A Matter of Trust

"Ahem, it was 'buy a bracelet and get a Christmas tree charm and two others from their special selection free,'" I said.

Kat frowned at me, knowing I wasn't telling something, but Nikki laughed and patted my hand. "Put it on me, silly!" Looking at my sister, she added, "Kat, we actually met on a plane when Marc had a little problem with his laptop. And since it was nearing Christmas time, I think this is just perfect."

Kat faked a perturbed look as if she was twelve again before smiling and giving me a thumbs up when Nikki wasn't looking. She turned to swap presents with Reggie then.

"Marc, I got you something, too," said Nikki as she handed me a wrapped box of her own. "Go ahead, open it."

Two smaller boxes were inside. The larger contained a stainless steel protractor with a swing arm graduated in whole and half degree arcs and the second was a digital angle gauge and level. Realizing what it was for, I turned to her with a smile and she nodded. "Yes, now you'll always be able to tell the difference between 11.5 and 12 degrees, whether horizontal or vertical!"

I was laughing when I kissed her and my brother gave me grief as the others, including Meagan, clapped. Nikki snuggled close to me and we held each other as the gift giving wound down and the kids started playing with their toys and asking the grownups to play with them.

Nikki was about to get up when I whispered, "I have another, special present for you in a little while."

"What is it?" she asked. "I hope you didn't buy me anything expensive."

"No, it wasn't expensive at all, but it has meaning, which is why I wanted it for you. As for now, consider it an exercise in patience." She gave me a little growl before kissing me again.

We played with the kids while Mom and Kat fixed breakfast for everyone, and most of us went outside later in the morning to build snowmen and have a snowball fight. As is so often the case with snow in Georgia, it was starting to melt by early afternoon, and most in areas that received any sun was gone before evening.

With the late breakfast and all-too-frequent snacks during the day, we had an early Christmas dinner. Afterward, tired and full, most everyone went to the family room for play or Christmas movies, but I took Nikki's elbow and steered her off to her room.

"What is it, Marc? You're going to give me a present and I'm going to tell you that you shouldn't have, or, if it's too much, that I can't accept."

"Sweetheart, it didn't cost a dime," I said, giving her the box I'd hidden earlier. It was about 9x12 and an inch thick, and covered in a Christmassy red and green foil wrapping paper. She opened it carefully and reached inside.

"Marc, did you write this?"

"Yeah, just for you, Sweetheart."

There were tears in Nikki's eyes as she clutched it close to her chest and then pulled me in, barely keeping from wrinkling the manuscript. "Thank you, Marc. This means so much to me."

"I'd withhold that comment until you've read it, if I was you. It's quite possible you'll hate it."

"That's really doubtful, Marc. Here, sit with me while I read it."

She had me sit on the bed snuggled up against her as she read all 24 pages. I think she wiped a tear at the end before nodding and starting to read it again.

***

Nikki loved the story, praising my effort and thanking me profusely for writing it for her. I made her get up and put it away when she acted as if she was going to start reading it a third time. We spent more time with the family, and had some popcorn, brownies, and other snacks before the evening started winding down.

Getting the kids ready for bed went much like the night before, but this time, Nikki and I read them a couple of their new books in our regular voices. After prayers and a round-robin of goodnights that would have rivaled the old Waltons show, we made our way back down to the family room where my couch awaited.

I went to retrieve my pillows and blankets, but they weren't where I'd left them, and I couldn't find them elsewhere during my search.

"Hey, Mom, do you know what happened to my stuff for the couch?" I asked when she entered the room.

"Yeah, I put them away, Marc. They're back upstairs in the linen closet, if you need them. You two sleep well, okay?"

I wasn't sure what she was saying until she gave me a hug and little kiss, and did the same with Nikki.

"Good night," she said with a smile before going her way.

"Marc, did she just..."

"Yeah, I think so. Are you ready for bed?"

"Quite," she replied, grinning.

She went first, and I came by a few minutes later, giving the tiniest of knocks before she silently opened the door and pulled me inside. She was wearing a house robe as she took me in her arms. I loved her feel against me and then loved it more as she opened the robe and tried to push it off her shoulders. With my arms around her, it didn't fall as she'd probably intended, but there she was, naked in the robe, soft and warm against me.

I helped her with the robe, pushing it off, exposing her thin but exquisite body. Her breasts were a bit smaller than I expected, probably Cs at most, but she had great areolae, a dark pink, with matching raspberry-like highlights that drew my eye.

"I'm always cold," she whispered. "And they show."

"But they look absolutely delightful," I replied, barely audibly.

She smiled and pushed one up, as if inviting me, and I gladly accepted, drawing it into my mouth for some gentle suckling. She undid the drawstring on my sweatpants and pushed them down as I massaged and nursed her, switching from one to the other after a bit, not wanting either side to feel left out.

My boxer briefs were down then and Nikki was massaging me with both hands. They were a bit cold to the touch, but my penis swelled to the maximum extent possible as she rubbed me. My breath caught, leading her to give me an almost silent "shhh."

In moments, my t-shirt was gone, too, and I eased Nikki down in the bed, pulling the covers over her. I caught my sweatpants with my toe, tossing it just high enough in the air to catch, so I could pull the condom from the pocket, before joining Nikki under the blankets.

The house wasn't exactly cold, so I think our common shivers were as much due to nerves as they were to the temperature. We snuggled together to warm ourselves for a few moments before I turned toward her and started kissing her, my hands rubbing her breasts as hers ran over my chest and around my back.

"I want you, Marc. Make love to me," she breathed so softly I could barely hear her, but I nodded before sliding my hand down her tummy and over her mound. My fingers ran through a little patch of hair, not very thick, before continuing down onto a thigh, just missing heaven. I massaged her there for a bit before moving my hand up until the side of my forefinger was rubbing her outer labia without pushing too far. A few more passes like that led me to shift over, rubbing both of her outer lips without moving inside. Just a little higher then and I was catching her clitoris each time.

Nikki's eyes drifted closed and her hand pulled up to her mouth where she silently clamped down on the third phalange of her index finger to avoid crying out. I slipped a finger through her then, finding her soaked, so I collected what I could on the next pass before moving to her clit and encircling it. Round and round I went, increasing my speed as she bit down harder to keep silent.

She was breathing hard when she came, but she did a great job being quiet through it all. Her tenseness was gone as she wrapped her arms around me and held me close. When she was ready, she repeated her whispered request, "Marc, can you make love to me now?"

"I'd love to," I breathed. I opened the condom and she worked it into place on me, giving me a nice little massage in the process as we kissed. When ready, she spread her knees wide, and let me into position. Taking me in hand, she rubbed my tip though her cleft a few times before stopping and letting me push forward and inside.

We made tender love, slowly and quietly. There could be no boisterous bouncing, no hard thrusting, and no loud moans, groans, or creaking of bed frames or springs. The comforter was wrapped around us and we held each other close, Nikki's breasts snug against my chest. I held most of my weight off of her on my elbows, but was enjoying the sensations of being in her, exploring her slowly, deep to shallow, shallow to deep, and feeling her grip around me.

As a result, there was a deep togetherness, a feeling of intimacy that made me wonder if this wasn't far more than the usual physical act of lovemaking. I wondered if this could be as special as it seemed, if, just maybe, we could be meant for each other.

Such thoughts were interrupted, though, as it started, that intense feeling inside, that building toward a great release. I was breathing, hard but silent, as Nikki did the same. In the dim light of the bedside table, I saw her eyes close again as she tried to prolong her release. I followed suit, fighting it off for a few more seconds until I gave the hardest thrust yet, stopped buried deep within her, and started coming.

I don't know how long she'd held the last breath, but she exhaled, long and slow like our lovemaking. It was a bit before she whispered between breaths, "Thank you, Marc. That was incredible. Now, hold me, okay?"

We lay in bed together for the longest time, but when I awoke, I found that she'd slipped into a flannel nightgown and was snuggled against me. Ever so careful not to wake her, I crawled out of bed, slipped on my sweatpants and t-shirt, and found my tied off rubber before heading down the hall to the restroom. Minutes later, I was back, trying to get back in her arms without waking her, but I wasn't completely successful. She kissed me once as we happily entwined once more, feeling perfect together, and I went back to sleep with my lover in my arms.

***

On the way home on the day after Christmas, Nikki re-read the story I'd written for her as I drove. It was, I believed, her third or fourth reading.

When she was done, she looked at me and said, "Marc, this is good, really good. You have to show me more of your work."

This was what I dreaded. I wanted to share with her, but I needed more time. I needed to get to know her a little better. "Ahem, Nikki, I'm sorry, I can't., not quite yet, anyway. I'm...just not comfortable doing that. That's why I wrote this story for you."

"Come on, Marc. You've admitted that you want readers so you share your stories with strangers, but you won't share them with me, someone who likes you, who really cares for you a lot?"

"I'm sorry, Nikki, but I can't. It would be like...like Clark Kent telling Lois Lane when they first met, "Oh, by the way, I'm really Superman."

Okay, maybe that wasn't the best analogy. Her face hardened. "So you don't trust me."

"Nikki, I do. I just need to get to know you better."

"You're comfortable enough to make love to me and sleep with me, but not enough to share your stories? You know how unimportant that makes me feel? You brought me up to meet your family, we had a great time, and we made the most tender love I've ever experienced in my life, but you were just using me. When you're done, you show you don't trust me." She slumped back in her seat, obviously hurt, before turning to look out the window.

"I do trust you, Nikki, but keeping my writing secret has always been so important to me. I need to get to know you a little better before I can share any more of that with you. I'm sorry."

"So you can fuck me without trusting me. Great, Marc," she said, sarcasm dripping, "I'm really sorry, too. I thought we could have something really special, but if you're going to be like this, I don't know if I can see you again." She was crying as she finished.

"No, Nikki, please. We could, and I think we would, if you'll just give us more time."

"I'm sorry, Marc. If you can't trust me, there can't be anything more between us. Take me home and then go. I...I don't want...no, I can't...I can't see you any more."

A little over an hour later, I left her at her home feeling more miserable than I had in ages. She mumbled "Bye" and I said the same as I carried her things to her front door. She opened the door, dragged her things inside, and then closed the door, locking it, behind her without another word.

"Please, Nikki?" I called through the front door. "Can't we take this a little slower? I think we can be really good together if we give it a try."

She said nothing in reply, though, if she'd even heard me at all, and the happy time we'd experienced together was no more.

***

My sister called late that evening.

Kat and I had once been very close, but that had changed a few years before. Her poor decisions when it came to the men in her life, the abuse I suspect she'd suffered but never admitted to as a result, and, most of all, the impact it all had on Reyna, my niece, was too much. I'd had to back off from our relationship. That Sunday night she called with a very personal question.

"Marc, did you like Reggie?"

"I didn't get to talk to him that much but he seemed nice."

"He is, Marc. He's the best thing that's happened to me in, well, maybe forever. I've struck out a lot over the years, but I think Reggie could be the real thing. I haven't told anyone else, but we've been dating for nearly six months. I wanted to take it slow, to get to know him better before I introduced him to everyone, including Reyna. She only met him about a month ago."

"That's good, Kat, a wise move. I'm happy for you and hope it works out."

"Thanks, Marc. What about you and Nikki? Do you think there's really something there between you?"

I didn't want to lie to her, so I could avoid the question or tell the truth, but she continued before I could say anything..

"Well, Reggie and I really like her, Marc, and so does Reyna. Personally, I suspect you two could be really good together."

"Kat, I don't know. We've, ah, hit a rough patch. I don't know if we're going to see each other any more."

"Marc! No, dammit! Take it from someone who knows all too well, don't sweat the small stuff. Work it out. There's a good chance you'll be sorry someday if you don't."

"I don't know, Kat. It's not that small."

"Did she kill somebody? Rape, rob, or abuse someone? Is she a liar or a thief? Or, maybe, did she fuck somebody, maybe a supposed friend, behind your back? Those are major, Marc; I know because the assholes I've dated have checked off quite a few of those boxes. Most everything else, though, is small stuff that you can solve if you're willing to do it. Please don't fuck it up, Marc. I love you and want you to be happy."

"I love you, too, Sis, and wish the same to you."

***

I spent much of the week after Kat's call hoping she hadn't spread my news to the rest of the family, but, even more, thinking of how I'd gotten myself in the situation.

For nearly fifteen years, I'd written and published works on the Internet. For over three of that, I'd been concentrating on writing and publishing erotica. In all that time, I'd only admitted my hobby to one person, Nikki, and then only after she'd caught me.

Whether fifteen years or three, that means there was a lot of history behind my decision to keep it secret; similar to a consist of locomotives pulling a train, one doesn't make a major change like a stop or start and expect it to be done immediately. It takes time to get used to the idea. When it has the potential impact like this would on me, establishing trust is important. When Nikki refused to give me that time, I had to hold my ground to protect myself.

Trust, in my opinion, goes both ways. When she refused to give me the time to build that trust between us, she became as much at fault as I was with my refusal. I thought of calling, I even considered stopping by, but in the end, it's all a matter of trust. If the trust isn't there on both sides, the relationship won't be either.

***.

After working Monday through Thursday, Friday was New Year's Eve, my last planned weekday off for a while, but I had no special plans for it other than to write for part of the day and stay warm. The issue with Nikki had cast a long shadow on the week, making me regret daily that we couldn't couldn't try to find common ground, establish the trust we needed, and be together. With that not happening, I now just wanted the holidays to be over so I could move on.

As the afternoon progressed, I put the writing away and watched part of a college football game on TV before turning it off, not caring for either team. I'd already decided to skip the Peach Drop in downtown Atlanta that night, and my desire to party was practically nonexistent. The most exciting possibility seemed to be to find a willing woman with whom I might while away my sorrows, but that thought made the thought of what I might have had with Nikki all the more depressing so I nixed that idea, too.

As cold as it was outside, a big pot of chili hit my fancy late that afternoon. It was too late to fix it, but I decided I could put it in the crock pot and enjoy the aroma all day on New Year's. I could even take some bowls to the elderly couple that lived next door as a New Year's gift. Therefore, I headed off to the grocery store for the ingredients and for something for supper. I'd cook a good meal, do some more writing, and be in bed asleep before old Father Time did his annual handoff to the new Baby New Year.

It was dark and the temperature was already below freezing when I returned home from the grocery store but the streetlights and my headlights lit up a car parked right in front of my house. On passing it to turn into the driveway, it looked familiar, but I didn't realize whose it was until I saw someone sitting on my front steps.

Stopping the car where it was rather than pulling on into the garage, I jumped out and went up the walk only to find her there with her teeth chattering.

"Nikki, what's going on? Why are you here?"

"I had to see you, Marc. It's really important."

Her speech was slurred and her teeth were chattering as she said it, so I unlocked the front door, picked her up, and carried her inside to the couch in the living room. On grabbing a throw blanket I kept in the room for reading or occasional naps, I wrapped it around her and lit the gas fireplace before taking her in my arms. We weren't together any more, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let her die of hypothermia.

It didn't take long to see that the blanket alone wasn't working, so I peeled off my coat, helped her out of hers, and then took her in my arms and wrapped the blanket around both of us. We were cuddled on the couch in front of the fireplace, where the flames slowly did their part to help warm us.

"Thank you," she said, breaking the words up into about two or three repetitive syllables each. I was still considering rushing her to the hospital for treatment, but the fireplace and my body heat helped over time and she slowly stopped the worst of her shaking. I almost reminded her about needing a new coat, but figured she'd realized the importance of that by now.

"Nikki, are you feeling better? Do you need a warm bath?"

"No, I'm okay now," she said, holding me tight where she couldn't just minutes earlier. "Thank you, Marc. I started to go sit in the car, but I got too cold and couldn't make myself get up. I'd gotten too cold and was too confused."

Her fingers looked good and she claimed her toes were okay, too, so I finally relented. "I think you'll be okay now. You stay right here in front of the fire and I'll get you some hot chocolate to warm your insides, okay?"

She nodded and I got up, wrapping the blanket back around her to help keep her warm.