Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
OLLIE
"Idon’t think I’m doing it right,” I mumble, and even I can hear the pout in my voice.
I hear Ethan’s chuckle from the kitchen while I’m currently being defeated by a bundle of Christmas lights that apparently like being a tangled mess far too much.
Ethan emerges from the kitchen, shooting a glare at my clothes like he’s been doing since we got out of bed a few hours ago.
“Will you stop doing that?” I swat lightly at his arm when he gets close enough for me to do it and I yelp when he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest.
“Sorry, but no,” he rumbles, taking the lights from my hand and leaving them on the coffee table.
“Why do you hate my clothes so much?” I know why he does. I just like to hear him say it.
“Because you should be wearing mine.”
Damn, the way he looks at me makes me weak.
“I can’t focus when I’m wearing yours.” I only want to bask in his scent.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“And you can’t focus either.”
“I’m very much okay with that,” he grins and it’s impossible not to grin back at him.
“You’re an evil, evil man.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t like that,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes that makes my stomach flutter. “Now, you want some help with those lights?”
Of course he wants to help now that he’s made sure that the last thing on my mind is the tangled Christmas lights.
To say that I’ve been spacing out all through breakfast and decoration unboxing would not be an exaggeration.
His earlier words are still echoing in my head, sending my heartbeat haywire.
My mate. My love. Mine.
He called me his mate. He wants to mark me as his, his mate, his…
Love.
Oh God, I can feel my face flaming and if I can feel it, it means that I’m probably beet red, which also means that Ethan…
Yep. He’s noticed it alright, judging by the soft, piercing look he’s giving me.
“What are you thinking about that’s got you so red, sweetheart?”
I could say something else to deflect, but I don’t want to.
“You,” I tell him simply and his eyes bore into mine with single-minded focus.
Like he can see nothing but me. What a heady feeling.
“What we did and said earlier.” His arm tightens around me, making my breath hitch.
“What we’re going to do today,” I nod with a playful smile towards the pile of decorations waiting.
His hand squeezes my hip while he chuckles darkly.
“And you call me evil.”
I laugh, admittedly a bit breathlessly, and he releases me, picking up the lights that refused to cooperate.
“Is this what was giving you trouble?”
I nod. “For someone whose fingers are used to handling things that tangle, you’d think I’d be better at this.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know exactly what your fingers can do,” he says non-chalantly and my eyes snap to his, only to catch the deadly smirk on his face. “And you know it, too.”
Good God, this man is dangerous. He’s as soft and gentle as he is rough and filthy.
And he’s mine.
Keeping our gazes intertwined, I take a step towards him and watch as his pupils dilate when I rub two fingers on his bottom lip.
The same two slick-covered fingers he licked off earlier.
“I do,” I say quietly.
His jaw locks, his nostrils flaring, and he grabs my wrist, pressing kiss after kiss on my fingers.
“If I didn’t know how much you want to decorate this tree, I would throw you over my shoulder and we would be halfway to the bedroom right now.”
His voice is so deep it sends a shiver through me. Because I know he means it.
“But you do know how much I want to decorate this tree.”
“I do. And I want to help you make it exactly the way you’ve always imagined it,” he smiles, brushing one final kiss inside my palm, before he lets it go.
“So we’ll take care of the lights, and you’ll choose whatever you like from these boxes to use.
But first,” he trails off, moving over to the laptop he has left open on the coffee table.
All it takes is a couple of clicks for soft Christmas music to fill the room.
My throat tightens so much it hurts and I have to blink a few times to fight the vicious sting that burns my eyes.
I never knew being happy could hurt this much.
I never knew it could make me feel so full or so terrified to lose this in the blink of an eye.
“Hey,” Ethan reaches me immediately, tilting my jaw up with his knuckles to meet my eyes. “What’s wrong, Ollie?”
But looking into that warm, brown gaze I realize that I never knew it could also give me so much hope.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I’m just happy.”
Ethan merely looks at me intently for a second, before leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“Good,” he rasps out.
And it is.
***
“Just out of curiosity, where exactly were you keeping all these boxes?”
We’ve been tinkering with the decorations for the last couple of hours and I absolutely love how the Christmas tree has turned out.
It’s so beautiful with its hundreds of tiny, white bulbs that look like stars, its branches heavy with ornaments that resemble actual pine cones but with a sprinkle of glitter on, and sparkling snowflakes catching my eye everywhere I look.
Ethan lit up the fireplace just an hour ago, and its flames have been dancing and bouncing off those glassy snowflakes ever since.
It’s so pretty.
My first Christmas tree.
Ethan chuckles at my question, pulling me closer to him, careful not to spill the hot chocolate he made and that we’re both holding.
I feel so warm.
“In the storage shed at the back of the cabin where everything that doesn’t fit in the cabin goes. Sometimes my parents visit during Christmas so I like to make things festive if that’s the case. But I also like it even when it’s just me,” he says with a soft smile. “The lights keep me company.”
I can’t help taking in everything about this man that is so full of contradictions but that somehow all fit together.
He’s steady, calm, and gentle, making me feel like violent waves could crash on his shores and he would remain unmovable. A constant.
But there’s also fire and a quiet ruthlessness brewing inside him, an inferno just waiting to be unleashed if someone hurts the people he cares about.
Just like he did for me yesterday.
“Can I ask you something?” I mutter, snuggling even more against him, letting his warmth seep into me.
“Of course, baby.”
God, I’m never getting used to him calling me that.
“Who’s Devon? Those guys mentioned him last night?”
I feel Ethan stiffen slightly, his throat bobbing with a swallow.
“What’s wrong?” I frown in confusion.
He sighs deeply before he aims an apologetic look at me that I don’t understand.
“Well, here’s the thing. Devon is my ex-boss from the time I worked in security, but he’s also a friend.
So,” he pauses, as if bracing for what he has to tell me, “when your heat ended and I took you home, I was worried that someone could come to hurt you again and I asked Devon to look out for you, in case something happened.”
His words surprise me but not for the reason he thinks, judging by the panicked look on his face.
“I know I should have asked you first but I didn’t want you to worry.
Not when you were still coming down from your heat.
And I promise you I didn’t invade your privacy in any way.
I just…” he stops, his dark eyes sweeping over every inch of my face.
“I just wanted you to be safe. Even if I couldn’t be the one to do it. ”
The blood whooshes in my ears and for a moment I don’t hear the sleet that’s softly hitting the large living room window. Or the wood crackling in the fireplace. Or even the lovely music we’ve been listening to all morning.
No, all I hear is my heart against his, beating in tandem.
Fast. So fast.
He watched over me even when he wasn’t with me, even when I couldn’t see him. He made sure I wouldn’t be hurt.
I remember how scared I was those first few days back to my place, always looking over my shoulder whenever I got to work. But eventually, I stopped when I felt no signs of threats.
And now I know why.
Taking the half-full mug from his hand, I place it along with mine on the coffee table.
Ethan’s eyes widen, a sharp inhale passing through his lips when I straddle his lap, his hands immediately finding my waist.
Never dropping my gaze, I press a kiss on his still-parted lips. It’s supposed to be brief but it’s not. His tongue slips inside my mouth, owning every inch of it. He groans from deep within his chest, like he can’t help but want more and more, and I can’t get enough of it.
It tastes of chocolate, and him.
It feels like free-fall knowing he will catch me.
“I love you, Ethan.”
The words are a wet whisper against his mouth, words I’ve never spoken to anyone but him.
Words I’ve never felt before in my life.
Ethan leans back to peer into my eyes, his own brimming with emotion that I’m sure mirrors my own.
There is an imperceptible tremble when his hands come up to brush my face, the touch so light, it’s like he’s holding the most precious of possessions.
“I can’t breathe from loving you, Ollie,” he says in a rough voice and I ache, ache, ache for him.
I wish I could grab this moment with both hands and keep it safe within my palms, treasure it forever so I never forget what being loved feels like.
“You love me?” I whisper, needing to hear it one more time.
His eyes sparkle with adoration and he smiles at my question.
“How about I show you how much?” he says, lying down on his side gently and taking me with him until we’re a mess of limbs on the couch.
“Yes, please,” I tell him, biting my lip to stop myself from smiling like a lunatic.
And that’s exactly what he does; brushing kisses anywhere he can reach, grinning when I start giggling because he’s making me ticklish, whispering his love in my ear over and over again.
We never even notice when the sleet stops and the snow starts falling.