33. Chapter 33 - Emiliano
I t’s been a few days since I bought the high-rise, and I have never competed for something like that in my life. The only reason I wanted to rush it was because I didn’t want the realtor to let Sokolov know about my counter bid. Didn’t want her to give him the chance to outbid me. The deal is done, yet I can’t help but wonder what comes next. I need extra security here, just in case the Russians want to act stupid and get brave.
Aside from the bidding war, Cole and I are both very happy with our decision to buy the penthouse. It’s perfect for us, and he was right, we need to live somewhere not tainted by memories of my son. I don’t want to see the guest room and think about Matteo fucking Cole in there. I realize how fucked up it sounds that I’m the one fucking Cole now, but when Matteo said I got his sloppy seconds, I lost my goddamn mind. Cole is mine now, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone talk badly about him, even if it’s my own son.
Speaking of Matteo, I let him know that Cole and I were moving out of the penthouse and that he was welcome to keep it. He didn’t want to, though, and I can’t blame him for that. I wouldn’t keep it either if I were him. I still offered it, it’s the least I can fucking do. I’m still unaware of where he’s living, seeing as he hasn’t bought anything or rented under his name. I’m assuming he’s in a hotel under someone else’s name or he’s living with a friend. Hopefully not couch surfing.
I get he doesn’t want to live in one of the condos below my penthouse because he wants his pride to stay intact, but I also hope he’s not homeless. That would just break me. He took all of his belongings with him, though, down to the last trinket on his dresser. So really, where would he put his things if he didn’t have a place? I know I should stop worrying about it, but I can’t help it. He’s my son. I’ll always see him as my baby no matter how grown he is. So why can’t I do right by him? Why do I have to want Cole so fucking bad?
All I know is that Cole and I are inevitable. I don’t just want him; I need him. He’s the blood in my veins. The oxygen in my lungs. I feel like I’ll die if I let him go. I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s mine forever. I won’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. Over my dead fucking body. That man is mine . Which is why when he told me he wanted to start fresh, I couldn’t deny him.
Today is move-in day. My penthouse is packed in a mountain of boxes, and we decided to get all new furniture, which will be delivered today, along with new appliances. Cole sold my furniture on Facebook Marketplace, and I’ve never felt older. Not that we needed the money, but he said throwing them away was a waste. I can’t even argue with that.
Now here we are, moving boxes into our new place as Cole signs for our bedroom set delivery. The bed is upholstered because he said he wanted to sit up and read—like a little old man. Who even reads in bed at twenty-one years old? Apparently he does. And according to him, he’s reading gay romance books. Said he’s currently reading a monster romance where one of the main characters has two dicks. I laughed so hard my belly hurt.
I’m looking forward to making new memories with him here, and as Cole pulls the Christmas tree and ornaments out of boxes, I realize I’ve never done this with anyone before. It feels meaningful, intimate. Domestic, even. I’ve never had a partner before. For the past twenty years, nothing mattered but my son. This feels different. This matters.
Boxes are stacked in the dining room since we don’t have a table yet, but the rug for the living room is in place now, so we can at least sit there since we also have no couch. Everything but our bed is supposed to be delivered tomorrow. Breakfast in bed doesn’t sound half bad, though.
Cole comes up to me and gives me a sweet kiss, just a soft press of his lips against mine. I close my eyes and savor the moment, breathing in his coconut scent. I’ll never tire of this. Never get over it. He hands me an ornament and smiles at me, his eyes twinkling, and I follow him over to the tree. He’s already fluffed it and plugged in the lights, and I return his smile.
“I got us something,” he tells me, pulling something out of his pocket. It’s a wooden ornament, and when I flip it over, there’s a picture of us with the words “Our First Christmas” engraved into the wood. I swallow the lump in my throat and look into his eyes. He seems unsure of himself in this moment. “Like it?”
“Love it,” I reply without hesitation. “Love you .”
A smile tips up his lips, and he gives me another kiss, there and gone quickly. “I know it’s cheesy—” he begins.
“—romantic,” I interrupt.
“But you better get used to it.” He grins. “It’s just the way I am.”
“I can be romantic too,” I say softly, brushing his hair away from his face.
“Prove it.” He grins.
“I will.” I wink. Sooner than he thinks.
I know we’ve only been together for about two months, but I don’t want to keep waiting.
We put the ornaments up together, stopping occasionally to kiss, and it’s more fun than I thought it would be. Mostly because of the look of concentration on his face when he’s trying to figure out where to put the next ornament. We put ours up front and center, and I just know my brothers are going to give me so much shit over this. But I don’t care. This is special to me. Cole is.
After we finish, Cole goes to the kitchen and makes us two mugs of hot chocolate from scratch. He’s going all out with Christmas music at low volume in the background, and he’s setting the mood more than he knows. I busy myself with lighting some candles, and when he hands me the mug of hot chocolate, I breathe in deeply to stave off my nerves. We take our time drinking it, and I can’t lie, it tastes amazing. I’ve never been one for Christmas cheer, but I’m a changed man, it seems.
We finish our drinks and I get a bottle of champagne and two flutes and take them over to the rug, setting them down. I’m just about to sit too when Cole shakes his head and stands up, holding something behind his back. I raise an eyebrow, and he looks down at the champagne.
“Special occasion?” he asks softly, and I nod with a smile. “Come here, baby.”
I close the distance between us, and he shows me what’s behind him—mistletoe. It has to be the funniest and cutest thing he’s ever done. I smirk, and he shakes his head.
“Better not laugh at me.” He grins, putting the mistletoe above our heads.
“Never,” I lie.
Instead of laughing, I lean in and kiss him, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. The kiss turns heated, and soon enough I’m thrusting my tongue into his parted mouth. He meets me in the middle, stroking his with mine. But for the first time, maybe ever, he’s submissive. We’re not battling for dominance. He’s letting me have this one. I’m not sure how that makes me feel.
Cole lets the mistletoe fall to the rug, then cups my face with both hands and continues to kiss me. My cock hardens, and I grab onto his hips, but don’t act on it. We pull away to catch our breath, and when I drop down to one knee, Cole looks at me in confusion.
“Cole.” I breathe, pulling out the ring from my back pocket. “I’ve always known you were put in my path for a reason, but I never could’ve imagined why. You’re my reason. The reason I wake up in the mornings and get out of bed. The reason I keep going. You’ve shown me what it’s like to love someone and be loved right back. I never knew it could be like this—effortless, and yet not. All I know is that I’m never letting you go. You’re my oxygen, Cole, and without you, I’ll suffocate. I’m never giving you up, never .”
Cole’s eyes fill with tears, and he’s looking between me and the ring with parted lips.
“Will you marry me?” I ask him. “Will you be my husband and spend forever by my side?”
Cole drops to his knees in front of me. He looks at me with his wide blue eyes, and my stomach flutters. “Yes,” he whispers. “It’s us forever, Em.”
I grin, slipping the ring onto his finger and slamming my lips to his once more. It’s urgent, needy, and everything I knew it would be. I’m so glad I made this decision. So glad I took a chance on us.
Cole pushes me onto my back, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down my legs along with my boxer briefs, then shucks off his clothes. He straddles me and grabs our bare cocks, giving them one firm stroke, and I groan.
And that’s how we spend the rest of the night.
Making each other come over and over again.