As soon as she rips open enough of the paper to see the picture and title on the thin, square CD case, she gasps with delight, then brings a hand to her face and laughs her ass off. “Oh, my God, this is the best gift I’ve ever been given,” she informs me, flipping the Christina Aguilera CD over to make sure it’s the right one. Nodding when she sees her track, she grins and looks up at me. “This is amazing. Thank you. I hope there’s a picture of you working out inside.”
“Didn’t have time to make that happen, sorry. Feel free to take a picture tomorrow.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she says, her brown eyes glistening with pleasure. “I do know what we’re going to listen to during that morning workout, though. It has to happen.”
I nudge the smallest box with my big toe. “That one next.”
“Yes, master,” she mocks, nonetheless taking the gift and ripping the paper off. It’s small, a jewelry box. I’ve never bought Virginia a present before, outside of that godforsaken black dress, so I don’t know what her favorite kind of present is. I watch for signs that a jewelry box excites her, but she just seems curious. If I hadn’t fucked her last night—and this morning—I would fuck with her now, make a joke about how I hope it’s not too soon, since it’s the shape of a ring box. Now that I’ve gone and let my dick make my decisions for me, however, I probably shouldn’t. It would be mean instead of amusing.
I figure I might have to explain why I got it for her when she opens it. The gift itself is pretty straightforward—it’s a small stocking charm with the year engraved at the top of the stocking, but I didn’t buy it for the charm. I bought it because it was the first thing I saw packaged the way I wanted it when I walked into Pandora. I bought it for the box.
Virginia immediately grins up at me. “You got me Pandora’s box! You got me a genie in a bottle and Pandora’s box. You rock at Christmas, Rafe Morelli.” As an afterthought, she adds, “Oh, and this charm is super cute, too. I love it. Now I’ll always have it to remember my Christmas with you guys.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love both of these things. They’re fantastic.”
I knew she would like inside joke presents. The next one is not an inside joke, it was the real gift, in case she thought both of those were stupid. Since the first two were light-hearted, she isn’t prepared for it. There’s a helpless smile on her face as she rips into the next package, waiting to see which inside joke of ours is waiting inside the next package, but her smile melts when she cracks the oval case open. Instead of a joke, she finds a cultured pearl bracelet on a bed of crushed black velvet.
“Oh, Rafe,” she murmurs, gingerly running her fingers over the pearls. She unclasps it and catches the tiny “M” charm hanging off the clasp. Her smile comes back at the sight of it—it’s just the initial of the brand of that bracelet, but since it’s also the first letter of my last name, I assume that’s why she smiles.
Once she gets the bracelet out of its storage case, she pushes her sleeve back and drapes the pearls around her left wrist. Once it’s clasped, she holds it up for me to see.
“Beautiful,” I tell her.
“Thank you so much. This is… I did not expect jewelry. I didn’t expect anything. Usually I get a tip.”
I crack a smile. “I’m not sure a tip would have been an appropriate gift after last night.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you made me seem like a hooker. Probably won’t be the last.”
She climbs to her feet and scoops Nicholas up, cradling him against h
er chest and carrying him over to the bassinet they have set up in the corner. Then she comes back over to the couch, climbs on top of me, and threads her fingers through my hair.
“Thank you,” she says, sincerely.
I settle my hands around her waist. “You are welcome.”
Then she kisses me, her hand drifting down between my legs so she can rub me through my slacks. Between kisses, she murmurs against my mouth, “How about I improvise a Christmas gift for you?”
I smile against her mouth. “What’d you have in mind?”
She breaks away from my lips, slides down into the floor, and starts unbuttoning my pants.
Perfect.
Just the kind of Christmas present I like best.
17
Virginia
I shouldn’t wear $1,400 worth of pearls to work, but I couldn’t convince myself to take them off. I love them so much and I’ve already had to take them off so many times: to sleep in Rafe’s bed, since I didn’t want them to break during sex; to work out with him in his personal gym; to steam up his sauna in more ways than one; to get clean—and get fucked—in the shower afterward.
A shiver of arousal moves through me just thinking about the sheer heaven of the last 48 hours. I’m in a constant state of feeling like Cinderella at the ball. My inner buzzkill reminds me that midnight came around and fucked all her shit up, but I catch that negativity like a Kevlar vest catches bullets. Can’t be bothered with that shit. I’m living a fairy tale, dammit. It’s real and it’s mine, and I won’t hear otherwise.
I admire my bracelet for a couple seconds, then pull my phone out to check the time. Rafe should be coming in for dinner soon. The dining room is buzzing with people, but of course I kept his favorite booth open. Every time I go out to deliver a plate, I catch myself searching the room for the sight of his handsome face.