Chapter 26
Mmmm. That’s nice.
I nuzzle deeper under the fluffy, warm comforter.
“Wake up, beautiful.”
Hm?
I drift off again in a peaceful cloud of safety.
Spence’s knuckles glide along my cheek.
“Sleepyhead,” he teases, kissing my brow.
“It feels so good.”
“You feel so good.”
He settles in behind me, wrapping an arm over my waist. His touch is hot against mine. No pajamas last night. It was wonderful being skin to skin with him.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs kissing along my ear.
“Merry Christmas.” I turn in his arms, burying my nose in the dip at the base of his neck. He smells good, like he always does. But this morning he smells like something different. Engine oil? Not a bad smell.
“What have you been doing?” I ask with a little yawn.
“Worked out. Made our breakfast. Want to join me by the tree for French toast?”
“Well, that’s the kind of offer I can’t refuse. But are you going to wear those gray joggers?”
He chuckles, the warm sound sending tingles to lots and lots of places.
“If you want.”
“No shirt.”
“Good thing I don’t get cold easy,” he says huskily, nipping my ear.”
He hauls me out of bed, smacks my butt and gently pushes me toward the bathroom. “Hurry up, babe.”
Ah. I’m glowing when I walk into the oversized bathroom. He’s still there, waiting on me when I return from taking care of things and brushing my teeth, but he’s not in his workout shorts now.
He’s wearing those joggers. And there are definitely no briefs below.
“Well, hello.” I wave at his cock.
He laughs, dragging me into the crook of his elbow. “You need to put some clothes on right now, angel. Or your breakfast will be long forgotten.”
“What shall I wear?” I tease.
He walks me to the large hand-carved dresser where he quickly locates one of his T-shirts. It says Go Navy on the front and has been well loved.
“Is that all?”
“That and my marks on your body, sweetheart.”
I’m sure my face is the color of the red bows on the garland over the bed.
He helps me into the shirt, hand dipping under the hem and skimming over my inner thigh, making me gasp.
“You sore from taking me so deep?”
I’m breathing a little too fast, my mouth has gone dry. “In the best way. I can take more, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His lashes lower, his tongue tucking into the corner of his mouth. “Good, I want more,” he replies hotly.
Then he turns me toward the bed. Oh my god.
A strand of Christmas lights lays coiled on the duvet.
“We can have some fun with those later.”
That tone he used…
Oh boy. My hands tingle as my nipples turn to diamonds below the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
“Can we bring those out to the great room with us?”
The way his gaze smolders, makes me clamp my knees together. “Like I said, Liberty. You can have whatever you want.”
“Except climbing on the ladder?” I wink at him.
He growls at me. Literally growls before he backs me up and pins me to the footboard of the bed with a searing kiss.
Wow. Spence knows how to dominate me in a way that turns me to lava, all while making me feel safe.
I love it. Everything about it.
When he pulls back, he grabs the lights with one hand, my waist with his other, and picks me up.
I giggle the whole way to the great room, until he silences me with another burning kiss as he places me onto the gigantic leather sofa right in front of the tree.
There’s a fire snapping and popping in the gigantic hearth. The tree is glowing with festive lights. Baby It’s Cold Outside is playing.
On the table is a massive tray of food, complete with little heating trays of some kind keeping breakfast at the perfect temperature.
“I’m really impressed. As usual.”
He lowers himself onto the sofa beside me, man-sprawling in the best way, and I feast on him. Not the food.
I toe his thigh, feeling the muscles below his pants respond by bunching up.
“Santa was good to me.”
He moves the tray between us. “Oh, and you haven’t even gotten your present yet.”
“Guess I should eat so I have my strength.”
He grins wicked, then deposits a square package in front of me. The box is wrapped in silver paper with a bright red ribbon tied around it.
“Wait. What? Where did that come from?”
“You’ll just have to look inside.”
I swear my pulse stalls. The box is about four-by-four and has my full attention.
He’s watching me with the sweetest smile.
“I feel bad.” I look up at him. “I don’t have anything for you.”
Spence leans over, capturing me by wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me into a slow kiss. “Yes you do,” he whispers against my mouth.
I lose myself for a minute in the way his tongue finds the perfect rhythm, the exact pressure and depth to make my toes curl.
“Open it.”
I sit back, lifting the package. “Can I shake it.”
He chuckles as he picks up a strawberry from the mountain of them on top of the French toast. “Be my guest.”
Whatever’s inside isn’t heavy, but it thumps around a lot. “Interesting. It’s not soft. It’s not too heavy.”
“Just open it, Liberty.”
I scrunch my nose at him. “I’m enjoying toying with you.”
He tosses a blueberry at me.
“Oh, alright.” I tug the ribbon and admire the perfect corners made with the precisely folded wrapping paper. “Did they teach this when you learned how to make beds.”
He laughs, leaning back, pleasure in his eyes as he watches me.
When I pop the tape, I get a little bump in my pulse. He really went all out, making the presentation nice.
“Is this present from the fridge?”
He gives me a rare eye roll. Spencer Saint McCallister is not an eye roller. He’s all business. Most of the time.
“Here goes.” I lift the lid, my lips parting in a small gasp.
“Did you make this?”
“I did.”
I’m already tearing up as I lift the silver star. It’s an ornament. The edges have been rounded, the points perfectly symmetrical. Engraved on the front are the letters ‘L & S’ with 12/24/2025 engraved below them.
“How in the world?” I choke out.
He studies my expression, his eyes softening. “There’s a shop on the lowest level. I know how to make things out of metal.”
“You think?” I laugh tearfully, holding it to my chest. “This is the best present ever. It’s gorgeous.”
“Let’s put it on the tree.” He holds out a hand and I climb off the sofa, careful not to disturb the food as I let him lead me toward our tree masterpiece.
“Where do you think it should go?”
He looks mildly offended. “Front and center.”
He points to a spot that is indeed front and center, right at eye level…for me at least. It’s the perfect branch with the perfect opening and there will be lights making the shiny silver metal gleam.
I hang the ornament and he reaches over my shoulder, tracing our initials and the date. He’s right behind me. His chest to my back. His voice is husky and warm. “Love you, angel.”
“Love you too.”
I sound like I’m speaking through water because I’ve got so many tears in my throat.
He holds me for a few minutes by the big tree. Strong arms wrapped protectively around me. All of my past pain evaporates and is replaced by a sure and steady warmth.
I don’t know how or why this happened, but I’m not letting it go.
“Time to eat,” he murmurs, “I should have saved that ’til later, but I was excited to give it to you.”
His confession makes me fall even harder. “Who needs food when you have romance?”
We settle on both.
We’re eating the amazing food he put together when a stressful thought makes me pause with my fork hovering in the air.
“Are we hard-launching our relationship with an ornament?”
He chews and swallows as he shakes his head. “Nope. We’re hard launching our relationship when your brother and his wife get here in about five hours.”