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  Morgan struggled to hide her disappointment at Parker’s distance. “I waited for you. I’ll order something for both of us.”

  “Great, thanks.” Parker disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later, Morgan heard the shower running. She picked up a phone and ordered a festive meal she had no appetite for. While she waited for dinner to be delivered, she sprawled on the couch and closed her eyes.

  “Baby, dinner’s here.”

  Morgan looked up to see Parker, wearing an animal print robe, steering a service cart across the room. She yawned large and shook herself awake. She must have fallen asleep; she hadn’t even heard the knock on the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snooze.” She noticed Parker’s bare feet. Her hair was still damp. “Did you answer the door like that?”

  “Yep. I think he slipped us some extra condiments. I should flash my robe more often.”

  “Tease.”

  “You got it.”

  Morgan felt a rush of want. She scooted over on the sofa. “As long as you’re giving it away, I have first dibs. Come sit by me.”

  “In a minute.” Parker extended her hand. “Come here. I have a surprise for you.”

  Morgan placed her hand in Parker’s and followed her to the bedroom. She immediately noticed the addition. On the nightstand closest to her side of the bed a tiny rosemary bush, shaped to look like a Christmas tree and decked with tiny white lights and miniature multicolored glass ornaments, lit up the corner of the room. Beneath the boughs was a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper.

  “I see someone did something more than studying today.”

  “Guilty. Kelsey insisted on a shopping trip. She said waiting until Christmas Eve was suicidal at best.”

  “So you went by the house today?” Morgan waited for a mention of Parker having spotted her.

  “Yeah, I needed to pick up some clothes.” Parker pointed at the box. “Aren’t you even going to shake your present?”

  Morgan scoured Parker’s face for hints of realization until she was satisfied none were there. Maybe Parker hadn’t seen her with Aimee after all. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m highly interested in what’s in that box, but,” she tugged at the tie on Parker’s robe, “I’m focused on unwrapping this present first.”

  “It’s just a little something. A token of my affection.”

  “It may be small, but I recall it creating quite a stir last night.” Morgan continued her efforts to disrobe her lover until Parker stilled her hands.

  “I’m talking about the present. Under the tree.”

  “Oh, that present.”

  “Be serious, Morgan. I’m warning you, it’s not much, so don’t go buying me something extravagant for Christmas.” Parker’s expression became earnest. “Promise me.”

  Morgan’s stomach clenched with guilt. If only Parker had known what she’d been doing all afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to do anything that might wreck their newfound love. She decided extravagance was a matter of perception. “I promise.”

  *

  The next morning, faced with the prospect of another long, lonely day of studying without even a dreaded shopping trip to break the monotony, Parker found it even harder to get out of bed. She rolled toward the middle of the king-sized bed, and was surprised to find Morgan missing. She forced her eyes open and slowly focused on a sharply dressed woman brushing her hair.

  “And here I was, thinking about playing hooky. Where are you going, looking like a lawyer?”

  Morgan glanced over her shoulder. Parker was adorable, wrapped in the sheets. She wanted to toss her hairbrush down and join her under the covers. “I have a little shopping of my own to do.”

  “You look more like a working woman than a shopping one.”

  “I may run by the office and take care of a few things before everyone shuts down for the holiday.”

  “What if I came by and did my studying there?”

  “Well, you could, but I only planned to be there for a few minutes,” Morgan said, hoping to dissuade her. If Parker spent the day at the office, she would be too distracted to focus on what she had planned.

  “So, you’re wearing your hottest suit on the off chance a wealthy new client happens to drop by at the same moment you happen to be there?”

  Morgan knew Parker was teasing, that the undercurrent of guilt was entirely self-inflicted, but she couldn’t ignore the feeling. Not that it mattered. She had an appointment she couldn’t miss, and taking Parker along wasn’t part of her plan.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “I have a meeting outside the office.” She thought quickly, making a mental note to place a couple of calls as soon as she was out of Parker’s presence. “Remember, we’re meeting for dinner. How about we make it an early one?”

  “Sure. Here at the hotel?”

  “Actually, I was thinking I would pick up a dinner for two from Central Market, and we could eat at your place.”

  Parker scrunched her brow. “My place? Oh, you mean Kelsey’s house.”

  “You look disappointed.”

  “I guess I imagined a romantic dinner for two.”

  “We can light lots of candles and have a picnic in your room. It’ll be like the first time we were together.”

  “Except there was no food at that particular picnic.”

  “I don’t recall going hungry,” Morgan purred.

  Parker smiled at Morgan’s sexy expression and decided a romantic dinner in her room at the house where she’d first made love to Morgan would be the perfect end to a boring day of studying. “Meet you back here at six?”

  “Perfect.” Morgan paused on her way to the door. “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  *

  Morgan flinched when the door to Kelsey’s house flew open before Parker could fit her key in the lock. She shrugged when Parker shot a surprised look her way.

  Kelsey spoke first. “Hey, you two. My shift changed, but don’t worry, I have plans, but not here. I had to take care of a couple of things before heading out.” She waved them in. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  Parker walked into the living room, but Morgan hung back. She whispered in Kelsey’s ear, “Are you alone?”

  Kelsey answered quietly. “Nope. She was running late. You’re going to have some explaining to do.”

  Morgan rushed to catch up to Parker. She found her lover in the living room, standing in front of Aimee Howard. Parker wore a puzzled expression and Aimee looked like she wanted to vaporize herself.

  Parker placed the grocery bag on the coffee table and shoved a hand toward Aimee. “Parker Casey, nice to meet you.” Morgan approached them and took over the introductions.

  “Parker, this is a friend of mine, Aimee Howard.” Morgan watched Parker’s expression slowly morph from puzzled to perturbed.

  Parker pointed at Aimee. “Wait a minute, I know you.” She turned back to Morgan. “Didn’t you two date? What’s she doing here?” Parker swung around and delivered a piercing stare in Kelsey’s direction. “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?”

  Kelsey was the first to speak. “Aimee and I were just leaving.” She grabbed Aimee’s hand and pulled her toward the door. Aimee dropped a large white envelope on the coffee table as she passed by. Kelsey paused long enough to look Parker squarely in the eye. “Morgan bought you the perfect Christmas gift. Get her to show it to you.”

  Parker flinched at the crack of the slamming door. She looked at Morgan.

  “I can explain.”

  Parker raised her eyebrows.

  “We didn’t date. Well, not really. She’s my realtor. I briefly considered dating her, before you and I…well, when you and I were still trying to figure out what we wanted from each other. There was no spark between us. I mean between her and me. She’s my realtor.” Morgan, who was paid handsomely for her ability to persuade, found herself unable to stop babbling.

  Parker placed a finger on Morgan’s lips. “Shh.” She grasped Morga
n’s hand, led her to the couch, and settled in beside her. “It’s okay. I was disappointed, but mostly because I expected us to be alone and it was disconcerting to see her again, especially here. I’m not jealous. I wonder if she’s dating Kelsey. Sure looks that way.”

  Morgan decided this wasn’t the time to correct Parker’s assumption. “We’re alone now.”

  Parker made a show of looking around. “You sure? Your accountant or banker isn’t lurking around here, too?”

  Morgan punched Parker in the ribs. “You’re funny.” She cuddled close. “Dinner first or presents?”

  “Sounds like someone wants her present.”

  “More like I want to see your face when you open yours.”

  Parker shook her head. “Morgan, I thought we agreed. Nothing extravagant.”

  Morgan waved her arm. “You see anything extravagant here?” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper. She shook it. “Doesn’t sound like much to me.”

  “Hey, where did you get that?” Parker reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an identical package.

  “The store.” Morgan grinned and shoved the box toward Parker. “Open it.”

  Parker traded packages with Morgan. “You first.”

  Morgan didn’t hesitate. She tore through the wrapping. After a quick “oh yeah” when she saw the box, she opened the lid. “Parker, it’s beautiful.” She held up the lone key it held. “What’s this?”

  “I made a copy of the office key. I thought you’d like a brand-new fancy key ring for our brand-new office. It’s an eternal circle. You like?”

  “I love.” Morgan tapped the other package. “Your turn.”

  As Parker pulled back the wrapping, Morgan reached for the envelope Aimee had left behind. She held it and waited.

  “This box looks very familiar.” Parker held a pale blue Tiffany’s box. She lifted the lid and pulled out a key ring, identical to the one she’d given Morgan. She smiled. “Obviously, I love the key ring. You have great taste.” Parker examined the single key. “What does this open?”

  “Part two of your gift.” Morgan handed Parker the envelope. “Here’s the rest of your present.” Parker opened the flap and pulled out a sheaf of papers. She was used to reading legalese, but it still took her a moment to take in what she was holding in her hand. Deed of Trust.

  “You bought me a house?”

  “Well, kind of. I bought us a house.” Morgan pointed to the key in Parker’s hand. “I have a key, too. The key ring was Kelsey’s idea.”

  “She was with me when I bought your present. That girl can’t keep a secret.”

  “I don’t know about that. She helped me with both parts of your present.”

  “How did she—wait a minute…” Parker looked back at the papers and read past the first few lines. She read her name next to Morgan’s, and a property description that contained a very familiar address. “You bought this house? Kelsey’s house?”

  “You love it, you’re too busy to look for a new place, and your stuff’s already here. Kelsey wants to downsize. It seems like the perfect solution. I’m cheating in a way, since we’ll both be working our tails off to maintain it, but I hope you don’t mind. Merry Christmas, baby.” Morgan waited anxiously for Parker’s reaction.

  Parker held the papers to her chest. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love you.” She dangled the key in front of Morgan’s eyes. “But just so you know, our love is the only key I need.”

  Nestled in the foothills of the Berkshires, Bobbi Marolt happily writes, constantly thinks “what’s next?” for her work, and strives for a difference with each of her stories. Her first Bold Strokes publication is Between the Lines, a romance. “Merry Christmas from Down Under” is her first short story and introduces Marty Jamison and Liz Chandler. They will make their full-story debut when Marty and Liz star under the neon lights of Broadway in Loving Liz, due in 2011. Meanwhile, they wish you a Merry Christmas!

  Merry Christmas from Down Under

  Bobbi Marolt

  It’s Christmas Eve in the Big Apple. Snow falls quietly and carolers crowd street corners that aren’t already manned by the Salvation Army cauldrons. Somewhere, chestnuts roast and children dream of morning’s presents.

  It’s all good, or so I hear. I don’t get to experience holidays in the same way regular New Yorkers do, although I often wish I could do a little figure-skating at Rockefeller Center. Not one to participate outside of my humble dwelling, I do hear all things, which helps set my moods. Songs of Santa and Rudolph fill the air, and I especially like when Marty sings “Silver Bells.” This Christmas is especially thrilling for me, but first things first.

  I must apologize. I’m not from Australia. Although the temperature outside fluctuates between hot and bitter cold, my climate averages 98.6 degrees and is continually damp. I nestle within soft folds of flesh that keep me well hidden and protected from the world, and I’m subject only to the touch of someone special and to that of my owner, Marty Jamison. I’m Marty’s clitoris. I have a date on this eve filled with joy and giving, and you’ll hear more about that soon. I think it’s appropriate that I tell you some things about Marty and me first.

  Few have met me, and that isn’t always a lonely existence. When Marty’s single, she gives me the attention I need. Marty has a gentle touch and understands how much I hate the tumultuous flesh burn and ungodly buzz of a vibrator. Marty treats me with slow massage and a cute little side-to-side ride with her hips. It’s fun for both of us. I’m not particularly needy, but there are times when Marty’s anxious hormones find their way to me.

  You see, Marty is a stage actor, singer, and dancer. It isn’t uncommon for her to excite me while she’s onstage strutting and teasing the general public. Her audience isn’t aware, but while she’s giving up the goods with a song or dance, Marty sexes me up with constant leg motion that stirs and awakens me. Her randy little hormones surround and tease me, and I make my desire known by pinging her with a constant rhythm of delicate throbs. Sometimes I think she deliberately teases me when she tightens her legs and swings her hips side to side. Those hips simply are not limited to the delight of the audience. I can say that with knowledge because Marty always gives me a little lovin’ when we’re home again.

  Well and good, but also boring at times. Nothing beats the touch of another woman who loves Marty and treats me with some of the happiest moments of my life. I mean, if that touch is all I have, I deserve the best. A gentle glide from a woman’s lips, a warm blanket from her tongue, oh yeah, those things I do miss. Now Marty, she doesn’t sleep around, and I can appreciate that choice because…well…you know the old question: “Where were those fingers last?” I shudder to think. It had been two years before another woman piqued our interest, and Marty’s new lover is my date tonight. She’s the someone special I mentioned earlier.

  Her name is Elizabeth Chandler, Liz for short. God, just saying her name makes me take a breath of contentment and yeah, I quiver. I like Liz.

  Liz arrived in Marty’s life about four months ago. Although I had doubts about her initially, I couldn’t help but do a little happy dance every time Liz came near Marty. To show my delight, I gave Marty a little nudge now and then, just to let her know I was interested in Liz. Marty, she waited. I throbbed while she waited. And waited. And waited.

  Marty nearly killed me with her no-rush policy, and I firmly decided the hell with that attitude. I put up a fight for Liz. I knew what I wanted and made sure I got it more readily than Marty would have normally liked. In one sense, though, I give Marty credit. I feel good about having to wait, even for the slightest amount of time, because Marty thought with her brain and didn’t give me full control. Some days I damned her, of course.

  Before Liz, I had a string of nicknames. One woman called me a happy button and another called me rosebud. I might have tolerated rosebud, but even in these dark crevasses, I’m savvy to the sled. Who wants that thought in bed with them? Rubyfru
it was a silly name, too, and then there was a woman who dared call me the little man in the boat. Nuh-uh. No men here. I quickly deflated and Marty promptly discarded the purveyor of those words. I think Marty’s words were close to “Get the hell out of my bed.” Whatever her words of choice, I agreed.

  Ah, my Liz. Can you hear me sigh? Liz calls me Kitten. How cute is that? No one has ever called me anything so charming. Charm. That’s what Liz is about in my book. She’s charming and possesses the perfect combination of sensual arousal. Her perfume is to die for and I think she uses a hint of peppermint mouthwash. Couple those with a soft voice and the silkiest tongue—Liz makes me purr.

  Tonight is Christmas Eve. Liz promised me a special evening, and I hear Marty softly singing “Silver Bells.” It’s Liz’s favorite, too. I know Liz is near. While city sidewalks have been bustling, Marty’s hormones have been gathering and swirling around, ready for me to make my entrance.

  Wait, I think Liz is coming closer. The anticipation kills me and I tremble at the thought of her next move. Liz will use her delicate, warm fingers to push away the lips that keep me hidden and—yes! Cool air pelts me and Liz is here with lips to warm me again.

  Ah, bliss. Liz’s precious lips surround me. Marty’s hips move slowly, taking me along on her gentle ride. A surprise touch from Liz’s tongue sends a shock so strong that I drive it throughout Marty to ease my pleasure and pressure. Otherwise, I know I’ll explode.

  What? No! Liz stopped. Please come back Liz. This isn’t…I’m not—

  Suddenly the ride stops and I feel Liz’s cheek against me again. She’s nuzzling me, loving me in the gentlest way. I purr.

  “Merry Christmas, Kitten,” Liz barely whispers to me. “I’ll return in a few minutes.” She kisses me ever so softly.