by Anders Grey
My heart ached at the idea of it. Now that I had a taste of Dylan, I wanted more. He was the one I wanted. Hell, I had no problem even admitting to myself that he was the one I loved. I knew it without a doubt in my mind.
I pushed my dark thoughts aside and grabbed my phone, dialing Dylan’s number.
My leg bounced impatiently. “Please respond…”
I held back a massive sigh of relief as Dylan’s cheery voice greeted me. “Hey!”
“Dylan. Where the hell are you?”
“Oh, baby,” Dylan said, sounding sympathetic. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”
“No,” I grumbled.
I could practically see the impish smile on his face. “Aww, you were, weren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I admitted in a low voice.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve left a note or something. I’ll do that next time.”
“Next time?”
“Yeah, y’know.” He chuckled. “The next time we have rockin’ sex on the couch for hours and I disappear the next morning because I’m out doing something special for you.”
My brows raised. “Something special?”
“Yup. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since you got all freaked out, maybe I should’ve gone easy on the whole surprise bit…”
I shuffled my feet, feeling extremely embarrassed at my overreaction now. “It’s okay. I freaked out over nothing. I should’ve known you wouldn’t disappear and leave Barley behind.”
“You’re right. She’s my baby. Aside from you, I mean.” I heard the playful wink in his voice. “Anyway, I won’t be long.”
“All right. See you soon.”
I hung up, feeling immensely better than I did before. Hearing Dylan’s cheerful voice cut through all the dark thoughts in my mind like a ray of sunshine.
I let the dogs out to pee, and when they returned I took a quick shower to feel more like a human again. Once I didn’t smell like sex anymore, I went to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for both of us. I’d never gone out of my way to make breakfast for a partner—usually because I didn’t let them stay the night—but with Dylan it felt natural. I wanted to do something nice for him, the way he always did for me.
I realized with an amused snort that I didn’t even like thinking about past partners anymore. Dylan was the only one I wanted, now and forever. I knew that now.
“Honey, I’m home!” Dylan’s voice echoed in the front hall. The dogs bolted up and ran to him in excited greeting.
When he arrived in the kitchen with a big grin, I snorted and put my arms around him. “Is that the line you’re always going to use when you come home?”
Dylan tilted his head. “Why, do you like it?”
I nodded. “I like that you consider this place your home.”
Dylan beamed, his smile brighter than the sun. “Then it’s home.”
Our lips met at the same time in a mutual kiss.
“Ooh, is that hot chocolate and bacon?” Dylan asked, peering over my shoulder. He gasped. “And pancakes?”
“Yes. I scrounged up a simple recipe.” I shrugged. “They might not be great because I’ve never made them in my life, but I figured you’d like them, since you have a sweet tooth.”
Dylan’s expression melted. “Nash… Thank you. God, you really are sweet and you don’t even realize it.” He smirked. “Hey, maybe that’s why I like you so much.”
With the dogs at our feet under the table, we ate in comfortable silence. Once in a while one of us would toss a tiny scrap of food to them for behaving nicely. The domesticity of it all made my chest strangely warm. It felt like I didn’t know what I’d been missing until now, like Dylan was the lost puzzle piece I’d been living without.
“So, where were you this morning?” I asked.
“Oh. That.” He took on a smug look. “You’ll have to wait and see. It’s a surprise, remember?”
“Right. So how long do I have to wait?”
Dylan dramatically rolled his head to the side. “Did you already forget the date, Nash?”
“I know it’s Christmas Eve. What does that have to do with anything?” It hit me like a sack of bricks. “Oh.”
“He finally gets it.” Dylan laughed.
Guilt wormed its way through me like a rotten apple. How could I have been so stupid?
“I—I completely lost track of the days,” I admitted. “And I didn’t have time to get you anything, I’m so sorry. Maybe I can run out now and get you a gift.”
“Nash…” Dylan smiled. “You don’t have to get me anything. I already knew when I met you—and fell in love with you—that you didn’t really do Christmas. So don’t worry about it.”
Still feeling bad, I frowned. “What about you? Did you get something for me? God, please say no. If you did, I’ll feel like total shit.”
Dylan nodded. “I did get you something.”
I slumped with a loud groan. “Return it. I don’t deserve it.”
“I can’t return it, I’m afraid.” Dylan shook his head. “It’s simply unreturnable.”
“No receipt?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“Nope.”
“You should’ve gotten one, since your boyfriend’s apparently an insensitive douche,” I muttered.
Dylan chuckled. “It didn’t come with a receipt. It’s not that type of gift.”
I wondered what kind of item he’d bought that didn’t come with a receipt. Whatever it was, it must have been something special. What an ass I’d been not to think about a gift. How could I be dating someone so obsessed with Christmas and completely forgotten about this?
“I’m going out,” I announced, ready to grab my coat and run out the door. But Dylan grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to face him.
“C’mon, don’t get all self-deprecating and beat yourself up over it,” Dylan said. “Seriously, Nash, I don’t need any presents. You know what Mariah Carey said…”
I groaned, but this time it was half laughter. “Please don’t say it. I’m begging you.”
Taking on the highest note his voice would reach, Dylan sang, “All I want for Christmas is—”
I kissed him hard to make him shut up. When I pulled away, his face was flushed and he was grinning like an idiot.
“Me,” I mumbled. “Okay. I get it. Just please don’t sing that song.”
“Fine. Just because you asked nicely.”
“I am going to get you something, though,” I insisted. “Nothing big. In fact, I won’t even be gone long. Just stay put.”
Dylan crossed his arms. “Nash McPherson? Getting me a Christmas gift? What is happening to the world?”
I rolled my eyes, gave him a quick goodbye kiss, then ran to the car. An idea popped into my mind. I knew exactly what to get him.
I lied. I didn’t get Dylan one Christmas gift. I ended up getting him two. I rationalized it by saying one was a stocking stuffer—ignoring the fact that I didn’t have any stockings put up—and the other one was a real gift.
It was after sunset now, dark except for the beautiful glowing lights on the Christmas tree. Dylan was sprawled on the couch watching Christmas movies. He was wearing the same flannel pajama pants he’d borrowed and ripped the other day. I had a flash of a dirty idea involving them before I pushed it aside.
“I’m home,” I called.
“Hey, baby,” Dylan replied, shooting me an upside-down grin. When I came into the living room I noticed Sheba and Barley were both laying on top of him, taking up the whole couch in one big love-pile. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yup.” I sat on the couch’s arm, since there was no more room left for me and I didn’t to disturb their peace. “So, how do you do this? Presents on Christmas morning or Eve?”
“That’s up to you,” Dylan said. “In fact, if we’re making new traditions, I think you should be the one to choose.”
I snorted. “I’m impatient. I choose now.”
Dylan sat up and patted the space beside him. I c
ozied up next to him, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.
“Well, I obviously didn’t have time to wrap any of these, so I’m giving them to you as-is,” I said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“More than okay.” He nuzzled my cheek. “I love any gift you give me, whatever state it’s in.”
“You’re such a sap.” Embarrassed, I thrust the one plastic bag at him. “Here’s the first one.”
Dylan ripped through it excitedly. He gasped when he pulled out the huge cylinder. “Nash, is this…?”
“Yup,” I confirmed. “That crappy, disgustingly sweet instant candy cane mocha you love so much.”
Dylan laughed. “Thanks. I love it, genuinely. I can’t believe you got over your pure hatred enough to buy this for me.”
“The things we do for love.”
He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek, which made me blush.
“Open the other one,” I insisted.
He took the second bag with a curious expression. “Not as heavy as the first one. Something small.” He mock-gasped. “Nash, is it a ring? Are you proposing?”
“I have to warn you that if you’re expecting a ring, prepare to be severely disappointed.”
“Then I won’t get my hopes up.” He laughed and kept digging. He didn’t look as he grabbed the thing in his hand and pulled it out. A colorful lump came out, wrapped in square plastic. “What is this?”
“Clay,” I told him. I scratched the back of my head, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I thought it’d be cute if we made Barley and Sheba ornaments. For the tree. Er, for next year, I mean.”
Dylan’s face lit up and his lower lip quivered. He threw himself at me, wrapping his arms tightly around my body and burying his face in my neck.
“Nash,” he murmured. “This is such an amazing idea. Thank you.”
“You don’t think it’s silly?” I asked.
“No! It’s wonderful and thoughtful. I love it.” He brushed his lips against mine. “I love you.”
My face heated up. “Love you, too.” I cleared my throat. “Now where’s my present?”
“Oh, right.” Dylan grinned and hopped off the couch. “Uh, I need to go get it ready. Give me ten minutes.”
I raised my brow. I had no idea what this mystery present of his could possibly be. Me and the dogs watched Dylan disappear into the other room. I shrugged at them.
“Who knows what he’s up to,” I mumbled.
About ten minutes later, Dylan called out, “Okay, Nash. Now close your eyes!”
“Okay.”
I heard him shuffling out.
“Are they shut?” he asked.
“Yes,” I promised.
“Okay… I believe you. No, doggies, you stay over there.” He grunted, and from the sound of it, he seemed to be changing positions. There was a strange fabric-like sound I didn’t understand, and I was tempted to open my eyes, but I kept them shut for now.
“Can I open them yet?” I asked.
“Just a sec… Okay. Open them now.”
I opened my eyes.
There was Dylan sitting cross-legged right in front of the tree, completely naked except for a beautifully curled ribbon around his dick.
My mouth hung open.
“Surprise?” Dylan said, grinning.
A slow, smug smile spread over my face. “So that’s what you meant by the gift being unreturnable.”
“Well?” he asked with a chuckle. “What do you think? Did you still want a gift receipt?”
I took his face in my hands and kissed him deeply—enough to make the wrapped-up present in between his legs stir to life.
“No,” I said. “This was the best Christmas gift I could have asked for.”
“Do you mean that? ‘Cause I can get you a real one, y’know.”
“I’m serious. I love this gift,” I promised. My eyes prowled up and down his body. “In fact, I think I’d like to take it for a test drive.” I licked my lips. “Right now.”
Dylan’s eyes widened and flashed with desire. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
He leapt to his feet and we dashed to the bedroom together. I made damn well sure to enjoy my perfect gift into the wee hours of Christmas morning—and for the rest of my life.
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