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A Flaming Pile of Christmas

12

--- Don't take it serious. It might be metaphorical. ---

*

It was a typical Saturday morning for Lucas. He woke up disoriented and hungover. The ceiling he stared up at through a fog appeared familiar. It would have if he were actually staring up at the ceiling. But he wasn't. He was face down on the coffee table completely naked. The only bright spot in the fog he found himself in were the sexiest set of toes staring up at him. The fact that toes don't have eyes is beside the point. They were red and perfect. A complete set on both feet. It was an improvement for him. He watched them flex and wiggle a bit as he blinked, or they did. He wasn't confident which one did.

Why he was naked wasn't a mystery. He generally ended a Friday night naked. The coffee table was a new twist. Luckily the glass hadn't shattered when he fell or crawled or whatever he did to mount the thing. Hopefully he'd used a condom. He didn't want to have to support a little mocha table, or tea stand, or whatever their coupling would create. He'd have to look up the statute on whether or not he'd committed a crime last night.

"Are you awake?" The annoyed female voice was loud and piercing.

"No. I'm Lucas. You've got amazing toes."

"What?" They disappeared from his view.

He rolled over and heard a sharp intake of air and a shriek. Yep. It was his ceiling. He saw the perfect triangle stain above the ceiling fan. It was in the shape of a slice of pepperoni pizza. He noticed the black lace bra hanging from one of the blades. Decent. Almost sexy. "Is that yours?" He pointed at it.

"No. Would you cover yourself or put some clothes on."

"Was I wearing that?"

"I don't know. It was here when we got here."

"Huh." Lucas raised his head to see a leggy brunette pretending not to ogle him. When she saw him notice her, she jerked around to look the other way. Her back was ramrod straight. There was an amazing ass right underneath it. She was wearing a cute little pair of flannel pajamas and a tank top. "A great ass and sexy feet. I must have piled on the bullshit pretty thick last night." He lowered his head back down on the table and closed his eyes.

"You didn't pick me up in a bar. I'm your brother's girlfriend. I have a hell of a lot higher standards than you."

"Seriously? My brother and standards don't usually go together." Lucas rolled off the table and hit the floor with a loud thump. "Oh. I get it. You let him bang you cause he has money."

"Excuse Me? Listen asshole, I'm not one of your whores you bring home. I'm..."

"Would you shut up." Lucas covered his ears to shield his brain from her shrill voice. "Either shut up or blow me. I really don't care which. I'm hungover and your voice is probably the least sexy thing you've got going on."

Lucas opened one eye to see her ass wiggling away in a huff. His chuckle only made it wiggle faster. With a giant stretch and a yawn, he got to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. When he had complete control of his vision, he looked down at a fully erect penis staring up at him. "Are you just morning wood or are you for her?"

His penis didn't say a word. It just kept looking up at him. There was no way he was going to be able to take a piss with it like that. He eyed the tub slash shower and then thought better of it. He made his way to the kitchen to find a fresh brewed pot of coffee. She was hot in a blurry sort of way and could cook. Not bad. Still, she let his brother bang her. She had to be some sort of sadomasochist. Maybe she'd lost a bet with Satan. His brother was a tool. More like a self-centered moron in love with his own hand. They had been inseparable in high school. Sharing a room with a guy constantly jerking off was unsettling at best, down right creepy at worst. How the poor kid survived high school without having to drag around an IV to keep some fluids in him, was a mystery.

"What the hell are you doing?" The sexy ass and toes exclaimed from behind him.

Her shrill voice caused Lucas to wince in pain. He was standing in the doorway of the cabin he called a home, peeing. The stream of golden liquid damn near reached eye level at its peak before falling back to earth to land on the snow covered front porch. He took a sip of coffee and peered at her over his shoulder.

"Could you speak with your inside voice? Is that too much to ask? I'm hungover. I have to assume you know the feeling. It has to be the only way you'd ever allow my brother to get in your pants."

"You're a pig."

"No. I'm a man. Men have needs and bodily functions. Right now I need to pee. If you and your sister are still here when I sober up, I'll need to fuck. Not really picky which one of you pretends not to like it."

"What's wrong with you?"

After his bladder was empty, he closed the door and faced her. She was twenty feet away glaring through him. Lucas noticed two things. One was that her left nipple was staring at him rather aggressively. Secondly, her right nipple was staring at him wantonly. "God, those are cute."

"Excuse me?"

"Your nipples. Are you just sexy everywhere? Seriously woman, Chris is a complete ass. You have to aim higher in life. Set some goals. Start with self-esteem and work up from there."

"Would you put some clothes on?"

Lucas noticed her tone was a bit less abrasive. Her eyes wandered lower and his gaze followed hers. His pecker was still staring at him and he was pretty sure it winked. "Well, I guess you aren't morning wood. Good taste, buddy." He looked back to the girl who was now blushing.

"Put some clothes on." She almost begged.

"It's my house. Take yours off."

The ass wiggled away again. He could get used to that. It didn't seem too difficult to cause. Lucas grabbed another cup of coffee and wandered back to the bathroom. The shower turned into a bath as his head pounded away without mercy. Everytime he closed his eyes, the image of ten little toes appeared before him. He was humming away to himself when he saw her head peek around the corner. She had an anxious expression on her face. It was a good look for her. It was the first time he really saw her almost clearly. She was cute. Dark eyes, pouty lips, just cute.

"Where's your sister?"

"I don't have a sister."

"Who was that other girl standing next to you earlier?" He waved a hand at her. "Never mind. That was probably me. What's your name?"

"Kristen. Are you almost done in there? I need to pee."

"So pee."

The cute face turned a bit hate filled. "Are you always an ass?"

"No...probably. Are you always so uptight?"

"I'm not uptight. I just don't like assholes."

"Good to know. So...no anal for you. I can live with that."

His chuckle bounced off the walls of the bathroom as her face went white and then disappeared. He was a bit disappointed he didn't see her ass jiggling away. The face reappeared less then two minutes later.

"Seriously, I need to pee. Get your ass up and get out of there."

"Not gonna happen. If I stand up right now, I'm gonna toss up whatever I ate last week. Either go out on the porch like a man or get over yourself and use the toilet."

The stare down was intense. On her part anyway. He was still staring at her nipples. Odd. They were still staring at him. With a growl and what he assumed was a silent wish for the most horrible death imaginable, she stepped into the bathroom.

"Look the other way." She snapped.

With a happy sigh, Lucas closed his eyes and relaxed lower into the tub. He began humming again. The toilet seat slammed down causing him to wince. Her satisfied chuckle was blatant.

"So, where is Limp-dick?"

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Premature Ejaculator, the Phantom Whacker, the guy who leaves you hanging when he rolls off you at night after a solid forty-five seconds of grunting. You know...my brother." Lucas heard a slight giggle. It was soft and feminine, but it was there. "I don't hear any tinkle tinkle. I thought you had to go."

"I can't."

"Take the broomstick out of your ass. It helps. I swear."

"Asshole."

With his toe, he turned the knob to the hot water. "So, where is Wonder boy?"

"You really don't like your brother, do you?"

"Not really. I had to buy this cabin for twice its real value. He couldn't just let me have it when the folks died. I was willing to let everything else go. The boat, the house, but nope, Chris had to be the selfish prick he is. I'm sure you've met that side of him." Lucas looked up at her as she stared down at him. "Mr. I'll reciprocate next time."

The corner of her mouth twitched for a second. A bit later a smile appeared.

"Wow. Now that's more like it. I don't mind angry sex every so often, but that's a face I could get used to." He took a peek at the bit of thigh she was showing. "And legs too. Am I still drunk or are you just all sex and lips? You can't be dating Chris. God isn't that cruel." He leaned his head back down and closed his eyes.

The toilet flushed and then she reached over and turned off the faucet. Lucas fell asleep sometime after that. He woke when the water got cold. Getting out, he found he could stand up without the room spinning too badly. He toweled off and walked back into the front room, the towel left on the bathroom floor. Kristen was curled up in an overstuffed chair reading a book. When she heard his footsteps she looked up and stared. Her smile was as beautiful as a crisp morning sunrise. It stopped Lucas in his tracks. He followed her eyes to his crotch again. His eyes shared her amusement when they came back up to meet hers.

"It's called shrinkage. The water got cold. I'm guessing you're used to something about this size."

She didn't say a word. She just giggled quietly to herself and went back to reading. Lucas headed to his bedroom and found some clean clothes. He grabbed two slices of pizza and the last of the coffee and sat down on the couch. The bra was gone and the room was kind of clean. The pile of clothes, papers, and most of the clutter had disappeared.

"You clean?"

"The place was a mess. I got tired of looking at the bra so I started cleaning. I'm gonna need a tetanus shot when I get back to civilization."

"A joke. Nice. I see you're in a better mood. I take it you rubbed one out thinking of me."

Again with the not so subtle death wish look. Lucas spotted a slight color creep into her cheeks. He stared until she blinked her hate-you eyes and turned back to her book.

"Fine. Don't admit it. I got two questions for you. Where is the moron and why are you here? I'm pretty sure I didn't invite Mr. Buttmuncher to my cabin in the woods for Christmas."

"You've got to be the most immature guy I've ever met. Your brother doesn't put you down behind your back like this. He's mature and caring and any women would be glad to be with him. I have to assume you're just jealous of his success."

"Can you answer a simple question? Where and why. It's not rocket science."

"He went back to town for groceries. You've got nothing in the house but pizza and peanut butter. We're here because he missed you. He regrets the way you two left things and wanted to make amends. That's what mature men do."

"No it isn't. Mature men do the exact opposite. When they hate someone they either kick the crap out of them or never see them again." Lucas smiled and winked at her between bites of pizza. "I'm so mature I did both. The little pecker took a swing at me and I knocked him out with one punch. I'm betting you could take a punch better than he does."

Before she could fire back her phone rang. The conversation was quick and animated. Lucas got bored halfway through and went off to take a piss. He was washing up when she appeared in the doorway fully dressed to go out.

"Chris is in the hospital."

"What?" Lucas shook his head and grabbed the towel to dry his hands. "Did his penile implant finally rupture?"

"He slipped on some ice and hit his head, you asshole."

"Okay?" She stared at him angry and expectant, which forced another question out of him. "What?"

"I need a ride to the hospital."

"Why? Are you a doctor?"

"Get your shit together, stop acting like such a prick, and drive me to the fucking hospital."

"Honey, I can barely see how sexy you look mad. There's no way I can drive you anywhere. Relax. I'm sure he'll be fine. And if he isn't, who really cares. It's not like he means a whole lot to you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You're a gold digger, aren't you? Or is that why your mad. He hasn't married you yet. If he kicks before you have his name, all your fake orgasms are wasted."

The slap was a good one. Crisp, clean, she even rotated her hips to get a decent whip action. Lucas had been slapped a few times. A few dozen times to be almost accurate. He wasn't ashamed to cry. He didn't of course. Well he did, but he could blame the vomiting for that. His pizza and coffee came up and landed in the toilet. He was a professional puker. High school parties, college frat parties, a dozen bachelor parties, and more strip club incidents then his criminal record showed. He hadn't missed the target in over a decade. Miss sexy ass wasn't so refined. The contents of her stomach hit the floor and the door. Despite the stabbing pain right behind his eye, Lucas laughed. He was starting to love Saturday mornings.

While she was dry heaving and swearing at him with impressive enunciation, he brushed his teeth. Grabbing the towel from the floor, he wiped down the door and then pushed a pile of what looked like uptight yuppie flakes into a nice organized lump and left the towel over it. She followed him to the kitchen to watch him grab a glass of water and stare out the window at the first snowflakes of the day.

"What are you doing?" Her exasperated voice was getting grating again. He was almost feeling sorry for his brother.

"I'm looking out the window at a blizzard. Sorry, can't make it to town in this."

She stared out the window at a few lazy flakes drifting in the still morning air. "Your brother could be slipping into a coma, and you're playing Little Miss Hold-a-grudge? Grow up." She was in his face screaming.

"Fine. I'll take you." He finally relented with an exasperated sigh of resignation. "You gotta do me one favor first."

"What?"

"Brush your teeth."

He saw the instinct to slap him flash in her mind. It was pretty blatant. Her jaw clenched, her sexy brown eyes dilated, and he could see her heartbeat in a vein running down the curve of her neck. A very kissable curve of her neck. His tiny smirk at her cheeks turning red didn't help. In a huff, her ass wiggled away. The hips didn't move too bad either.

He was standing with the driver's side door open and holding his keys in the air when she stepped out of the cabin. She stared at him for a moment and then walked up to look at him with suspicion and a wee bit of hatred.

"You're driving." He instructed.

She grabbed the keys and slid in. When he hopped in the other side, she was staring at him. "It's a manual."

"Yea?"

"I don't know how to drive a manual."

"Men call it a stick. I'm betting you've handled a few." She ignored his bad joke and unsubtle innuendo. He didn't blame her. He'd already used up his best lines and had only made the ice thicker. "Well, today you're gonna learn. Push in the clutch and start it up."

Her first attempt came to a lurching stop. Her second, third, and twentieth ended the same way. They'd barely gotten fifty feet when he decided to slide closer to shift for her.

"If we die, don't be surprised if I go out with my hands on your tits."

The laugh she gave him was actually real. It took an hour to get to town. By the time she pulled into the small hospital parking lot she could actually drive a stick. From time to time, he'd even caught her looking at him without hatred in her eyes. There was even a civilized conversation to go with it as they drove.

Lucas sat down in a chair in the waiting room while Kristen got the information from a receptionist. He was scanning a magazine of ads. After about eighty pages, he still hadn't found an article. He saw legs and then looked up to see Kristen staring down at him.

"He's in room one twelve"

"Do you need help counting that high?"

Yep. The hatred was back. Damn she was cute. Her ass wiggled away with her back perfectly straight. With his vision completely clear her legs were even nicer. What the hell was her deal? How could a woman like that like his brother? Women were jigsaw puzzles. If they didn't hate you, they just wanted you dead. It was the curious law of the universe.

She came back after an hour and had to shake Lucas awake. Dear brother Chris had a concussion and had to stay overnight. Odd how that worked out. It was almost convenient. Lucas was beginning to think Saturdays were his favorite day in the entire world. Kristen was able to drive to the tiny grocery store without killing the pickup once. A leisurely tour of the eight aisles resulted in only a few glares from her. With six bags of groceries, they headed out of town. She was able to shift all by herself on the drive home. Despite her attempt not to, she smiled.

Lunch was made, a nap was taken, and when the sun set, a fire was started in the fireplace. Lucas popped a frozen lasagna in the oven and sat down to stare at the fire and contemplate how to get her drunk enough to bang. He liked simple pleasures in life. Beer, fishing, and really regrettable sex with random angry girlfriends of his brother. Christmas was the perfect time of year.

They sat next to each other on stools in the kitchen. A decent bottle of wine was opened and already half consumed. She'd loosened up enough to allow the broom to rest in the corner by the fridge.

"Explain it to me." Lucas took a sip of wine and stared at her. "How does something like you end up with Mr. Honorary Urinal Cake?"

"Wow." Kristen rolled her eyes. "Your brother is in the hospital and you still throw insults. And what do you mean by something like me?"

"Something beautiful and exotic. You can clean a house, read a book, and drive a stick. If you tell me you know how to fish, I just might hump your leg."

She hid the smile behind her wineglass. Lucas saw it. The subtle curve of her soft lips moved upwards for the briefest moments. He distinctly heard a bit of ice fall to the floor. She was thawing. Or getting drunk. She could go both ways. He hoped she could. It would be a hell of a home video.

"That's your ideal woman, is it?"

"She doesn't necessarily have to read. I don't mind picture books. Now, answer the question."

"We met at a dinner party. He was charming, sophisticated, and didn't insult me every other sentence. Your exact opposite. Funny how that works out."

"Not really. I used to be those things, but then I stopped pretending just to get laid. I'd rather be honest with a woman."

"And how's that working for you?"

"Fantastic. I'm eating an average meal with the second most beautiful woman who's ever been in this cabin."

"The second? Who scored higher than me?"

Lucas smiled at her. He saw the flash of competition in her eyes. Jealousy was an amazing motivator. "My Mother. She used to sit all day in the chair you read your book in. She'd curl up in a blanket and waste away the day. My two most favorite Christmases were here. We used to put a tree in the corner and decorate it just like most people. When I was ten, a spark lit the tree up like a roman candle. Flames went everywhere. It was awesome. Chris started wetting the bed again after that one."

"That's your favorite? A traumatic memory that left your brother scarred."

"Nope, that one was just a fond memory. My two favorite are all sweet and cuddly and none of your business."

She stared for a moment as he smiled a thin indifferent smile back at her. She wanted to ask the question. It was right on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she gave a dismissive shake of her head. "So where's the tree? You don't celebrate Christmas?"

12
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