snow. “Can I play in the snow Pappa?” Adam asked.

“How about helping with the shoveling Adam?” Michael asked his son.

“Isn’t that answering a question with a question Ms. Wirth?” Adams asked his teacher.

“Exactly Adam…good job.” Nikita smiled.

“In any event, if you come outside you have to help.” Michael patted his son’s little head.

As Carla, Seymour and Adam walked out the door Nikita and Michael stayed behind for a second. He could read concern in her eyes and wondered what was wrong. He scrunched down so his green eyes were directly in contact with her blue ones. “Is there something wrong?” Michael asked.

“No, I was just looking for something – anything, that would stop me from falling for you.” She seriously said.

“And…what did you find.” He asked smiling.

“…Your butt Michael is too perfect…” She pinched him hard, a hand full of corduroy.

“I can work on that…” He smiled broadly.

“I would think so.” She said putting on her scarf and winking at him before she walked out.

Michael followed her putting on his gloves. He stood close to her and whispered. “So?”

Nikita was removing the snow from the car; she was smiling at Michael not answering. He started to move between Nikita and the car so his butt rubbed against her front, this done purposely. “So? What kind of a question is that?”

“A good one” he said still moving his ass back and forth, she was standing still. “I always ask good questions.” He said.

“Wait. May I talk to Adam about this?” Nikita said.

“But of course.” Michael answered, kissed her briefly and separated from her. He called his son who was making a snowman with Carla while Birkoff started up the snowplow to quickly clean the walk.

“Adam, what would you think if I asked Nikita to marry me?” Michael who had picked up his son asked.

“That she would be my new mom?” Adam answered.

“That is right Adam, would you mind if I said yes?” Nikita said.

“Au contraire, I would love to have a mother and you are a great teacher.” Adam answered matter of factly and wiggled to be let down and go back to the snowman. As he moved away from the couple he called out “…oh and you make my Pappa smile all the time…what’s up with that?”

Michael laughed and turning to Nikita he said. “So?”

“Yes…” She smiled. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“See that wasn’t so hard.” Michael said embracing her and kissing her lustfully. Then they told Carla and Seymour and of course Adam who all embraced the couple.

“Does that mean you are going to be my mother and my teacher?” Adam asked.

“No Adam, I’ll just be your mom.” Nikita knew she would have to stop teaching – if she wanted to.

///

A couple of hours had passed and the friends had gone home. The enormous yellow plows belonging to the City had cleared main streets and worked arduously on clearing the less traveled ones. The previously icy roads now covered with a fine blanket of salt, the sidewalks piled with mounds of the now dirty mess. The traffic almost non-existent, only those who needed to travel were expected to transverse the roads.

Michael was one of those. They had said goodbye with melodious words and even warmer embraces. No ‘I love you(s)’ had been exchanged for at this point that would probably be a lie, but the comfort of the words was implied. They had discussed her Christmas gifts.

“So…who where these for?” She said dangling her diamonds in front of his handsome face.

“Some woman…” he had said toying with her bottom lip. “A…”

She interrupted laughing; “A very good lay…”

“Not as good as you… that is why you got the gifts.” He had answered and she had started tickling him, they were lying on the couch.

“Seriously Michael, this is quite extravagant for just a casual acquaintance.” She said.

“Kita…I am rich, all my gifts are extravagant. I have other gifts for other women under the tree; these were just a last minute purchase before I went into the attorney’s office. Actually I had forgotten about Lisa – that is her name – and since her father is the lawyer I remembered her as I drove in front of Tiffany’s.”

“I see…when you return from your house, bring all the other gifts.” She said laughing.

“I will my sweet…hey there is even a sable coat for someone…with great manual strength.” He laughed. So as payment for the gifts to come, she gave him a quiet hand job… after all Adam was in the next room.

----

As Michael drove he wondered why he was so totally content with his choice of bride. He knew many women; he’d dated many more and he could not think of one that he would want to spend the rest of his life with – or at least the next 20 years.

He wondered what it was about Nikita that did this to him. When he had left his attorney’s office he had pondered the possibilities and had decided that he would have to look for a new woman to marry, for none of his prospects were agreeable. If he had wanted to marry any of the women he dated, he would have asked them long before.

None stood out as a contender; none would make a good mother for Adam, a good mate for him. So his choice had been made way before Nikita had reappeared in his life. Nikita and Michael’s past had crossed for a reason and Michael wondered if it was not to captivate him with her j’nais ce quoi.

For it was not the sex that attracted him, although she was without a doubt the most perfect coupling he had ever shared. It was not her disposition, her attention to detail, her incredible looks or the culture they shared. It was not her personality, her humor or her joie de vies and Michael smiled.

It was a combination of it all; it was the essence of Nikita that was starting to permeate his life, like the warmth of her skin against his. She was a need; a weakness that was surging through his otherwise controlled and organized reality. He was glad his Grandfather had caveat the marriage into the Will and looking up at the frozen heavens, he thanked the old man for once more loving him so.

----

The newly engaged couple had agreed that Adam would stay with the bride-to-be for his father didn’t want him out on the road in conditions such as these. Nikita bit her lip in anticipation waiting for her handsome fiancé to call her and let her know he was all right. Adam noticed her nervousness; left the game he was playing and asked Nikita to read more Harry Potter with him.

Michael needed to call the women in his life and tell them that he was getting married and Nikita understood he needed to do this in the privacy of his own cocoon, where he felt right. She had smiled maliciously and asked “All 30 billion?” when he had told her he needed to spread the word that he was off the market. And as Adam had said Michael smiled.

Nikita had not been candid before, she could have answered ‘yes’ even before he asked her to marry him. She had fallen in love with Michael that first time when they had shared a night of indistinguishable passion and perfection. All these months she had wondered where he was, what he was doing, who was he with? She never doubted who he was, she knew he was a good man and that was all she needed to know to love him.

When the phone rang, it was Michael and all was well. He had arrived at home and would do what needed to be done and then would return to Adam and Nikita as soon as possible. He promised he would bring her all her newly deserved gifts. She had decided to tell him how she felt, letting down her guard – it was much too late for games.

“I lied.” She said coquettishly.

His heart stopped for a beat, his smile dissolving. “About what?”

“About my answer.” She cryptically said without meaning to, as she searched for the right words.

“Oh, you’ve…changed your mind?” He asked having trouble breathing.

“No, No!” She almost yelled. “I… have loved you since our first meeting. I have thought of nothing but you…I just didn’t want to be hurt. I believe in miracles again because of you…I just wanted to say that I do love you and that I am extremely happy of becoming your wife.” Nothing from Michael while fear enveloped her. “Are you still there.”

“Yes…Kita.” A tear drifted slowly down his handsome face, he had just realized he loved Nikita. “I know now that I have always loved you also…even before we met.”

The lovers had spoken for a while longer confessions stringing out of their full hearts. When they hung up the phone with sweeter good-byes, he sat in his massive library for a moment of contemplation. The staff had the day off; it was Christmas after all.

Michael dosed off, the wild night of unexpected passion, the angst of the lawyer’s visit compiled with the tension of driving to his estate under dangerous conditions exhausting. He dreamed of a life filled with joy, of enjoying his wealth in a meaningful way, of one woman with flaxen hair and two daughters who looked just like her. He dreamed of Adam, his happy son romping happily in a beach somewhere and then he was startled out of his reverie by the ringing of the cell phone.

“Oui.” Michael answered his voice soft full of sleep.

“Michael?” It was Lisa Jones; Michael incorporated himself on the couch. “Is that you?”

“Oui. Hello Lisa.” He said curtly.

“Merry Christmas my love.” She quipped.

“I need to speak to you in person, there is someone I want you to meet.” He answered, more abbreviatedly than before. The thought of having to go through this with the countless of women he dated made him sick.

“Well, I am glad you need to speak with me because I need to speak to you…I have a problem…I…am almost at your house.” Lisa was stuttering, her little girl act always annoying Michael.

“Lisa…I can’t see you right now. Have you spoken with your father?” He asked angrily.

“Of course I have spoken with my father, I was with him until a few hours ago.” She asked. “Why?”

“Has he told you about my Grandfather’s will?” Michael asked bluntly.

“Absolutely not. He is a professional Michael. I am sure there is some kind of privilege of confidentiality, why do you ask? She lied, of course her father had filled her in.

“Never mind, I am in a hurry Lisa, what do you need to say to me?” He asked.

“Michael I am a few blocks away, please let me come see you… I… am pregnant.” She blurted out and paused. “And it is yours.”

A long silence from the controlled man. He had been walking around with the portable phone while he gathered what he needed to take back to Nikita and he almost fell down. Holding on to the side of Adam’s closet door he closed his eyes and leaned on the door. Destiny could not be this cruel.

“Lisa…I know that you date other men…how can you be sure?” He said.

“I am insulted, how can you think that I would say it was yours if it wasn’t?” She asked, no holds barred Michael was a hunk, a hunk with $30 billion and a necessity to marry.

“I don’t know Lisa…I am sorry, how far along are you?” He asked.

“Wait I am almost at your house, we’ll talk then.” She said, needing time to figure out when was the last time she had been with Michael. “The streets are a bit precarious, I need to…”

“I understand, I’ll see you in a bit. But Lisa…” Michael said. “For whatever it is worth, I am getting married in two weeks…I will do what you want me to, but marrying you is out of the question.”

Lisa hung up the phone, pretending she had not heard that last statement. She needed to do something; he was not going to escape her greedy hands. “Shit, how the hell can I be too late, he found out about the marriage thing yesterday afternoon…” She slammed on the breaks to avoid a parked car and swerved hitting the iron gate in front of Michael’s estate.

Michael’s neighbor who had been walking the dog witnessed the incident. The man was a doctor and came running to check on the obviously injured driver. She was semi-conscious. She asked him to call Michael and the man did.

“Oui.” Michael answered thinking it was Lisa again.

“Michael, this is “Chris, Dr. Chris Davenport.” He said.

“Merry Christmas Chris, what can I do for you?” Michael asked.

“There is a woman in a blue Mercedes coupe who just had an accident against your fence. I have called 911, but…” Michael interrupted jumping on his bike and driving down the heated driveway.

“Lisa, Lisa…” Michael was trying to rouse the woman.

“She was up a few minutes ago, a bit banged up but nothing major…I guess the cold made her pass out.” The doctor said as the ambulance arrived.

“She is pregnant.” Michael told the doctor and the EMT.