24. It’s a Special Holiday
24
IT’S A SPECIAL HOLIDAY
CHARLES
“Good morning,” Daisy rasps in her drowsy voice.
“It definitely is a good morning.”
Her eyes move from my face to the clock behind me on the wall, and she almost jerks out of the bed. But I hold her back with my arms around her waist.
“Charles! Why are you not at your office? It’s already nine thirty.”
“Don’t worry. Hawthorne Holdings has a three-day holiday for Christmas.”
“Can you repeat that? Because it sounded like you said holiday .”
“And that’s exactly what I said, my dear wife.” Like always, whenever I call her wife, she sucks in a low breath.
“But there are no special holidays. In fact, I’m amazed the labor department isn’t knocking at your door due to the inhumane working conditions.”
“Inhumane working conditions?” I throw my head back in laughter. “Every employee who works on national holidays is paid more than their fair share. It’s a choice. We don’t force anyone.”
“I never had a choice.” She pins me with her gaze.
“Because you’re special.” I lean forward and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you see anyone else on this bed smelling so exquisite?”
She gasps and I love the way her eyes widen. Her face is like a canvas, so easy to read even for a dumb fuck like me who doesn’t understand feelings.
“And what’s the holiday about? Did you just declare Wednesday a rest day instead of Sunday?”
No one cracks me up like her. And now that I can’t and don’t need to hide my laughs and grins from her, I embrace the fresh burst of dopamine every time it bubbles inside me.
“As much as I’m honored that you think so much of me, unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power. It’s a holiday because it’s my wife’s first Christmas as a Hawthorne. Haven’t you checked your email?”
She looks at me for a second before turning around and grabbing her phone from the nightstand. The cover she’s been tugging close to her neck drops, and I get a perfect view of her slender back.
Dear all,
This is my wife’s first Christmas as a Hawthorne, and from this year on, I declare the next three days a mandatory paid vacation.
I wish you and your loved ones a happy holiday season.
- Charles A. Hawthorne
CEO, Hawthorne Holdings &
Board of Directors, Elixir Inc.
Daisy reads the email out loud.
“You really declared a three-day company holiday?” She looks at me with a starry, doe-eyed expression. “Who the heck are you and where’s my boss?”
I’m not going to tell her that if she keeps looking at me like this, that asshole might never appear.
“Do you even know what people do on a holiday?” Daisy asks slowly, still not over the shock.
“Don’t you worry about that. I have a full day planned for both of us.”
“I can’t wait to listen to your great plan.” She finally seems to have found her usual self and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure it involves going to museums and galleries and some highly posh restaurants.”
“Don’t hate it before you try it, my dear wife.” I grin. “For your information, our first stop is your dad’s house.”
I get out of bed, and satisfaction fills my heart when she keeps staring at me. I’m only wearing track pants, which I pulled on sometime later in the night. I make a meal out of it as I saunter over to the nightstand and text Mrs. Kowalski, requesting two cups of coffee.
“Are we really going to my dad’s?”
I nod. “We are going to have breakfast with him. After the news yesterday, he wants to personally make sure you’re okay.”
“And how would you know all that?”
“Because your dad told me so.”
“You’re saying that Charles Hawthorne, the man who avoids talking to people, sometimes even when there are billions of dollars at stake, talked to my dad for leisure?” Her eyebrows shoot up, nearly disappearing into her hairline.
“What can I say? He’s more interesting and fun than most people in meeting rooms.”
The words have just left my mouth when there’s a knock on the door. Daisy pulls the sheets up to her neck, but I can’t pull my gaze away from her. Sitting in the middle of my bed, wrapped in my pristine white bedcovers, she looks exquisite. Her hair is mussed from sleep. Her face is devoid of any makeup except the pink blush that makes a frequent appearance on her face these days. I could watch her like this all day, every day of my life and never get bored.
She looks thoroughly fucked, thoroughly loved, and thoroughly mine.
There’s a second knock on the door and Daisy jerks. I’m relieved. It’s not just me who can’t focus on my surroundings these days.
I’m about to open the door when she squeals. “Stop!”
I look over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“Is it Mrs. K at the door?”
I nod slowly and Daisy raises her hands up in the air in return.
“Where the heck is your shirt, Hawthorne?”
The perpetual grin on my face morphs into full-blown laughter, but I still put on a shirt.
If my wife wants me all for herself, I’m not going to complain. Ever.
When I open the door, Mrs. Kowalski is waiting patiently, holding a wooden tray with two coffee mugs that I’ve never seen in my house before.
One of them says Mr., and there’s a black mustache and a beard under the two letters written in flowing script. The second matching one says Mrs., and there’s a pink hair clip on the side.
They are too cheesy and cute.
When she finds me staring at the mugs, my housekeeper explains, “Mr. Raymond Teager’s driver dropped them off this morning. He said it was a gift from your cousin.”
“Of course it is.” I chuckle.
After yesterday’s news, my cousins must be itching to rib me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if not just Ray but all four of them are behind these coffee mug gifts.
But the joke’s on them. They might have thought I’d hate these cups, but I love them.
I place the tray on the bed, and Daisy sits straight.
“About last night,” she starts. “So, we had sex—”
“And thank God for that, because I’d hate if it was all my imagination.”
Her mouth falls open, forming a perfect O before she looks away and makes an annoyed sound.
“Why did I think you would make this conversation any easier?” she grumbles under her breath.
As much as I’ve enjoyed her annoyance over the years, I like her smiling much more.
“What’s there to discuss?”
“This.” She moves her hands between us before throwing them up in the air. “This was not a part of the plan, Charles. Was it?”
For the first time since I woke up today, an empty feeling hits me hard. The word plan surges the same feeling that has always gripped me but has been less intense since she came into my life.
“You are my wife, aren’t you?”
She turns those big, tender brown eyes on me, nodding slowly. “Yes, but—”
“There is no but. The last time I checked, there’s no rule that says it’s a crime to sleep with your wife.”
“It’s not the same for us, and you know it, Charles.” Her voice is low. “The contract—”
I’ve officially started to hate that word.
“There’s nothing about us sleeping together in the contract, is there? We are like any other married couple until one of us wants to end this relationship. Do you want to end it today?”
Discomfort grips me even saying the words, but thankfully, Daisy doesn’t keep my heart in pain for longer and immediately shakes her head.
“I don’t. But after everything that has happened in the last week, don’t you want to think more—”
“Not for a fucking second. What I want is to repeat what we did yesterday. What I really want is to finally make my wife beg. This time, possibly on her knees.”
She blinks rapidly, her gaze transfixed on me, my face, my lips, and I love it.
I love that she’s as attracted to me as I am to her.
“So it wasn’t, like, a one-time thing?” she asks carefully, biting her lip and making me crazy.
“Do you want it to be a one-time thing, Daisy?” My heart is in my throat at that question.
Please, butterfly, don’t say yes.
My prayer is answered when she once again shakes her head.
I like that I can make her speechless and throw her off-kilter for a change.
“You speak my thoughts too. So are you ready for some begging?”
“Why don’t you do it, since you looked so fine doing so last night? I’ll wait.” She finally gives me that grin, which for years I’ve considered to be my good luck charm.
“It’ll be the longest wait of your life, butterfly, given I don’t beg.”
“Really? Shall I remind you of last night?” she quips, squaring her shoulders.
“I told you it was a one-time thing.” I prowl toward her. I knew expecting her not to bring up my moment of weakness was my own stupidity.
“But you looked so good on your knees, my dear husband.” The title rolls between her lips with so much tease and I feel as if her mouth has a direct connection with my cock.
I place the coffee tray on the floor, and in the next breath, I pounce on her. She squeals like a madwoman, but I don’t let go.
I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her neck. I kiss her everywhere I can as she thrashes and laughs.
I finally pull away the covers that hide her from me.
“You’ve got no fucking idea how long you’ve been making me crazy,” I whisper in between kissing the soft skin of her neck.
Her squealing stops and she looks at me with an unfamiliar emotion. But before she can think more about the words that have slipped from my mouth by mistake, I capture her lips in mine.
I kiss her like my life depends on her touch, and it has started to feel like it does.
“You want me on my knees, Daisy? I’ll be on my knees.” I bring my feet down on the floor and drag hers along with me before my knees hit the ground. “But I promise you, I won’t be the one who’s begging today.”
Her legs hang from the edge of the bed, and she gasps when I lean forward, dropping my head to her chest. A guttural groan leaves me when I suck her nipple into my mouth. She moans, and the moment I feel her writhing on the sheets, I stop.
“Feel free to say ‘Please fuck me, husband,’ whenever you’re ready.”
Her disoriented gaze meets mine, and a beat later, she realizes my game.
Yeah, I’m going to bring her to the brink of crazy. No, I’m not going to continue until she’s begging me to.
Am I petty? Maybe I am.
But I also have a reputation to uphold.
I’m nicknamed asshole , after all. There must have been a good reason for that.
Before Daisy can move away, I drag my lips over her body. Going from one tit to another, licking those cherry nipples, sucking the valley between her girls , a memory of that nickname so clear in my head. A day that triggered everything.
I descend lower, skimming my teeth over her stomach, twirling my tongue over her navel. She sucks in a breath, and her body shakes and moves and quivers all at once.
“Ready to beg, wife?”
Her gritted whimpers fill the air as she grinds her teeth. “Fuck you, Hawthorne.”
I chuckle and nip the flesh around her waist.
I love her curves. They accentuate her beauty.
I once again get down, resting my weight on my heels, skimming my hand along her soft, silky thighs, admiring the view.
Daisy rises on her elbows and watches me as I stare at her beautiful naked body. One I’ve spent years not thinking about.
But now, I can’t just think about it. I have to make her beg for me to touch, kiss, and fuck it.
Talk about change.
Hell yeah, I’m suddenly a big fan of that c-word, among some others.
I run my thumb over her sex, gathering moisture, before I swipe all the wetness over her clit. Another favorite c-word.
She inhales sharply, but her eyes remain on my face, and I grin.
“I like knowing that I make you so fucking wet, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
She sucks in another breath as I dip my head and taste that wetness.
My tongue starts slow, just perusing for a while before I really get down to work. She starts to rock against my face, and I know I need to pull back, make her beg, but that’s so fucking hard.
Instead of pulling away, I spread her legs and dive in deeper with a snarl.
“Fuck, Charles. You’re killing me.”
I watch a shiver, and on reflex, pull away.
A cry slips out of Daisy’s lips, and that’s my undoing. I’ll never leave her wanting for anything, and certainly not for an orgasm.
This time when I dive in to eat her sex, her fingers go through my hair, pulling on it tightly, maybe to not let me go or maybe for support. But whatever she needs, I’m gonna give it.
Making her beg is irrelevant because I can’t bear her waiting for anything, especially something I want her to receive only from me.
I drop my track pants and grab the condom packet I found with a note in my laptop case the day before my wedding day.
Life can be full of surprises, and it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. I’d hate for you to worry about protection with your pants down, Charlie. :)
Your overprepared brother, Ray.
That asshole.
“Charles, please. You won. I—I’m ready to—”
My hand splays over Daisy’s mouth, stopping her words. Her confused gaze meets mine, but since I have no explanation for my actions, I don’t provide any and instead run the head of my cock through her folds.
“It seems I don’t enjoy making you beg after all.” I slide in slowly. My teeth grit as I let her adjust to my size. “You don’t know how beautiful you look stuffed full of me.”
Her eyes open in an instant, and my muscles tighten. Those brown pools get to me, speaking volumes.
They move from my face to where we’re connected in the most basal way.
An emotion crosses her face that is so soft and pliant that I feel I’ll ruin it just by watching it. She’s never looked at me like that.
And it hits my chest right then like shrapnel.
From this day on, sex for me means Daisy and the way she looks right now. There’s nothing else. There’s nothing more.
I don’t know what she sees on my face, maybe my dumbstruck emotion, but her eyes fall shut.
“You need to up your dirty talk game, Charles. This isn’t working for me.”
My chuckle is loud, and when her eyes open, she’s grinning like a fool.
“You can’t fool me right now, Daisy.” I pull out and thrust inside her with more force, eliciting a moan from her. “You.” Another deep thrust. “Are.” Another. “Dripping.” This one is accompanied by her loud moan. “All over me.”
“Ch-Charles.”
“I know, butterfly. If I can’t make you beg, I’m going to make you cry in pleasure, and that’s a fucking promise.” I pull out and flip her over, ready to prove my words.
I hold her ass, raising it up before sliding my cock inside her.
“Fuck, I didn’t know you’d be so deep this way.” She groans and my chest cracks at the remark.
I know I’m not her first, a fact I hate but can’t change, so I don’t dwell on it. But I can’t stop myself from grinning, knowing I gave her a first experience.
“I know, butterfly, and you look so good stretched around your husband’s cock as it glides in and out.” I time the words with my actions.
Her hands relax on the sheet for a beat, and she turns to look over her shoulder.
There’s shock, surprise, and delight all wrapped in her face.
I know it because I feel the same.
I knew sex with Daisy would be amazing, but this is so fucking out of this world.
I feel my release right there, ready to consume me, but I don’t want this moment to end.
My fingertips dig into her ass, and my strokes turn punishing. There’s nothing gentle about the way I move inside her, but Daisy doesn’t just moan louder but also pushes back in encouragement.
The sound of skin slapping reverberates in my room, a foreign delight for these walls, and finally Daisy gives me what I’m after.
She cries my name over and over, and that’s enough for me to give in to the release and erupt inside her.
I lose balance but hold my weight on my elbows. Our ragged breathing fills the room as I place a kiss over her shoulder.
“I’m thankful I didn’t know you could do that, Charles. I might have begged you long ago.”
I’m unable to hold back my laughter and fall beside her. My arms drop over my eyes as I continue to laugh with abandon. Only with her could I be so carefree after such an intense experience.
I swipe the corner of my eye before turning to her and find her watching me with a smile on her face.
“You’ve ordered these chocolates especially for my dad?” Daisy asks, staring at the box in my hand as she slides into the limo after me.
“Yes. These are from a famous Swiss chocolatier. His family has been making chocolates for us and a few royal families across the globe. Upon my request, he prepared low-sugar, low-calorie almond chocolates for Jason.”
Daisy’s gaze drifts from me to the box. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish almost comically before she asks, “How do you know almond chocolates are my dad’s favorites?”
“Because he told me.”
“When?”
“In one of our texts.”
She swallows hard. “You really talk to my dad?”
“Why are you surprised? Did you think he wouldn’t want to get to know your new husband better?”
She’s still hesitant but then slowly nods. “I guess he would.”
I cup her face. Now that I know how she feels and reacts to my touch, I can’t stop touching her. As expected, her eyes turn wide and her lips quiver.
“Why is it so surprising that I care about your dad? I can be a caring person.” My thumb brushes against her soft cheek. Light shines in her eyes in a way that has always captivated me.
“Aren’t you the one who told the crying receptionist to suck it up and return to work in less than two minutes or else she could find a new place to work?” She snaps her fingers, mimicking my action from the past.
I fall back against my seat, unable to hold my laughter. “You know that’s not the same. She was crying over her favorite café moving less than a mile away.”
She shrugs, her eyes still focused on my face. “It’s a shame you don’t laugh like this more often. It’s beautiful.”
“Maybe going forward, I will, now that I have you around me twenty-four seven.” And also because you care enough to notice my laughs.
“I’m not your babysitter or your personal comedian.” Daisy folds her arms over her chest, looking away from me. But in the tinted windows, our gazes connect, and I’m not the only one smiling.
Steve parks outside my father-in-law’s home. Daisy is dressed casually today. Blue jeans. Black sweater. Canvas shoes. There’s a pearl-and-rhinestone clip on her hair and minimal makeup on her face. Without trying, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.
I place my hand forward, and the diamond of her engagement ring digs into my palm.
I love how it feels. I love what it says.
She’s mine.
We walk past the small iron gate and reach the porch. Daisy’s dad is sitting on a wingback chair with his head buried in his phone, and he looks up.
“Doodles? Charles? What a surprise!”
He looks much happier and healthier since I last saw him in his home, with numerous reporters as our audience.
“Dad, why are you so dressed up?” Daisy asks hesitantly. “Did you go out?”
“No, no. Kai just took some pictures for my social media,” Jason replies, leading us inside. “I’m a social media influencer now, Doodles. Do you know I’ve made three hundred friends in just a matter of days?”
“And what do you talk about with these new friends?”
“Cooking. Lifestyle. Alzheimer’s. A lot of my online friends are patients like me who are in the early stages of the disease. We crack jokes about forgetting everything and doing stupid things like brushing our teeth multiple times a day, but also good things like forgetting our asshole ex-bosses.” Jason grins.
As much as I hate everything with the word social in it, I’m glad Daisy’s father has found something that’s helping him keep his spirits high.
“Wow!” Daisy looks at him and then at me with a mix of surprise and shock.
“Your mom used to say there’s a silver lining in every dark cloud, we just have to find it. I think I’ve finally found mine.” He pats her cheek affectionately.
Of course she grew up with ample love and affection in her life. That’s the reason she wants to marry for love and possibly also have kids.
Before my mood takes a turn into a dark alley, Jason slaps me on the back. “Enough about me. How’s the business world?”
Daisy gasps, and I turn to look at her while her father asks, “Something the matter, Doodles?”