Chapter 16
It’s Christmas Eve. And I’m officially predictable as fuck.
Because not only am I super excited about it, but I’m also spending the entire day cooking.
I know. No one is surprised.
The thing is, though, this holiday officially means more to me than in it used to. Sure, it’s always been my favorite. Something about the decorations, the lights, the presents, and the sweet goodies…
Even without the snow we used to get back home, we’ve still managed to turn our home into our own little tropical wonderland.
But now, it’s more than just the most fun holiday. It’s also an anniversary.
One year ago today, my adoptive father and I did something we most certainly were not supposed to do. And it changed our lives forever, which is to be expected.
It changed our lives for the better.
I don’t care if other people would see it that way or not. Living down here in St. Barth has allowed us to really be ourselves. To be Jesse and James, partners in love.
I think that is definitely worth celebrating.
I decided to cook the big dinner tonight, so that tomorrow we can just eat leftovers, and spend the day relaxing. Cuddling up on the couch, or maybe out on the deck, watching the ocean.
And of course, fucking each other’s brains out. That’s a given.
Especially with the super sexy surprise gift I have for my man…
The plan is to give James his gift tonight, because I can’t possibly wait until tomorrow. I have actual presents for him tomorrow, but tonight… he’s gonna unwrap me.
While the ham and sides are roasting in oven number one, I stuff the tray of cupcakes into oven number two. Yes, our place has two ovens. It was pretty much a requirement, being I cook that much, certainly enough to put them both to good use.
Not that this little house had two ovens when we bought it, but James had the second one put in after we moved in.
He’s also done a bunch of renovations around here on his own, because he’s handy.
And I won’t lie, watching him shirtless, hammering and drilling stuff…
It pretty much guarantees me on my knees in front of him in the shower once he’s done.
The brown sugar and pineapple glazed ham is baking, fingerling potatoes, carrots and parsnips with it, and a honey balsamic reduction waiting for them as soon as they’re done.
I also made a tropical slaw, as a crisp, citrusy contrast. And for dessert, my famous Mexican hot chocolate cupcakes with horchata buttercream frosting.
I know what you’re thinking… All of this for just the two of you? Why make so much effort?
Well, it’s mainly because I just love to cook.
I’ve always done this. Ever since I was about sixteen and decided I loved cooking enough to think up my own recipes, I’ve been creating elaborate meals for James and me to enjoy as a family.
Not to mention that we both love to eat, and we’re sort of foodies, too.
It’s fun, and it makes me happy. Cooking is like my own form of therapy.
Although right now, while I’m twirling around the kitchen in nothing but boxers and an apron covering my May All Your Christmases Bea White t-shirt with Bea Arthur and Betty White’s faces on it, I can’t help but focus on James’s words from last night at dinner…
Before those two guys I thought were cool started hitting on us and he freaked out. The memory brings a little smirk to my lips.
Of course, being hit on was sort of flattering, but it’s like I told James last night… Nothing ever would have come of it. Not that I’d ever yuck someone else’s yum. Mad props to any couple who wants to experiment with other people in bed, safely and consensually.
But that’s just not us. The thought of being with anyone other than James makes me feel yucky inside.
That said, his jealousy and possessiveness are all too delicious, and my dick swells at the memory of him, growly and mad, kissing the word mine onto my lips for the world to see.
In a lot of ways, I’m sure between our codependency and his jealousy, we’re a few cards short of a full deck when it comes to a healthy relationship. But then there’s so much about us as a couple that isn’t normal. And I’m totally fine with that.
What we have works for us. As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters.
What I’m really dwelling on right now is what he said about me running my own restaurant.
I can’t say I haven’t thought about it… Originally, before everything happened last Christmas, my plan was to take a year off after high school and figure out what I wanted to do next.
As it seems, that’s exactly what’s happened.
Only the year consisted of less soul-searching and researching online courses, and more being bent over and humped silly by my adoptive father.
But in the midst of all the sex and cuddling, home décor, dinners by the ocean, sunbathing and kissing and being almost annoyingly happy down here in paradise, I’ve had time to ruminate on plans for my future. And I think working in some sort of restaurant would make me beyond happy.
What I want is the opportunity to design my own menu, create scrumptious food and serve it to anyone who will love it. To bring people joy with my cooking.
I love cooking for only James, but I want to share my passion with others who might also devour it with enthusiasm.
I just wonder if it’s even possible… And how I would go about making it happen.
“It smells so motherloving good in here,” the rumbly voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I peek up at the doorway where my big, sexy, muscley man is standing, in nothing but gray sweatpants—his usual attire while we’re at home—dark hair tousled about, smirking at me. “My mouth is watering.”
“Same.” I shoot him a wicked grin and he chuckles.
Striding into the room, he makes a beeline for me, and my stomach flips and flops all crazy-like. It still happens, even a year later. He makes my knees shake, and I’m beginning to think it’ll always be like this.
When he reaches me, he smooshes himself up to my back, holding me against the counter while his lips tease the sensitive flesh of my neck. I’m immediately coated in chills.
“Mmm… But this smell right here is a million times more delicious than anything happening inside that oven,” he growls, nipping me just hard enough that I flinch and purr.
“You say that now, but just wait until you’ve got a mouthful of pork.”
He cackles out loud and my smile could probably be seen all the way back in Maine.
“I can’t wait for our new tradition.” He cups my ass in his hands.
My face lights up and I glance at him over my shoulder. “You mean I get more brandy-spiked eggnog?!”
He grins. “Well, sure. But I was more talking about a blowie on the couch while we watch the movies.”
I chuckle and bite my lip. “I think you should blow me this time.” He rumbles into me while I wiggle my hips. “It’s only fair.”
“You make a good point, sweet stuff.” He nips my earlobe.
“Are you hungry?” I ask him, distracting myself from bending for him by busying my hands with combining all the ingredients for the frosting into a bowl.
“Feed me, Seymour.” James does the Audrey II voice, and I laugh out loud.
“There are appetizers over there.” I nod to the table across the room. “Stuffed mushrooms, a meat and cheese board… Oh, and many more gingerbread dongs. For your pleasure.”
He chuckles again, giving my ass a final squeeze before untangling himself from me and practically running over to the food. I can’t help but laugh, watching him eat cookies, soppressata, and gruyere at the same time.
The rest of the afternoon goes by with much of the same.
James and me teasing each other, playing around, and chatting while I finish dinner and dessert.
After that, we sit down to eat together, Christmas music playing in a low croon as we enjoy my scrumptious creations, making googly eyes at each other from across the table.
Once we’re sufficiently stuffed, we adjourn to the living room for A Christmas Story and brandy-spiked eggnog. The tradition warms my chest as much as the booze in my drink. But more than that, I’m fully obsessed with how much better it feels being with him this way.
I’m no longer a kid with a crush, desperately trying to stuff down my illicit feelings for the man I can’t have.
Now, when I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes, he’s already watching me.
Our fingers tangled, my legs draped over his lap with his other hand on my knee.
He presses his lips on my hair and I kiss his collarbone.
We stay barely dressed, touching one another subtly, tempting and tantalizing little trails of fingers and lips, my foot running up and down his calf until we’re both buzzing on it.
The high of being together.
Our new Christmas Eve tradition, as a couple. In love.
I want to give him his gift right this second. But I have to be patient. It’ll be so much better if I do it right…
He’s gonna be so surprised.
“Baby…” He gives me one of his scolding tones that’s actually more aroused than anything. I peer up at him. “You’re wiggling all around.” He grins. “Excited for something?”
“Who, me?” I bite my lip to contain the smile of an insane person. “I’m just happy to be having a perfect Christmas Eve with my man, that’s all.”
He narrows his gaze at me, but says nothing more, simply taking my chin in his fingers and kissing me, slow and warm and so goddamn erotic, I’m melting all over the place.
We put on another movie, watching while we snuggle up, the sun having long since dipped into the ocean outside our windows. I can’t say I’m not desperate to rip off my boxers and climb onto his lap right now, but I keep reminding myself the reward will be so much better if I wait.
So the teasing touches stay that way, and eventually, we both doze off.