My father always told me that Christmas was magical, and I smile even more, thinking about just how right he was. Something about her in my arms feels so perfect, and I don’t ever want to let her go.
I can feel the vibration in Christmas’s chest as she hums along with the tune and reaches up a finger to trace my cheekbone. It’s so completely intimate, and I’m lost for a moment. It’s like we are the only two people on earth and this has all been created so that we could find one another and fall in love. Because that’s what’s happening inside me. As fast and as crazy as it may be, one look, one touch, and she was it for me.
I don’t know how many songs play as I hold her in my arms. Her humming and me becoming a slave to her every touch. But one tune bleeds into the next, and the time goes by.
It’s after midnight when the last of the guests finally make their way home. I made sure they all had safe transportation to wherever they were going, and Christmas seemed to approve of that. I wanted to do more to make her happy, and I suppose I could have invited people to stay, but that was crossing the line.
I spent most of the night following Christmas around as she greeted guests and made sure everyone was having a good time. I never gave her any directions for what her purpose was here tonight, because honestly, the whole party was just an excuse to get her here.
When a few people tried to speak to me about business or gain my attention, she had a perfect way of stepping in and directing the conversation back to them so that I wouldn’t have to talk and they wouldn’t feel slighted by my avoidance. She is truly a magical woman.
As the night when on and the guests thinned out, she tried to help some of the caterers with cleaning up, but I took her hand and said there was enough staff hired. And they were all being paid hefty bonuses for working Christmas Eve.
“I’ve had a room prepared for you,” I say, looking down at my feet. I don’t want her to think I’ve had this all planned from the beginning, even though I have.
“That sounds nice,” she says, her agreement both surprising me and pleasing me. “My feet are starting to hurt.”
“There’s an en suite in your room, with a large soaking tub if you feel like it.” I lead her up the stairs away from the grand hall and to the east wing of the castle. My room in on this end, conveniently located across the hall from her. “I’ve also taken the liberty of having some things brought to your room for your comfort while you stay.”
“Thank you, Nic. That’s very sweet of you.”
She takes me by surprise by rising up on her tiptoes and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. It happens so fast I don’t have a moment to react before she’s whispering good night and ducking into her room, closing the door softly behind her.
“Goodnight, sweet Christmas,” I say, placing my hand on my cheek over the spot where she kissed me. It might be my imagination, but it feels like it’s tingling.
I slowly move away from her closed door and into my room. I undress slowly, replaying every moment of tonight in my head. When I go to the bathroom, I look at my cheek to see if she left a mark, but there isn’t one. A little pang of disappointment hits me, but I still feel the tingle, so that has to mean something.
I strip off my clothes and get in the shower, letting the hot water run down my back. I have visions of Christmas doing the same in the other room, and my cock hardens at the image. Her round curves bobbing to the top of the water as she soaks in the tub, where the bubbles cling to the top of her breasts and her pebbled nipples. I grab the soap and slick my hands, running them down my stomach. I wonder if she’s doing the same and if she lets her fingers slip between her legs. I grip my cock and squeeze it before pumping up and down. I imagine her thick thighs opening and the warm water tickling her secrets. The places I want to touch, to taste, to fuck. My cock aches for her and no one else as it throbs in my hand.
I brace my free hand on the stone wall in front of me as I grunt and thrust into my fist. My orgasm bears down on me, and I grit my teeth as my cum shoots from my cock and splashes onto the cold stone. Long thick jets of it stream out as I whisper her name.
“Christmas.”
After I pull myself together and put on the red silk pajama bottoms my housekeeper laid out for me, I quietly creep across the hall, and knock softly on Christmas’ door. When there’s no answer, I try the knob and it turns.
The room is dark, and I stick my head in and say her name. If she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her, but I can’t bring myself to go to sleep until I see her one last time. It’s then I see her shadow on the bed, tucked under the covers as the moonlight streams in.
Walking over, I see the blanket is around her waist and she’s wearing red silk that looks very similar to what I’m wearing. I’m going to have to give Carol a raise.
Reaching down, I brush a stray hair out of her eyes and look at her peaceful face. She’s utterly beautiful, and I can’t think of a single thing to compare her to. Nothing even comes close to her magnificence. Her lips are slightly parted, and I lick my own, aching to taste her. And I’m a bastard, unable to stop myself from doing exactly what I want.
Slowly, I lean down and softly brush my lips across hers. It’s heart-stoppingly perfect and I need more. It’s not everything that I want, but it’s enough. And it will have to be until morning.
With one final look, I leave her to her dreams and go to find my own. I can only hope Christmas is there when I close my eyes.
Chapter Seven
Rolling over, I look out the window and feel myself smile. The snow is still falling, and I can’t help but be happy. It’s Christmas and I’m not spending it alone. Excitement bubbles up inside me because of who I get to share it with. I slide from the bed, open the bedroom door, and tiptoe over to Nicholas’s room. Slowly I push open the door to see him lying on his back, sound asleep.
I should turn around and go and let him sleep, but my feet keep moving me toward him. It’s as if they’ve got a mind of their own. He has a massive bed, and as I get closer I see he takes up most of it with his big body. When my eyes roam his chest, I see he doesn’t have a shirt on. He looks even bigger with his clothes off. His broad chest is covered in a thin layer of hair that trails all the way down, disappearing beneath the covers. God, he’s so handsome. I wonder why he hides away in his home.
Unable to stop myself, I place my hand on his warm chest, feeling his hair against my fingertips. He looks so peaceful in his sleep. No brooding or worry lines. He always seems so intense, and this is the first time he’s looked completely relaxed and at ease.
I gasp when a hand locks around my wrist, my eyes flying up to his open ones.
“Merry—” I’m cut off when his other hand slides into my hair, gripping the back of my head and pulling me toward him faster than I can form a thought. Our mouths meet and his tongue swipes in, taking what it wants. Before I know what’s happening, I find myself crawling on top of him, falling into the kiss and wanting to be closer to him. I want to feel him against me, his warm body pressed close to mine. My mind is scattered, and the only thoughts I can’t seem to form are the ones telling me to hold him closer and rub against him. I don’t even think I’m kissing him back. He’s dominating my mouth, the kiss so deep and hungry. It’s as if he’s starved for it, starved for me.
Then, as quickly as it began, it’s over and he’s gone, leaving me lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I look around and see he’s all the way on the other side of the bed with his back to me. He’s on the edge of the mattress, and I can see the thick muscles tensing under his skin. A string of curses leaves his mouth, and embarrassment fills me. Crap. I lie there for a moment, unsure of what to do but willing him to turn around and look at me. Give me something. Anything.
“I didn’t know it was you,” he finally growls.
I don’t even know what that means. Did he think I was someone else? Oh God, what if he has a girlfriend?
“I’m sorry,” I say as I jump from the bed and run from the r
oom. I don’t stop running until I hit the bottom of the stairs.
I stand there, wondering if he’s going to come after me. I hate this. When it comes to men, I have no idea what I’m doing. To be honest, I’ve never really cared before now. When I was about the age you start looking at boys, my mom had gotten sick. I put all my focus into her and our time together. Then I was so wrapped up in grief, I put all my focus into trying to be happy and into making other people happy, too.
But this is different. Something about Nicholas is pulling me to him. When he kissed me, it was like I came alive. I want more, but it’s clear that isn’t what he wants. I thought after last night he liked me. The way he’d danced with me all night. It was like no one else was at the party. It was him and me in our own perfect little bubble. I reach up to touch my lips, remembering the feel of his against mine.
I didn’t know it was you.
Those words play through my mind over and over again. Who did he think I was? Someone he wanted to kiss, I guess. My bottom lips starts to tremble at the thought of him belonging to someone else. An emptiness fills me. He was never mine, yet I feel like I lost him.
Stop it, I scold myself. I’m here to work. Or whatever. I woke up so happy this morning. I wasn’t spending Christmas alone for once. I’m still not alone, and I can be his friend. I can make the best of today.
I start looking around the giant house for a kitchen. I’ll make breakfast. That’s the least I can do. French toast casserole is what my mom and I made every Christmas morning. It’s a tradition, and I make it on the days when I’m missing her most. Maybe I can make Nicholas breakfast as a way of apologizing for going into his room. I wonder how mad he is. What if he takes back the closing of the mall? I really stepped into this time.