52. Delia
Fifty Two
Delia
T iny snowflakes have taken a stance, banded together and overthrown the sky—now they march down to earth and coat everything like a layer of dust. I love watching the snow fall. I love Christmas. It’s five a.m. and I am wide awake, waiting. I know better than to wake Mom up before six-thirty in the morning. I grab my phone and text Miles and Lyra.
Merry Christmas!
My phone pings back almost instantly with Christmas tree and Santa emojis followed by a ridiculous photo of Miles in a Santa hat with his stocking. I’m mildly jealous that Miles’ family is all up and doing things already.
I glance at the snake plant Viv gave me yesterday before we closed for the day. She said it was impossible to kill but I don’t have great luck with houseplants so only time will tell. It’s next to the bag that contains Langdon’s Christmas present. I smirk, excited to give him his gift this evening.
Merry Christmas, can’t wait to see you. I text Langdon.
Why are you up? It’s not even six yet. He responds.
I text him back. IT’S CHRISTMAS! Everyone should be up.
Babe, go back to sleep for at least an hour
I laugh and respond.
GRINCH. Xo
I tip-toe downstairs. I can’t risk waking up Mom or Gramps. Mom’s rules for Christmas morning have always been no one goes to the tree until everyone is up and ready to head to wherever we put the tree up. One apartment I had to wait at the top of the stairs until she woke up so that there was no peeking before she could supervise.
I avoid the living room and creep into the kitchen so I can make a pot of coffee. Maybe the smell will wake them up faster. Also, I want a mug. While it’s brewing, I spray a heap of peppermint whipped cream into the bottom of my mug.
The urge to peek in the living room is strong but I manage to restrain myself. I love Christmas. I love the magic, the vibe, the ambiance. Twinkling lights, warm mugs, sparkly ornaments, glitter everywhere. And the anticipation of the gifts under the tree.
I’m not a child, I know that Christmas Eve when I go to sleep Mom puts all the gifts out under the tree so that when we wake up, it looks like Santa came. Even though I don’t believe in Santa I appreciate these little traditions that make the magic still feel real. I don’t ever want to be too grown up for Christmas.
I take my mug to the top of the stairs and plant my ass down and sip my coffee while I wait for any signs of life in the bedrooms. Please wake the frick up soon.
***
It’s six p.m. All the adults and Anderson have gone to church where there’s a big family-style dinner happening. Even my mother. I almost fainted on the spot when Gramps asked her (and me) to go to the church dinner and Mom said she’d love to. They drop me off at Langdon’s on their way and Lang and I wave off his parents and Anderson and Gramps and Mom.
“I can’t believe we’re actually alone.” He wraps his arms around me and yanks me inside the front door making me laugh.
“It’s a real Christmas miracle.”
“Wanna do presents?” I ask.
“Yeah. But like, do you wanna take off your coat first?” He reaches for the zipper but I swat his hand away and blush.
“I’m cold. It’s fine. Where’s my gift?” I laugh out.
Lang grabs my hand and tugs me past the living room, where their tree is lit in simple white lights and lots of gold sparkly baubles, and yanks me up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom door.
“You put my present in your room?” I ask. I could not have planned this any better.
“Actually, my room… sorta is your present,” he says before kissing my forehead and telling me to close my eyes. “You definitely won’t need your coat though.” If he only knew .
He pulls me through the door with a hand slapped over my eyes.
“Okay, open,” he says and removes his hand.
Lang has decorated his bedroom as a tropical getaway. There are beach towels on the bed and a small kiddie pool on the floor next to it. Inflatable Flamingos perched in two corners. Palm tree blow-ups. Leis, one of which he hooks over my head. There are pineapple candles. He strips off his sweater—it’s warm in here, like tropical warm—to reveal a Hawaiian shirt. Beach sounds on his speaker fill the room. A space heater runs in one corner. His room is covered in little fairy lights. I gasp and slap a hand over my heart. It’s amazing, thoughtful and so…fun.
“You said you wanted to be somewhere tropical…this is the best I could do,” he says.
I push up on my toes and kiss him. “It’s amazing. Perfect! I love it! ”
“Care to lay by the pool?” he chuckles.
“Absolutely,” I say, “Mind finding us a spot?”
Langdon rubs the back of his neck, smiles, and leaps onto one of the beach towels before patting the other in invitation.
The moment of truth has come and suddenly I’m nervous, even though Lyra said what I got was absolutely smokin’ and would blow any dude’s mind. I pinch the zipper pull on my jacket and slowly lower it.
“I hope you like your gift,” I whisper as his eyes follow the zipper.
The jacket parts and I slide it off each shoulder until the coat hits the floor and I’m standing in lingerie so strappy and lacey and skimpy that I might as well be naked.
Langdon swallows as his eyes widen slightly and his eyebrows flash up and hold.
“Holy shit,” he whispers.
My cheeks flush and the room suddenly feels ten degrees hotter as he takes me in. I have the overwhelming desire to move closer to him. To touch him. My stomach flutters as his lips part and he stares slack-jawed, the pulse in his throat throbs. He wipes his palms on his knees then pushes to stand up. My whole body tingles as he approaches.
Langdon’s fingertips make contact first and I swear my skin is on fire as they glide over me. He pulls me flush against him, wets his lips .
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Do you like it?” I say, “Your present?”
His lips ghost mine. “Best. Present. Ever.”
His warm lips move against mine, softly to start but ravenously in no time at all. He walks us to the bed as his hands roam my body. He pulls me down on top of him and fumbles with the lingerie while kissing me.
“How does this come off?” he chuckles against my neck. I’m breathless and hungry for him. I need all the clothes off. Mine, his. All of it.
Straddling him, I sit up and yank at his shirt. He raises his arms for me and flings the shirt to the end of the bed. I shimmy out of the lingerie as gracefully as possible—which isn’t all that graceful. His pants get shucked off, pooling on the floor just below where his feet hang off. He’s huffing out breaths. I’m heaving too. His hands cup my breasts and a moan slips between my lips.
“You like that?”
I nod. My fingers hook the waistband of his boxers and pull. Langdon arches his back—lifting me with him—to slide the boxers out of the way. We’ve never been this naked together. This close. His hands clutch my hips, holding me steady. I run my hands along his chest, his hard abs, lower. He is magnificent. Literally the most glorious thing I’ve seen.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks while quietly exploring my skin with his fingertips.
“I’m sure. ”
He jackknifes up and I squeal at the sudden movement. His mouth is on my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. His erection presses forcefully between my legs. I want him inside me.
“You should put something on before we forget,” I mumble while trying to stop grinding against him.
One hand shoots out and slaps around on his nightstand until a condom appears between us. I lean back and watch as he slides it down his shaft. I bite my bottom lip. He pulls it free then kisses me slowly—deeply.
“I fucking adore you,” he says.
I place a hand on either side of his face to really look at him. “I adore you too, now let’s do it.”
I push his chest until he’s flat on his back. My hands reach for his cock and I center myself over it desperate to know what he’ll feel like inside me.