Christmas With the Biker

by Neya Fang

  He was the handsome Apollyon, the Lucifer of the Earth.

  My god, the man was hot, so hot my ass clenched when I took a whiff of him. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling it brought inside me, but my eyes snapped open, breaking the spell by that wretched woman.

  She sputtered, her eyes about popped out and she blinked several times before standing straight. “Assault? I didn’t assault him.” She sniffed and pressed her lips tight. “You can’t talk nonsense like that, spreading false rumors.”

  “The blood and scratch on his arm say otherwise.” He pointed to my bleeding arm. “It’s in your best interest to give it back to him. You don’t want the cops cuffing you in front of everyone here.” He pointed behind her.

  The woman and I both looked over her shoulder and noticed several people watching us. Some with cameras out and pointing in our direction.

  The realization that I was being watched, being recorded on camera gave way to panic building at a rapid speed. My stomach churned, and the tingling in my limbs spiked.

  I was dizzy, my chest tightening.

  I couldn’t breathe. My insides were quivering.

  I shouldn’t have gone out today. Shouldn’t have left my house. I was not cut out for this world. Soon, everyone who recorded us would post the video on social media. I’d be mocked, laughed at, made fun of on the internet.

  Sweat trickled down my spine, sticking to my shirt, itching my back. I could feel the heart palpation, the emergence of this strong feeling of locking myself in a dark room.

  I needed to get out of here. I needed to get out of this city.

  I whirled on my toes, ready to bolt, but a strong arm snaked around my chest, halting my body from moving any further, and pulled me closer to it.

  I was shaking, tremors after tremors rippling through my body. The shallow breaths I was taking wasn’t sufficient. I needed more.

  I felt like clawing my own flesh, tearing my clothes off.

  Hide.

  Hide.

  Hide.

  My mind demanded. It screamed with a vengeance.

  My heart cried. Cried at the demand of hiding somewhere in the dark. Cried at my misery.

  It was breaking. Shattering all over the place.

  “L-l-l-le-le-let me g-go,” I wheezed the words out, struggling in his arms, scraping his hand.

  “Settle down, boy. No one will hurt you. I won’t let them. I’ll protect you. Trust me.” The words were whispered in my ear, slowly, softly, yet firm.

  I focused on the voice, letting it seep into my body like blood in my veins, taking root in my head. It stripped away all the emotional turmoil I was feeling just moments ago. It was like the voice had taken over my control and I was happy to give it up.

  I felt light.

  Free.

  A calmness washed over me like a cloak, protecting me from the unknown, from the whole world.

  My body relaxed immediately, going lax again him, and my eyes closed on their own accord. My brain wasn’t thinking anymore. I had no worries, no fear to fight against underlying thoughts to content wit. I was in paradise, an alternate altered reality, and nothing but only peace surrounded me. My deep-seated fantasies of being at peace, of being protected and cared for came to life in that instance.

  For the first time in my life, I felt I belonged. Belonged to live this life.

  I was so lost, I didn’t even know what was happening around me. I was too busy feeling the strong arm around me, hear the husky voice in my head.

  All I wanted was to have the whole body that was supporting me right then behind me, cuddling me on the bed. Feel the heat of his body bleeding into me, his fingers gliding, rolling over my cold skin.

  A sigh escaped my mouth, suddenly feeling tired and ready to crash.

  Chapter 2

  Crane

  The nerve of that bitch. First, she snatched the bedding set out of the cutie’s hand, and then she had the gall to scratch his arm, making him bleed.

  I wanted to smack her on the head for doing so, but I didn’t hit women. In fact, I didn’t hit anyone. Hated raising my hands. I had that enough growing up from my father. I loathed fighting, or arguing for that matter, with anyone.

  And this woman reminded me of my father. He always thought he was right, his words the holy grail. He could never be wrong. He ruled our house with an iron fist.

  Fuck. Why was I thinking about him?

  He was of no consequence to me. Hadn’t been in years.

  I looked down at the cutie who was limp my arms. He wasn’t unconscious. I could feel him breathing, his chest moving against my arms and chest.

  I should get him out of here.

  I looked to the nasty woman, who thought I wasn’t watching her and was trying to escape with the bedding set.

  “Not so fast, Lolita.” I adjusted the cutie’s body, pressing him with only one arm against my chest and holding out the other. “Hand me back the bedding set that belongs to him, or I’m calling the cops right now. The choice is yours.” I shrugged my shoulders and raised my brow, challenging her to test me.

  She huffed, clenched her jaw, gritted her teeth, but returned the bedding set, placing it in my outstretched hand.

  Wise decision.

  I dropped the set in his cart and gave her a jerky nod. “Now scuttle off and make wiser choices.”

  She sniffed and lifted her chin, pulling her shoulders back. “Whateva.” Flicking her blond hair over her shoulder, she walked away from us.

  Good riddance.

  I turned the cutie so his was face me. His eyes were open, but dazed. A warm, ecstatic glow was cast upon his face. He gave me a lazy smile and moved his lips as if saying something of importance to me, then closed his eyes.

  My heart skipped a beat, then raced at lightning speed, and my pulse quickened too. I was breathless in the span of a few seconds since that smile stretched his lips up.

  And the look on his face was familiar. So so familiar. I’d seen it several times on numerous subs’ and boys’ and littles’ faces during and after a scene with their dominant partner or daddy.

  He was in subspace.

  But how?

  How could he be without even being in a scene or even without knowing me.

  I was perplexed.

  I had never seen a sub or a boy enter into a subspace this fast, and without even participating in basic mindfulness.

  This was baffling, was the understatement of the year. Wow. I mean really wow.

  I was breathless. Felt my pulse in my throat

  Fuck, I would love to work with him. Study his body, his soul. His fears and worries. Get him in the zone, where nothing exists but just the two of us and our bodies.

  What I wouldn’t give to have him with me. Be only mine. Forever.

  I wanted to lean down and kiss his open lips. They looked soft, so rosy and full, and run my fingers through his thick mane of hair, down his throat. I desired to touch him in all the places.

  I felt a pull toward him. A sense of destiny of belonging together.

  Was he the one for me?

  The boy I was waiting for all the years?

  Was he my gift for this Christmas from Santa?

  If yes, then I was abso-fucking-lutely thrilled. Joyed beyond words.

  I had a feeling he was. My boy. He was my dream boy whom I’d been waiting for, and now he was here in my arms.

  I still couldn’t believe Santa gave me my present early. I wasn’t complaining, just happy.

  I thanked Santa for my amazing goody and promised him I’ll always believe in him. I was going to cherish my boy and love him and take care of him. Starting at that moment my job was to tend to him.

  I looked around me and found a few people still staring at us. “Does anyone have a bottle of water with them?”

  A mother of two removed sealed water bottled from her handbag and handed it to me. “Here you go, mister.”

  I sat down and rested his head in the crook on my arm, then opened the b
ottle cap and placed the mouth of the bottle in front of his lips. He drank it greedily, few sips spilling down the corner of his lips. After I was satisfied he drank enough, I placed the bottle on the floor next to me and wiped his mouth and neck with the hem of my T-shirt.

  His eyes fluttered open, breath hitching. “W-w-what happened?” He croaked.

  I opened my mouth to say something to him, but the woman who handed me the water beat me to it. “You fainted, sweetie.”

  “Oh.” He looked around him, his neck craning like a giraffe, and when he saw plenty of people surrounding us, he scrambled out of my arms and stood on shaky legs.

  I could see he didn’t like having so much attention on him. His gaze was lowered. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes. Biting his lip, he fidgeted with the cart handle, cheeks flushed and bouncing from foot to foot.

  I moved closer to him and whispered in his ears, “Are you okay?”

  For a fleeting beat his eyes connected with mine, but then he looked away. “Y-yeah. Yes, I m-mean.”

  His eyes were a beautiful shade of turquoise green. Full of wonder and longing and fear.

  “I understood the first time too.” I gave him a genuine smile to erase the sting in my words. I needed to be careful with my tone. I could see he got nervous when someone talked to him in a loud, stern voice. He looked fragile and ready to break.

  My heart ached to pull him into my arms and hold him there. The longing I felt in that moment was a hundred times more than ever before.

  He was for me.

  Mine.

  Mine alone.

  God, I longed to make him mine. He was perfect for me. Just perfect. Beautiful, chubby, cubby, and so innocent. Old too, but just what I wanted in my boy.

  Standing next to him, I rubbed his back, running my palm up and down, feeling the tremors going down his spine.

  I watched him squeeze his eyes and a beat later a whimper spilled through his slightly parted lips.

  Instantly, my cock hardened in my jeans. Watching the way his skin was turning into a shade of red, the way his breathing accelerated was so erotic. Thank fuck for the invention of tight, skinny jeans. They were the savior in those types of situations.

  A hand landed on my shoulders. “You should take care of that wound on his arm. You don’t want it to infected. God knows where all that woman’s hands have been. Here…” she handed me a disinfectant wipes, a tiny tube, and a bandage. “…wipe the wound with this and then apply the antiseptic cream and at last the bandage.”

  I raised my brows at all the stuff she handed me, kept my mouth shut from asking any stupid questions.

  “I’m a mother of two toddlers. I always have to be prepared for the unexpected.” She shrugged her shoulders to say, ‘what can I do, I’m a mom.’

  I wisely did what she asked me to do and tended to his wounds. After placing the bandage on it, I kissed it.

  “There you go. Your booboo is all taken care of.”

  A pretty blush covered his whole pale flesh, and a shy smile stretched his plump lips.

  “T-thank you.”

  “Mention not, cutie.”

  He choked on his own breath, his hand fluttering nervously in front of him.

  The boy was sexy.

  “I s-should... I should get these billed. T-thank you for stepping in when that woman was getting nasty. I appreciate it.” He nodded, then turned to push his cart to the checkout counter.

  Instant panic built inside me, squeezing my chest tight. I was afraid of losing him, of never seeing him again, so I did something I’d never done before. I pleaded. “Let me come with you, please. I’ll just stand next to you while you get your items billed.”

  “Wha—why?” He looked up, his wide eyes searching mine.

  Why?

  I couldn’t tell him why. He’d think I was obsessed over him after spending a few minutes with him. He’d think of my behavior as stalker-ish, so I lied. “I don’t trust that woman to not come looking for you. Especially if she sees you are alone. So please let me accompany you. Okay?”

  He gazed at me intently, searching for something, and when he found it, he nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Excellent. Let’s go.” I took the cart of his hand and push it to the nearest billing counter. I didn’t wait for him to follow me, or look over my shoulder to see the disbelief on his face, because I knew I’d find him perplexed by my attitude.

  In my defense, all I would like to say is, boys shouldn’t strain themselves with such heavy, mundane tasks unless a daddy’s asked them to.

  But he doesn’t know you are his daddy.

  True, he didn’t, and I’d rectify that error as soon as possible if we weren’t in the shop right then. “Soon,” I told myself.

  As soon as the billing was done, I took the bag from his hand.

  He opened his mouth to protest, but I placed my index finger on his lips, stopping the fight I knew he was getting ready for.

  “Let me, please. I don’t want you to strain yourself after the ordeal you went through today.” Yeah, I knew I was spewing horseshit, but I’d do anything to spend more time with him. Even lying.

  Transferring the bags in my left hand, I grabbed his arm with my right and guided him to a restaurant I saw just a few feet away.

  “Let’s go eat something, okay?” I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m sure you are hungry, because I definitely am after all the shopping.”

  He raised his brow and looked down at the only bag—his shopping bag—in my hand.

  Yeah, I was losing my edge.

  “But you didn’t s-shop.”

  “I mostly did window shopping. Nothing appealed to me.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I was just looking around to buy Christmas gifts for my family and friends now because of all the deals. So I can relax and enjoy Christmas without worrying about buying stuff for family and friends.”

  He gave me a meek nod and followed me.

  I chose a corner seat so we could sit and talk peacefully—more like I could talk and he’d listen. The boy was very shy and quiet, I didn’t think he’d talk much, except reply with one or two words.

  After reading the menu, I looked up and saw him studying me. I smiled and winked at him. He averted his gaze immediately and his ears pinked, a slow flush raising down his neck and over his cheeks.

  The boy sure blushes prettily.

  Very cute.

  “Shall I order for us?”

  Another small nod.

  That would not do.

  “Words, boy.”

  His breath hitched and he peered at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, please, sir.”

  My heart skipped a beat and warmth filled my chest at being called sir, but I would love being called his daddy, and hopefully, he’d be singing that name for the rest of his life. I just needed to be patient.

  All good things come to those who wait.

  Well, I’d waited long enough, I would think.

  I placed our order as soon as the waiter came, then I took his hand in mine and got to the point. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “W-what?” he squeaked, eyes widening.

  “A boyfriend?”

  He shook his head. “N-no. Never had one.”

  What? How was that possible? He was so handsome, down to Earth, and a perfect boy. He should have had snagged a daddy by now, and at his age at least married to a daddy by now.

  “Never?” I asked again just to clarify once more.

  He shook his head.

  But why? Doesn’t he want a partner or a daddy? Be loved, be cared for, and protected by a daddy? Take the burdens of life off his shoulder? I mean he was a perfect boy who needed an honest daddy, that’s all.

  “A d-daddy? Wh-what?”

  Oh shit! Looked like I spoke my thoughts out. Well, nothing I could do about that. Might as well explain to him what it’s meant.

  “Yeah, you know a daddy? Have you heard of it?”

  There he went
again, shaking his head instead of talking.

  “Words, boy.”

  He flushed, fidgeting in his seat, delaying a verbal reply.

  “Tell me,” I said softly.

  “Does daddy mean... like c-calling my father daddy?”

  “Well, yeah something like that, but you call your partner or dom as daddy. You call them daddy out of respect. It’s a special word a boy uses for their partner. And a daddy is someone who takes care of you, loves you, protects you. Your daddy is more than a regular boyfriend. He’s the owner of your body, soul, and heart. He sets rules and guides you, takes away your burdens life has bestowed on your shoulder.”

  His lips formed an O and his eyes were huge, like headlight huge, and his breathing was slow, like he was afraid if he breathed a little faster he wouldn’t be able to hear what I was saying.

  I could tell he was focused on what I was telling him. Absorbing each and every word coming out of my mouth.

  “Now, each daddy is different. Some are on the softer side, some are strict. Some daddies have littles.”

  He tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips, his eyebrows meeting at the center of his forehead, and he scratched his temples.

  I smiled and understood what he wanted to know.

  “A little is a submissive who likes to let their inner child out. It’s sort of like role-playing a younger age. They dress the part, act and talk like a little child. They alter their voice completely to match and seem like a child. Some adults who are in high profile or stressful jobs like to be free and forget about their stress, their burden, and that’s when they prefer to be little.”

  He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Like a p-puppy play, or ki-kitten play, where they let their inner animal out. That too is role p-playing from time to time with their master. T-they dress and act like a puppy or ki-kitten.”

  “Yes, exactly like that. The littles receive great attention and babying they crave from their daddies. They also get punished when they misbehave. Like timeout in the corner, or no playing with their favorite toys, things like that.”

  He moved his head up and down, his eyebrows furrowing and then releasing again, his eyes focused on my hands.

  Suddenly his body tensed, shoulders bunching up, and he looked into my eyes. “So daddies are older guys? And... and boys are younger?”