The Virgin Miracle by Rob Rosen

Author:Rob Rosen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2014-11-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHRISTMAS MORNING I woke in the arms of my 36B lover, my cell phone gently rousing us from silent slumber. Did we get much sleep? No, not really. Did I care? No, not at all.

“Merry Christmas, Bruce,” he said, rubbing my back as I dozed on his hairy chest.

I looked up at him and got my first present of the season. “Same to you, Lance.” My smile quivered. “But….”

“Yeah, I know. You have to get going.”

My heart fractured in two. We were still strangers, though it didn’t feel that way at all. Plus, he’d be spending Christmas all alone now. “I wish….”

He touched his index finger to my lips. “No worries, Bruce. Maybe Virgin will get me out of here earlier. I mean, one virgin had a miracle on this day, so why not two?”

“You always this upbeat?” I asked, staring down the magnificent length of his finely etched body.

“Must be the company,” he replied.

I grinned as I hopped up. “Must be.”

And then I got dressed and he got dressed and my stomach did a series of backflips that would’ve scored a perfect ten despite the fact that nothing was perfect about any of this besides, as he said, the company.

Dressed, we found the bathroom in the clubroom and tidied ourselves up, neither one of us saying anything to the other. Was he feeling what I was feeling? I thought as much. I knew I was feeling something warm and tingly, but since our ships were already in choppy waters, why, I figured, rock the boat?

We left the clubroom in silence, his hand occasionally touching mine, until again we found ourselves at my gate. We looked at the screen at the same time.

“Well,” he finally exhaled, turning my way. “Looks like you’re good to go.”

The news was bittersweet. “Looks like it.” I stared into his eyes for the last time. “Thanks again, Lance. It was very nice meeting you.”

He tousled my hair. “I’ll call you, Bruce. Promise,” he said. “Right after the New Year.”

The plane was boarding. “I know, Lance. I know.” I started to walk away. “Good luck with your flight tomorrow.”

He shot me a wink and a thumbs-up. “And you have the merriest one ever.”

Suddenly that seemed highly doubtful. Still, I smiled and waved a farewell. Again, easy come, though not so easy go, not anymore, not by a long shot.

I boarded my plane and took my seat, 36A yet again. Fate seemed to be having a field day with me as of late. When my seatmate sat down next to me, it was a woman with brown eyes. My butterflies remained still, too tired and forlorn to bother to flap.

I stared out the window. London, what there was of it to see, was all dressed in white. The plane door closed. My heart stopped beating, however briefly.

The flight attendant approached and tapped me on the shoulder. “You’re in the wrong seat, sir,” she said.

I handed her my boarding pass. “It says 36A.”

She took it and shook her head.

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