Chapter 15
One Year Later…
“What in the holy Hell am I looking at right now??”
I’m standing in the kitchen of our house, arms folded over my chest, eyes stuck on a giant pile of gingerbread cookies on the counter.
But these aren’t regular gingerbread men…
Well… I guess a part of one…
“If you don’t know what that is, I worry about you,” Jesse says, peeking at me over his shoulder while he pulls out another tray from the oven. “You might be growing senile. ’Cause you had one in your mouth this morning.” He giggles at my scowl. “And I’m not talking about the cookie…”
I honestly want to smile, and laugh… But my stubbornness won’t allow me to. Instead, I purse my lips to keep it at bay, shooting him with my favorite scolding look I know he thrives on.
"You made gingerbread dicks,” I huff, unable to stuff down the grin for one more second. It hijacks my mouth as I pick up one of the oddly shaped cookies, examining it.
It’s honestly very impressive… The cookie and the dick.
“Yay, you got it,” Jesse teases.
“You better watch that mouth, sweet thing.” I peer at him, and he bites his lip. “Or I’ll be stuffing your throat with a much bigger cookie.”
He cackles out loud, and I’m beaming. I love making him laugh. He looks so good, smiling and laughing; sounds like a dream come true.
Mine.
I lift the cookie to my mouth, but he reaches over and slaps it out of my hand. “Don’t eat that! It’s not ready. I haven’t even frosted them yet.”
I pout at him while he chuckles, stepping in closer and running his hands up my chest.
“But I’m hungry,” I growl, letting my hands roam his lower back, gliding down to his ass and giving it a nice squeeze. “For something sweet.”
“What else is new?” He grins, brushing his lips over mine.
He drops a lush kiss on my mouth, and I can’t help the soft groan that rumbles in the back of my throat. He’s just so alluring. Just being near him turns me ravenous…
And it has every day for the last year. Since the Christmas that changed our entire lives.
Jesse and I have been living in St. Barth for the last nine months or so. After our vacation last New Year’s, when we decided we wanted to move permanently away from Maine, and out of the States in general, we’ve been living this endless dream in a tropical paradise.
We had to leave when our trip ended, but only for long enough for me to sell my business, and our house.
All in all, it took about ten weeks. We packed up our lives, said goodbye to the few people we care about back home, and moved to St. Barth for good.
We found our little house, a cozy haven right on the ocean, and started our lives together…
As a former father and his adoptive son, turned lovers.
Of course, no one knows any of that. As far as the people of our quaint beach town are concerned, Jesse and I are just partners.
James McCallister and his nineteen-year-old boyfriend, Jesse Sorensen. Yes, Jesse has always shared a last name with his real parents.
I was adamant about that when I adopted him. I didn’t want to give him my last name, because I wanted to keep the memory of his parents alive, in him.
But maybe he’ll become a McCallister in the future… If he says yes.
These thoughts send a thrilling tickle through my stomach, and it causes me to haul him into me even closer, until our bodies are pressed together so tightly, I can barely tell where I end and he begins.
Swallowing up his little gasps, I suck on his pillowed lips, tugging them with my teeth in between feathering his tongue with mine.
God, I fucking love this kid. So much more than I ever thought was possible.
As not only my family, the most important person in my world, and the man I would lay down my life for…
But also as my lover; my partner. My treasure, my escape, my sanctuary. The man who makes my heart race, and settles me at the same time.
He’s literally everything to me. My sweetest gift.
“Mmff…” he mumbles into my mouth from the ferocity of my sensual kisses, and I chuckle. “You’re… distracting me.”
“What else is new?” I grin on his lips.
We pull apart, and he lifts his fingers to brush the hair away from where it wants to flop over my forehead.
Clearing my throat, I stow the urges to lift him up onto the counter and tear off that dumb apron he still always wears—the one I gave him for Christmas last year—along with his fitted Rick and Morty boxer briefs, and make him come, and come and come…
To show him who he belongs to. And how I take care of what’s mine.
“You know… Christmas Eve is tomorrow…” I murmur, slipping my fingers into the waistband of his boxers.
“Oh… really??” He gasps sarcastically, and I pinch his butt. He squeals into a laugh.
“I’m just saying… That’s, like, our anniversary.” I smirk, trailing a fingertip toward the crack of his ass. He purrs. “We should celebrate.”
“Oh, trust me,” he hums, tracing the lines of my bare chest, “I have a very special gift for you this Christmas, Daddy.”
A growl rumbles from me into him, my dick firming up nice, as I press it into his. “I love the sound of that, sweet boy.”
The excitement on his face lights him up, and he inches in, kissing my neck and throat, I think so that he can distract his mouth from accidentally blurting out the surprise he’s holding.
Jesse loves Christmas. It’s definitely his favorite holiday.
I mean, he loves all holidays. He’ll find any excuse to decorate and cook elaborate meals, baking up even more complex desserts.
Every holiday is celebrated in our house, but Christmas is a special one.
Even more so now, because it is our anniversary.
The anniversary of when we crossed a line separating the two very different sides of our family. Father and son, to partners… Sexual, and otherwise.
It’s a line I never could have anticipated crossing with him before. But now, I can’t even imagine not having tumbled over it.
Who knew him accidentally sucking my dick in his sleep would be the best thing that ever happened to either of us?
“Why are you making so many of these gingerbread dongs, baby?” I ask, while palming his taut, plump ass.
“I was going to bring some to Blake and Kenneth,” he tells me, still running his lips over the mound of my throat while it dips with my gulp. “You know, that couple we met the other day at the beach?”
My muscles are instantly tight. Yes, I remember the couple we met. I also happen to remember the way they were checking him out, subtly flirting with my partner, who’s too sweet to even notice such things.
Jesse was just chatting with them, the way he does.
Sort of innocently, answering their questions and being polite, while I was standing there, glaring behind my sunglasses.
To be fair, it’s not like they were actually hitting on Jesse in front of me…
In fact, it seemed like they were sort of trying to flirt with both of us.
Maybe part of their holiday vacation in St. Barth is finding another couple to fool around with…
And Jesse and I became their prime target.
Jesse didn’t pick up on it, apparently. He just thought they were being nice. And now he’s baking them cookies… Because he’s literally too sweet for real life.
I must be tenser than I thought, because Jesse pulls back and peers up at me.
“Is that really necessary?” I grumble to him.
His forehead lines. “Why not?? It’s a nice thing to do.”
“Do you have to be nice to strangers?”
His lips curl at the corner. “No need to be so Grinchy, James.” I narrow my gaze at him, and he chuckles. “It’s Christmas. And I love baking. I want to be able to share these awesome sweets with people who will appreciate them.”
I nod as he wiggles out of my arms, but not without first pressing a soft kiss on my chest. He goes back to scooping the cookies off the baking sheet, arranging them with the others as he prepares to decorate them.
Watching him move effortlessly around the kitchen, I have this urge inside… And not the one I usually get. To cover him in icing and eat him alive.
This one is more like a fervent need to fulfill him. To give him everything he could ever desire; whatever he needs to be happy.
Since we moved here, we’ve sort of just been living vacation life, like we’re retired or something.
With the money I got for selling the business, we’re comfortable.
I know I’ll need to start bringing in some money at some point, but I won’t need much to finance our lives down here.
More than anything, finding a job would just be something to keep me busy.
But Jesse is so young. He can’t possibly just spend his time catering to me, and riding my dick until my balls are drained empty, no matter how much he loves it. He needs a project. A purpose.
Back in Maine, his plan was to take some culinary classes, and maybe start working at a restaurant. He could do that here. But is that still what he wants?
Jesse deserves the world. I don’t want to stifle him and his potential success. I want to be the one to give him the world, and all the opportunities he would have had if we hadn’t moved here.
Hopefully, my Christmas surprise will make that happen…
“Can I help?” I ask him, inching over, resting my chin on his shoulder and watching, captivated, while he works.
“Wanna decorate some dicks?” He grins up at me.
“Always,” I hum, and he laughs.
Spinning, he hands me a bag of icing. Then he takes another one, showing me how to use it to decorate the cookies, making them look all fancy.
I try to do one myself, muttering, “Like this?”
He pauses, his eyes flitting between the cookie and me. “That’s the ugliest dick I’ve ever seen.” He chuckles while I scowl.
“Rude.” I smirk, and he elbows me. Lifting the bag, I move it up to his lips, squeezing out a dollop of white icing. He’s shaking with laughter while I lean in, sucking the sweetness off his mouth. “That better?”
“Mmm… so much better,” he rasps.