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‘No. I just rolled over and you weren’t there.’ She looks out at the snow. ‘You seem tense.’
Tense is a massive understatement. ‘Yeah. I’m fine. Just not good at being cooped up like this.’
‘You probably shouldn’t have ventured out when there was a storm due.’
He wasn’t planning on being anywhere near a storm when he went out. Then again, he hadn’t planned on anything that happened. Hadn’t planned on crashing. Hadn’t planned on finding Scarlett. Hadn’t planned on being stranded. He smiles, not sure how to answer that one, without giving her more questions.
She kisses his arm then slips into her strangely appealing Snoopy pyjamas, hiding her body from him until he unwraps it again later. ‘I’m thirsty. Do you want something to drink?’
‘I’ll give you a hand.’
He quickly throws on his boxers, trousers and top, then follows her downstairs. Nick sees to the fire as she fixes them a hot drink. Scarlett sits on the armchair by the fire, tucking her legs under her, while he lowers onto the couch and does his best to relax.
His magic is messing with him again. While he was having sex with Scarlett, the sensations flowing through his body were bearable. Now he’s wired. It’s a mix of his magic and the intense need to bury his dick in Scarlett as many times as he can.
She wraps her hands around her mug and hits him with a quizzical look. ‘That’s a fairly intense frown. What are you thinking about?’
I desperately want to hear you scream my name when you come, over and over again. ‘Sorry. Miles away,’ he lies.
She nods, but he knows she doesn’t believe him. Being economical with the truth is necessary, but he knows he’s not fooling her for one second.
‘So, Nick. I don’t know anything about you. What exactly do you do? For a living I mean.’
And so it begins. He knew it would only be a matter of time before curiosity got the better of her. ‘Manufacturing,’ he answers truthfully.
‘Oh. What do you manufacture?’
He flexes his fingers, the tingle spreading like the worst case of pins and needles. ‘Whatever I’m asked for mostly.’ She nods, sipping her drink as she tries to hide a smirk. ‘What’s with that look?’
‘I was just thinking about how you were dressed, your name, and what you just said.’
‘I don’t follow.’ Of course he follows. He knows exactly what she’s getting at.
‘Your name is Nick, you were dressed like Santa, and you make what people ask you to make. Surely you can see the connection?’
For the briefest of moments, he considers telling her she’s right. That he is actually Santa. Then good old common sense comes back into play again. ‘Back to the Santa thing again? I’m wearing red and white. I’m sure I’m not the only guy in the world who does that.’
Scarlett nods, then smiles at him. ‘I suppose you’re right. That might just be my imagination and the time of year, I guess.’
‘And your book,’ Nick says with a grin, as he clenches his fists under his armpits. The tingling is turning to cramps. Both arms are aching. He’s getting worse, and has no idea how to ease it. He’s never had this discomfort before, but he’s never been away from home at this time of year. If it wasn’t dangerous, he’d go for a fucking long run outside.
‘You might have a point there.’ She gives him a long look and frowns. ‘Are you all right? You look like you’re in pain.’
How to answer that one without sending her screaming out into the storm to get away from the madman? ‘I’m usually at home this time of year, and I’m worried I won’t get back in time.’
It’s weak as anything, but her face softens. She’s bought it. Or does, until she leans closer to look at something. Nick realises far too late what’s caught her attention.
‘Nick?’ She points to his arm as her eyes widen. ‘Is your tattoo moving?’
He glances down at his arm even though he knows his tattoo is doing exactly what she said it is. It may look like a regular, if not highly detailed tattoo, but it’s not. He didn’t have it before he took this job. As soon as he signed the contract, the tattoo appeared. And the images don’t move as such, they shift on his skin. It’s part of the build up. Once he’s done the Christmas run and expelled all the energy, they'll go back to normal.
He should have kept his sleeves rolled down, but he didn’t think. He’s not used to being around people who don’t know him, don’t know how his body reacts to this time of year.
She stands up and backs away from him, her attention still on the shifting ink on his arm. His stupid mistake has landed him in a shit situation. There’s no choice now. He has to tell her. Has to somehow convince her he’s not losing his mind. Or that she’s not losing hers.
‘Fuck!’ He didn’t mean to shout and it does nothing to calm the situation. He stands and takes a step towards her. ‘Please don't back away from me like that. I’m not going to hurt you, Scarlett.’
She points to his arm. ‘Why are your tattoos moving, Nick? What’s wrong with you? What the hell is going on!’
