A Happy Christmas Ending

by Christiane France

  “That if I do become jobless, I’ll never find anything else in my field given the current state of publishing and the economy. And you’re afraid what I’m intending to do temporarily could become permanent. Am I right?”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  “True. But not always, and definitely not in this case. For starters, I won’t be sitting around bewailing my misfortune. I can do freelance editing, I have great computer skills, and if push comes to shove I can always find a need and fill it. By that, I mean start my own business, doing I have no idea what. Or I can always acquire another skill. I’ll just need a little alone time to consider my options and make a plan.”

  “You wouldn’t be alone though would you? You’d be with your parents.”

  “True. But they wouldn’t interfere. They know me too well.”

  “Meaning I would?”

  “I don’t know. Would you?”

  I laughed. “Probably.”

  “I still have six weeks in this apartment, Drew. I also have a couple of feelers out for other jobs. Anything can happen in that time.”

  I pressed my face against his chest, feeling his warmth and breathing in his scent. “You have it all worked out, huh?”

  “Yup.” He slid a finger under my chin and lifted my head so we were eye to eye. “There is absolutely nothing to worry about, love. Things will work out. I promise.”

  “Meoooow!”

  Marmalade began pushing himself between our legs, either in search of food or in an attempt to get a little attention for himself. I wasn’t sure which.

  “Yes, and you’ll be okay, too, you little pest.” Michael released me and picked up the cat. “This guy won’t give over until I feed him. So, while I do that, maybe you’d like to find us something to drink? There’s beer and cola in the fridge.”

  “How about coffee?”

  He grinned and blew me a kiss. “I’d love one. That’s if you’ll be kind enough to make it.”

  I followed him down the hallway into the surprisingly spacious kitchen. “Is there still any of that special coffee I brought over?”

  “Still in the freezer where you put it.”

  I filled the water tank of Michael’s coffee machine, then found the container with the coffee in it and measured a sufficient amount into the filter to make not too strong a brew. It was a brand I couldn’t get here in England, and my mom kept me supplied with the occasional care package. I didn’t have freezer privileges at Jasper’s, so I’d brought it here to keep it fresh.

  The coffee didn’t take long and, once the ready light came on, I dispensed with the used grounds and poured us each a cup. Sometimes Michael liked his black, sometimes with milk. “You want anything in yours?”

  Michael looked up from filling Marmalade’s bowl with a mix of wet and dry food. “A teaspoon of sugar, please. That stuff’s pretty strong.” He put the bowl on the floor so the cat could dig in, then came to where I was standing and wrapped his arms around me. “We wouldn’t want anything to keep us awake, now would we?”

  I laughed and ran the tip of my tongue around his ear, something I knew he liked. “I thought that what exactly what we wanted. I thought the plan was to spend the night making love.”

  “We could, I suppose. Given the right inspiration.”

  I delved a little deeper with my tongue. He shivered with what I knew was suppressed excitement and pushed me away.

  “Will you please stop doing that?”

  “Why?” I frowned. “Does it make you horny?”

  “No. I’m already that.” He cupped my face in his hands and began edging me out the door in the direction of the bedroom. “What you just did almost made me come. And I know how much you’d hate holding your breath, waiting for round two. So just watch yourself, lover.”

  I’d been fortunate with my own libido so far, but Michael, like many guys in their forties, couldn’t always get it up as fast as they might wish. At least Michael was aware of his limitations and had learned how to keep control.

  We made it to the bedroom, where Michael quickly disrobed and I started to do the same. But instead of getting in the bed, he turned toward the bathroom.

  “You’ll be glad to know that in spite of the iffy state of the plumbing in this building, the water was still hot when I checked a minute ago.” He gave me a quick over-the-shoulder glance. “I propose we take advantage of that by having a shower first, followed by a nice long cuddle. How’s that sound to you?”

  As far as I was concerned it was exactly what the two of us needed. I stepped out of my pants and boxers and threw them on the chair. “I’m right behind you.”

  He gave a sexy chuckle. “I thought you liked it better the other way around.”

  “Don’t be cheeky.” As he bent down and turned on the water, I gave his ass a none-too-gentle slap. The kind that left a lovely rosy-red handprint.

  He straightened up, fast. “Hey! That hurt.”

  “Serves you right.” I traced the edges of the red mark with my forefinger. “Want me to kiss it better? Maybe somewhere in the middle here?”

  “Later.” He adjusted the spray to gentle and pulled me under with him. He nuzzled my mouth with his lips. “I need you, baby, I’ve missed you so damn much.”

  “I know. Me, too. But what am I supposed to do when you don’t answer my calls and do everything within your power to shut me out? Any other guy would have written you off.”

  He squeezed one of my nipples and then his hand descended lower, making me catch my breath. I didn’t need more arousing. I was also about a gnat’s breath from coming.

  “But you’re not just any other guy are you? I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I should have confided in you when I first knew. But it’s hard to do that when everything around me is self-destructing.”

  “All the more reason why you should have said something. A trouble halved and all that.”

  He hugged me hard and I could imagine the sad puppy dog expression on his face. The look that always managed to melt my heart and get him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself in.

  “I suppose, and I’m really sorry, Drew. Forgive me?”

  “Yes. But now let’s drop the subject. And turn around so I can wash your back.”

  “Oh.” He hesitated, looking a tad disappointed. “Is that’s all you’re going to do?”

  “It depends on what you want. I thought we were just having a shower.” I opened the bottle of shower gel and poured a little over his shoulders and let it trickle down his back.

  “That tickles.”

  “It’s supposed to. So, what’s your pleasure?” I teased, pretending like I didn’t know what he wanted.

  He smacked his hand against the shower wall. “Suck me, fuck me, I don’t care. Just love me, babe. I’m feeling so damn needy I’ll settle for whatever little crumbs you’re willing to give me.”

  I laughed and gave him another smack on the butt. “S’okay, I get the message, so you can quit the play-acting. Just assume the position and hold still, okay?”

  I wanted to give Michael the world and everything in it. I wanted to tell him how much he really meant to me, and that without him I was nothing. Instead, I started by massaging his neck and shoulders, digging deep to release the tight muscles. As he began to relax, I moved slowly down his back and over his hips. Then I concentrated on his butt, stroking and squeezing, then working the sphincter until he groaned with frustration and began pushing against my hands.

  “If you’re going to fuck me, babe, please, do it now. You know where the supplies are.”

  Michael usually liked to be the one in control during our lovemaking. But there were times, like now, when he was feeling down or things weren’t going his way, he needed something more than sexual release. He needed the kind of up-close togetherness that came with knowing someone truly understood and cared about him. I wanted to give him that.

  I rinsed off the soap, turned the shower down to a trickle and took a condom from the caddy. O
nce I’d suited up, I reached for the lube, ran a finger down his crack and checked the muscle. He was still too tight and since I didn’t want to hurt him, I inserted a liberal shot of lube in his hole and slathered more on myself. I then parted his ass cheeks, placed the head of my cock against his anus and, as I pushed gently forward, he pushed back. I withdrew a little, wrapped my arms around his waist and this time made it all the way in.

  “Feel good?”

  He sighed and wiggled his butt. “Feels fucking marvelous. For God’s sake don’t stop.”

  I doubt I could have stopped, but I pulled out, then slammed in hard, quickly establishing a rhythm. I wished I could slow down and make it last longer, but I was as every bit as needy as Michael. Everything within me was tightening, moving higher and higher, and I was having trouble holding on. I closed my eyes and prayed for just a few more seconds. I slowed my strokes, then reached down, grasped his thick, hard cock and pumped like hell.

  I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I was about to lose it. Then Michael’s body stiffened and his dick jerked a couple of time. The next thing it was over and we were holding on to one another, trying to catch our breath and stay upright.

  “Wow! Fast and dirty, but good.” Michael laughed and pulled back so he could look at me. “I needed that. Really. But I have a question.”

  “And that is?”

  He bent his head and rubbed his nose against mine. “Do we still get to have that nice long cuddle?”

  “Why not? Night’s still young.” Michael was a few years older than me, so I smiled at him slyly. “Of course, that’s if you figure you can handle it.”

  “Hey! I’m forty-five, not a hundred and five. I’m still in my prime.”

  “So you say. Once we’ve finished here and dried off, I’ll warm up that coffee I made, and you can prove it. Deal?”

  “Absolutely.” He grinned as he turned up the spray and helped himself to shower gel. “The way I’m feeling that won’t be a problem.”

  * * *

  I awoke early next morning. Michael was still asleep and, as usual, Marmalade was wedged between us hogging the pillows. After the way Michael had excelled himself last night, proving he was far from past his prime, I figured he deserved an extra hour to recoup his strength. The sky outside was grey, but there was enough light for me to find my clothes without disturbing him. I dressed quickly, dropped a kiss on his head, gave Marmalade a pat, and snuck out of the apartment.

  The weather outside was brisk, as the Brits say. As far as I was concerned, with the combination of damp and the temperature at what felt like zero, it was fucking freezing. I couldn’t get back to Jasper’s fast enough.

  Once there, I had a quick shave, changed my clothes, stopped by the dining room for a coffee and a croissant, and made it to Sparrowdine’s as Paul was unlocking the door. Another man was with him. He was tall and slim like Paul, with a dazzling smile that could probably have got him into the movies or put his face on a dozen magazine covers.

  “Hi, Drew.” Paul switched on the lights, then held the door open so I could follow the two of them inside and closed it behind me. “This is Nico, my partner. Nico meet Drew McEvoy. Nico got back early from his trip.” Nico and I shook hands, and Paul continued. “I told him you would be taking over the apartment, and now he’s wondering if you’d be interested in any of his furniture. I don’t have room for it all.”

  “Sure.” I looked at Nico. “I’ve been living in a hotel since I came over and I don’t have a thing. If you want to make up a list of items and prices and let me know when it’s convenient, I’ll be happy to check it out.” I took a business card from my wallet and handed it to him. “You can call me at the office or on my mobile. I’m usually available.”

  Nico nodded. “Thanks. Sounds good. Give me a couple of days to get things organized, and I’ll be in touch.”

  * * *

  When Nico called me two days later, I was at Michael’s. We were trying to watch an old black and white movie while Marmalade was doing everything in his power to redirect our attention to himself. He’d pawed our legs, tossed his toys all over the room and, when that didn’t work, he’d managed to get between us and roll on his back for a belly rub.

  I was about to give in to his lordship’s demands when my phone rang.

  Figuring it must be some kind of emergency connected to work, I answered.

  “Hi, this is Drew.”

  “Hi, Drew. Nico D’Angelo here. I have that list ready. When’s a good time for you?”

  I checked my watch. It was still early. “You want to do it now or some other time?”

  “Now would great. I’m here at the apartment if you want to come over.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll grab a cab and see you shortly.”

  I disconnected and put the phone back in my pocket.

  “Who was that?” Michael asked with a yawn.

  “The current tenant of our new apartment. He wants to get rid of some of his furniture. It looked nice from what I saw of it and I have first right of refusal.”

  “Your new apartment.”

  I swallowed a small surge of irritation. “Whatever. It’s Marmalade’s new home, so make like a good parent and go get your coat because you’re coming with me.”

  He yawned again, then looked up at me and grinned. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  When we arrived at the apartment, Paul was also there. Nico indicated the furniture he said he no longer needed, which was almost everything, and told me how much he wanted for each piece.

  Michael helped me check it over. It all appeared to be in perfect condition, as if it had been barely used, and the price was less than I’d expected. Michael said he liked the apartment and the furniture and that everything was top quality. After he whispered that I’d be getting myself a bargain with the furniture, I said yes to it all. This way, no matter what Michael ended up doing, I’d been saved the bother of shopping for new and camping out on a hardwood floor waiting for it to be delivered.

  As we were leaving, Nico invited us to join Paul and himself for a drink in the restaurant downstairs where he introduced us to the owner, who happened to be his Uncle Tony and my new landlord.

  “I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable,” Tony assured me. “But anything you need, you just tell me or my wife, okay?”

  He called a waiter over, told him to bring us a bottle of wine on the house, then bustled off, shouting out orders on his way.

  “So where did you two meet?” Paul asked after the wine arrived and Nico had poured each of us a glass.

  “Here in London.” I looked at Michael, who smiled and squeezed my knee. I then explained about the teashop. How I’d fallen for him literally by taking a tumble down a flight of stairs, and how I was supposed to have gone home the next day.

  “Sounds a little like our story,” Nico observed. “Paul and I met in Rome while waiting for a train that never arrived. I needed to be somewhere in a hurry and when I found out about a flight cancellation, I just took off. It didn’t occur to me until later all we knew about each other was our first names.”

  “So how did you guys manage to reconnect?” Michael asked.

  “Pure coincidence.” Paul reached for his glass and took a sip of wine. “Almost two years later, we both happened to be travelling on the same train. I told myself I was imagining things when I saw someone I thought was Nico. Nico had the same reaction when he thought he saw me. Except he was smart enough to follow me out of the station and double check. Otherwise we’d still be looking and hoping for a miracle

  * * *

  The last few days before the holiday went by fast, and suddenly it was Christmas Eve.

  The morning was sunny but cold with a definite hint of snow in the air. I collected Michael and Marmalade just after breakfast for the drive down to Henley. Marmalade didn’t appreciate being shut up in a pet carrier and voiced his displeasure by yowling on and off the entire journey. At least traffic was light at this
hour of the morning and we made it to Michael’s parents’ place just before lunch.

  “You’re early.” Michael’s mother, Maggie, greeted her son with a hug and me with a handshake. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until much later.”

  “I did, but we wanted to avoid the traffic. Where’s Dad?”

  “Replacing burned-out Christmas tree lights. He’s almost finished, and I was about to make us something to eat. Nothing fancy. Cheese and pickle sandwiches and a pot of tea. There’s plenty if you two want to join us.”

  The house was filled with all the usual Christmassy smells of baking, roasting meat, and pine branches, and I felt a moment’s homesickness as I stepped inside. It reminded me of home and my own family and Christmases past. I said hi to Alf, Michael’s dad, who was knee-deep in strings of Christmas tree lights, and made a mental note to call my own parents a little later.

  Marmalade was quite at home once Michael let him out of the carrier. I’d been concerned about him running off if an outside door was left open, but I needn’t have worried. Marmie knew exactly which side his cookies were buttered and also who did the buttering. Wherever Michael and I were, so was his lordship, preening and purring like he had the world by the tail.

  The four of us spent the afternoon listening to carols and exchanging Christmas memories. One memory in particular was when I’d gone skating and fallen through the ice after being expressly told not to go near the pond. Another was getting stuck in a department store elevator in downtown Toronto on Christmas Eve and thinking we’d be there the entire holiday and miss Santa’s visit.

  After a while, the memories started to get to me, so I snuck off to our room and called my mom. She said she’d been expecting me to call, thanked me for the gifts I’d sent, and got all weepy because I wouldn’t be there with the rest of the family for Christmas dinner. Once she’d calmed down and I’d spoken to my dad and one of my sisters, I was feeling a little emotional myself, so I told Mom to wish everyone a Happy Christmas from me and hung up.