A Novel Christmas

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  ‘I know the words have dried up, but bloody hell you’re hard work today,’ Drew laughed.

  ‘Sorry. I’m thinking about a scene that isn’t quite pulling together. It feels like something’s missing, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

  ‘Is it your characters? The plot? Have you come to a dead end?’

  ‘I know my characters. They’re the first place I start when I’m plotting. I write their bios, CVs, job references. I think about what restaurant they would choose to go to, what their final meal would be, how they treat their parents, friendships, personality traits until I know them so well, they feel like friends.’

  ‘That’s dedication,’ he replied.

  ‘I have to know them to write their story. How can I do them justice if I don’t?’

  ‘Makes sense,’ he said, smiling. ‘You’ll work it out. Have you planned the ending yet?’

  ‘No. I wish I knew how their story is going to end.’

  Drew squeezed my hand tighter, dropping it to pull me into him. I wrapped my hands around his waist, melted into the gentle sweeps of his thumb against my cheeks.

  ‘I wish I knew too,’ he replied before we lost ourselves in a kiss.

  ‘Romances have to have a happily ever after,’ I whispered against his skin, kissing his neck, understanding why I didn’t feel so cold anymore. I was wrapped in him.

  ‘That’s why they’re fantasies. A place to get lost once in a while.’

  ‘What a wonderful place to be,’ I replied, teasing his mouth with mine.

  ‘Fantasy and imagination always are,’ he said, taking my mouth. The kiss was deep and searching, and when the world finally stopped spinning, I touched my lips, my fingers pressing the flesh, knowing that after his kiss, my mouth would always belong to him. ‘Can we go home now?’ he asked, breathy and full of want. ‘I don’t care about food. Christmas dinner can wait until next year.’ We pressed our heads together and everything else slipped away, and it was just us, in a good place and forgetting about our fears. Why did we fear this? I’d forgotten—hoped he had too. What we had was destined to be enjoyed, meant to be devoured. Rejoiced in. Cherished.

  ‘I was beginning to think you two had been swept away by the tides and I’d find Karensa under water, consumed by the sea. But it looks like you’ve been consumed by something else.’ We broke apart to find Brian hanging out the window of a battered old Land Rover, the paint long since peeled off, and a door a different shade of rust to the rest. He winked at Drew, smiled at me and threw a thumb into the back of the car. ‘Get in, lovebirds. I have your Christmas feast waiting.’

  ‘Hi, sweetheart! Happy Christmas Eve!’

  Mum was balancing the phone and a drink. She wasn’t great at Skyping at the best of times, but a slightly tipsy, incapacitated Mum was even worse.

  ‘Happy Christmas. It looks like you’ve got the party started early.’

  ‘We’re about to go to a Christmas hot tub party, so I can’t chat.’ I wasn’t sure what kind of cruise they were on, but sign me up for next year. ‘How’s the sexy woodcutter?’

  ‘Shush,’ I said, my hands wafting across my mouth. ‘He’s here.’ Drew appeared behind me, dropping himself onto the sofa. I turned to see him smirking.

  ‘Have you invited him for dinner?’ she asked in a sort of whisper-shout that did nothing to hide what she was trying to say.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She won’t be lonely this Christmas,’ she shouted to someone I presumed was Dad. She flashed his face on the camera and I’m sure I spotted a thumbs up.

  ‘Talk soon, Mum. Enjoy your party and Happy Christmas.’

  ‘Happy Christmas, sweetheart.’

  I felt a hand on my lower back, a kiss to my neck. Drew pulled my sweater down one shoulder, exposing me, planting another kiss there. I gasped, my head dropping back as I enjoyed the moment more than I ever had with another man. Drew did something to me. Sparks ignited with just a brush of his hand against my skin. A firm pull of my clothes and a kiss to my collarbone had me all kinds of hot.

  ‘Sexy woodcutter,’ he said, trailing his finger across the dip of my shoulder. ‘Is that me?’

  ‘Sexy everything,’ I moaned as his tongue danced against my skin. Little flicks and deep kisses followed.

  ‘Sexy fool,’ he replied, his kisses didn’t stop.

  ‘You’re not a fool,’ I said, reaching my arms behind him, moaning as his hand slid down my sweater to my breast. A small squeeze thrilled me. A firm grasp made me fall. His finger traced the edge of the lace that covered me like he couldn’t wait to get it out of the way, to hold my naked breast in his hand without barriers. He hooked his finger in and pulled down the cup, circling his fingertip across my swollen nipple.

  ‘You make me feel off kilter. Make me question myself.’ A pinch made me shout out. ‘What am I going to do about that?’

  ‘Listen,’ I gasped as he rolled the stiff peek between his fingers.

  ‘Tell me you want me.’

  ‘You know I do.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he rasped.

  ‘I want all of you.’

  ‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’ He pulled the chair around in one swoop, turning me to face him. His hands spread my legs apart swiftly and as he got down on his knees, he leant into my thighs, my groin, my…oh God. ‘I want to kiss your mouth when I’m inside you.’ He inhaled. His head still against me, the pressure starting the thud of a pulse, the pounding of desire, harsh flutters of need.

  ‘Take me to bed,’ I whispered.

  His head lifted, his gaze burning mine. He pulled me forward by my thighs, his fingers working to unbutton my jeans, sliding my underwear across and into my centre. ‘Cal,’ he rasped, his face serious. He closed his eyes, pressed his mouth together opening it slightly as his finger moved inside of me. I gripped his neck, pulled him into me, raked my hands through his hair. ‘Fuck, Cal…I need you more than you’ll ever know.’

  ‘Take me.’

  He lifted me up, moaning as I wrapped my legs around him, panting as our mouths crashed together. He climbed the stairs, his hands gripping me, the kiss matching his pressure before he placed me down on the steps, yanking my jeans down with me, my underwear hanging on one hip, the other side exposing the strip of hair that was fascinating him. His finger slid down the curls, another inhale, another moan.

  ‘I don’t want to fuck you on the stairs,’ he said, his finger sliding inside me. ‘You mean more. Deserve more. Worship. Idolisation. Fucking devotion.’ I arched my back, raising my pussy to his mouth. He kissed me there, and my reservations fell away. ‘Kiss my cock.’

  I grappled with his jeans, tugging them down to his knees, unable to get them further as he straddled the stairs. His boxers followed, allowing his huge erection to spring free. I held it in my hands, relishing the feel, amazed that he was hard, just for me, that I had caused the swelling and the rush. I wrapped my lips around the crown and slid him inside my mouth, inch by perfect inch, teasing the head, flicking my tongue around the veins, deeper and deeper with every one of his moans.

  ‘Cal. Fuck. I can’t let you go.’ I slipped him out of my mouth, my lips full and plump as he watched himself leave my throat. With his hands on my cheeks, he lifted my face and slowly licked my bottom lip. I had never wanted a man more. ‘My future fucking longs for you.’

  ‘I thought you couldn’t promise me a future. That you’ve been hurt, can’t give me more. Do you remember saying that?’

  He pushed my leg against my chest, exposing my pussy, opening it wider and watching like it was the most precious thing in the world. His hand moved to my throat, gentle yet rough, asking me to join him in this moment of ecstasy. This piece of exhilaration. Claiming me, finally claiming me, before he opened himself to me and said, ‘Make me forget.’

  Chapter 25

  Cal

  Drew stayed the night. It wasn’t something he did often. I could count on one hand the number of nights he’d stayed until mo
rning. But this morning felt different, like something had shifted. He hadn’t fucked me to oblivion on the kitchen countertop. He hadn’t pushed me against the wall and got out the frustrations that could only be reached through frantic sex. He’d made love to me. Treated me like I was his world—like I’d given him relief and taken away his doubts. As he slid himself inside me, kissed me, whispered words of love and companionship…he asked me to stay with him at Karensa.

  A few more days, maybe weeks. More. We needed more.

  After promising I would speak to Gerry about extending my time here, Drew continued reading A Christmas Carol to me, remembering it was my tradition on Christmas Eve, and as I wrapped myself around him and melted into his long, leisurely strokes against my hair, I thanked my lucky Christmas stars that Drew had been brought into my life.

  Drew fell asleep with the book at the side of him, but I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and typed out a quick email to Gerry explaining that I needed more time to polish the manuscript and asking if I could stay for another month. He replied immediately, another creative soul who often found the stillness of night a perfect time to work. He gave me until the end of January, citing that he would need to run it past Drew. I laughed at that, replying before closing off the phone that I was sure he would be accommodating.

  I lay back, facing the ceiling. My mind was racing, but I felt cleansed. Happy. Ready to write. But the words didn’t belong to the unfinished manuscript about the mountain man on my laptop. They belonged to something else. Another love story. Ours. A tale of friends to lovers. A man crippled with fear about loving again. A story about overcoming despair. Not allowing the past to dictate the future. Redemption and triumph. What better love story than that?

  Our love story was the ultimate romance novel inspiration.

  I felt the mattress shift as I thought through the chapters, how I was going to outline it, wondering how the epilogue would wonderfully round off the story, when I felt his arm around my waist.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said, pulling me into him. I felt his hardness against me.

  ‘Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he moaned as I circled my hips. ‘That’s not going to help me, is it?’

  ‘You’re rampant,’ I replied, smiling against the pillow.

  ‘For you.’ He teased his thumb across my nipple and my whole body ached for him.

  ‘I’ve asked Gerry if I can stay another month. He wants to run it past the owner and I said I’m not sure if he’s going to agree…’

  ‘Done deal,’ he said, sliding his cock into me.

  ‘Ah…’

  ‘What?’ he said, teasing the pace. ‘Does that feel good?’

  ‘So good.’ He slid slowly, drawing out the pleasure of the first contact and letting it build. I gripped the pillow. ‘Jesus, I want to come.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘As soon as you slid your cock into me.’

  I heard him chuckle before that noise of fun and frivolity was replaced with a shuddering moan.

  ‘We have another month to do this,’ he said, pulling himself out of me, the tip still pressing my entrance, a brief reprieve before he pushed himself inside again. A delicious pattern I didn’t want to end.

  ‘Another month to get to know each other better,’ I said. ‘To get to know all of you.’

  ‘I know you, Cal.’ Another thrust. Right on the g-spot. ‘I fucking know you.’

  ‘What do you know?’ I whispered, closing my eyes, feeling the moment.

  His hand slipped under my knee, pulling it back over his hip, exposing me completely as he fucked me relentlessly. The pace fast and frantic and threatening to tip me over the edge at any passing second. His finger circled my clit and I was there, panting into the pillow as my orgasm rumbled through me, finally letting loose, flooding my body with pleasure. He followed, shouting out, his thrusts getting shorter but not yet stopping as he tried to ride out the last moments of his release. He turned me towards him, both hands on my hips, a kiss to my nose and a deep sigh against my cheek. Sated and happy.

  He was happy.

  Finally, he was happy.

  I brushed his hair back, smiled at his complete depletion and bit my lip. He returned a lazy smile and linked our fingers.

  ‘Tell me what you know, Drew Carolla,’ I asked again, not wanting to let his words slide away.

  He closed his eyes, his sleepy smile getting bigger. ‘I know that I’m falling in love with you.’

  I held in a gasp. Took hold of my elation. Chose my words carefully.

  ‘Are you scared?’

  ‘Terrified,’ he replied, his eyes still closed.

  ‘But what if you knew I was feeling the same way?’ I asked, stroking his face, enjoying the scruff against my fingers.

  ‘Even more so.’

  He opened one eye, carefully judging my reaction, and when he saw that I was smiling, he kissed my hand.

  ‘Small steps,’ I said.

  ‘Small steps,’ he repeated.

  ‘I want to write,’ I said, picking out my notebook from the bedside drawer and pressing it against my mouth in contemplation.

  ‘That’s good,’ he replied. ‘Capture this feeling in words.’

  ‘Elation.’

  ‘Appreciation.’

  ‘Devotion,’ I said, kissing him.

  He caught my hand. Studied it. Met his eyes with mine. ‘Infatuation.’

  ‘Great words,’ I replied.

  He was so beautiful, even more so when he was open and exposed. He lay back, reaching his arms above him. I’d never seen him look quite so relaxed. It suited him.

  ‘Cal.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I can’t imagine wanting to do this with anyone else,’ he said, still relaxed and beautiful.

  ‘What exactly are we doing?’ I whispered as I knelt next to him.

  ‘Taking risks.’

  ‘Thank you for risking everything for me,’ I replied, knowing his words meant everything to me because those words were the only Christmas present I was secretly longing for.

  ‘Is this a good time to give you your present?’ Drew asked as I dropped down on the sofa. He’d lit the fire, the Christmas tree lights were catching the bright colours of the baubles, reflecting them off the wall, and Archie was chewing on the bone I’d wrapped a bow around and left for him under the tree. The bow was demolished in 1.3 seconds, but the bone was holding its own. Christmas dinner was a triumph, an hour later—the dishes washed and put away—Drew still didn’t appear to have the onset of violent stomach cramps.

  ‘You got me a present?’ I asked as he handed me a box wrapped with paper covered in snowmen. There was a hole where his finger had gone through. As I reached for it, he pulled back.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Of course I got you a present. Are you trying to tell me you haven’t got me anything? Cal, Cal, Cal. I’m disappointed in you.’

  ‘Gimme,’ I replied, wiggling my fingers. I tore off the paper to reveal a block of wood. I held it up and pulled my eyebrows in as I studied it.

  ‘Turn it around,’ Drew said, rolling his eyes and turning it like a dice to show the words Writer’s Block. ‘Get it? Writer’s block. It’s a paperweight.’

  ‘I get it,’ I replied, nodding my head and breaking into a giggle. ‘Hilarious.’

  He dramatically fell back on the sofa as I pushed his arm, narrowing my eyes.

  ‘I may have this too.’ He sat up, slid another gift along the cushion towards me and bit his lip. I looked at it and tried to stop my smile. Opening it carefully, pulling each edge apart and drawing my finger along the sticky tape, I held it up. It was a notebook, a beautiful deep purple with gold trim. My initials were at the bottom, and in the middle in swirling gold font it said, The past doesn’t have to define you. ‘Do you recognise the quote?’ Drew asked. I nodded, pressing my fingertips to my mouth and swallowing a sob. ‘When I first read it, there was something a
bout those words that resonated with me. I’d been wrestling with my feelings towards you and all the bloody rules I’d drawn up for myself. Don’t get too close, keep your distance, protect yourself. Then I read this and thought, Why? Why was I doing that to myself? Why was I denying my life of happiness because of what happened before?’

  I closed my eyes and felt a tear travel down my cheek. I nodded again. Unable to take in the rush of emotions because sitting at my feet was a gift I’d had made for Drew—a framed picture, silver trim, black writing.

  The same quote.

  ‘Open this,’ I managed to say, handing him the gift and waiting as he pulled back the paper, much less delicately than me and propped up the frame on his knees. He looked shocked, bewildered, astounded that we had both picked out the same quote from one of my books, the same quote that I had written in my notebook while sitting on the bench on top of the hill overlooking Karensa and thinking about Drew. The quote I had written years ago about a fictitious man who couldn’t let go of the past to embrace his future. The same quote I couldn’t stop thinking about in relation to Drew.

  ‘Cal…I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that quote too. I don’t usually re-read my own books, but I looked up the original manuscript and wrote it in my notebook. I wasn’t sure if I was going to give it to you, but in the past few days, things have…changed. It felt right.’ He glanced at me, holding back his feelings with a drop of his eyes and a bite to his cheek. ‘Happy Christmas.’

  ‘You make all of this so worth it,’ he replied. ‘The fear, the despair, the cautiousness. They fall away. They keep falling away.’ I crawled over to him, straddling his legs, gasping when his hands clutched my behind as he brought me closer to him with one quick pull. Our bodies connected as our souls started intertwining too.

  ‘Let them fall,’ I replied, pressing my forehead against his, listening to the deep sigh in my ear. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Chapter 26