13. When Your Boyfriend only has one thing on his mind!
13
WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND ONLY HAS ONE THING ON HIS MIND!
Christmas lunch is a feast fit for royalty, and in this case, we actually have some at the table thanks to my new cousin Saffy and her parents, Sir and Dame Whatever-Their-Last-Name-Is. Refika and Aydin have truly outdone themselves, presenting a mouthwatering spread that could rival any five-star restaurant.
The centrepiece is, of course, the enormous roasted turkey, perfectly golden-brown and juicy, surrounded by a medley of colourful roasted vegetables. The aroma of sage and thyme fills the air, making my mouth water.
Next to the turkey sits a succulent honey-glazed ham which is a Christmas miracle in itself considering which city we are in right now, adorned with pineapple rings and cloves. The glaze glistens in the light, promising a perfect balance of sweetness and smokiness.
But the delights don’t end there. The table is laden with an array of side dishes that could please any palate. Fluffy mashed potatoes drizzled with savoury gravy, buttery green beans sautéed with almonds, and even Yorkshire pudding, all served in elegant porcelain dishes.
Refika's famous dolma also takes centre stage among the appetizers. Grape leaves stuffed with a fragrant mixture of rice, ground beef, and spices, tenderly simmered until they melt in your mouth. Beside it, a platter of vibrant mezes, including tangy ezme , creamy hummus, and smoky baba ghanoush, served with freshly baked pita bread.
This is the epitome of a true international Christmas feast, the kind that would make every expat in Istanbul green with envy as they go about their day—after all, Christmas Day here is just any other ordinary day.
I sit next to Deniz with my father on my other side, while my mum is seated beside Deniz’s mother, Refika. Like Deniz, Refika is a master of social grace and tact, and I can’t help but admire how she effortlessly engages my mum in conversation. She regales her with stories about life here in Istanbul, sharing memories of her younger days as well as asking questions about Sydney and my mother’s life back home.
I notice my mother slowly relaxing, her stern expression softening. Refika’s warm and genuine nature has a way of putting people at ease. She immediately welcomed me into her family, making me feel like a daughter, and now she’s extending that same warmth to my parents. I’m grateful for her efforts to make them feel welcome. I know she’s doing this to help Deniz and me out, but also because she wants her son to be happy, and that means impressing my parents.
“Deniz has always had a knack for business,” Refika says with pride. “He’s very determined and smart, always thinking ahead. You should see the plans he has for expanding his company. He’s got this incredible vision for sustainable tourism that’s really forward-thinking. He’s been working on a project to integrate eco-friendly practices into all his operations. It’s the kind of innovation that could really set his company apart.”
My eyebrows practically leap off my forehead. For someone with an accent thick enough to butter toast, she sure knows her way around business jargon like a seasoned CEO.
“That’s very impressive although I wonder how he can do this while floating around on a boat all day.”
Deniz jumps in with a smile. “I’ve structured my business to be flexible, allowing me to work effectively from different locations. In fact, the varied environments often spark my best ideas.”
“Yes, but this is not how I envisioned my daughter’s life going.”
I squeeze Deniz’s hand under the table. He’s working hard to win over my mother, not with charm alone, but with his genuine dedication and hard work. It’s moments like these that remind me why I fell in love with him.
“I’m just so happy that he’s found someone like Olive to share his life with. They make a wonderful team.”
Mic drop!
And just like that, Deniz’s mother wrapped it all up in a neat little bow. Deniz and I love each other, and that’s all that matters to her. That’s all that should matter to my parents too, if they’ve got any sense.
My mother knows that she’s beat. “It seems we have a lot to discuss, Olive.”
“We do, mum.”
Mum zeroes in on Valentina, and they switch back to Italian—no doubt to discuss just how thoroughly I’ve managed to disappoint her—giving Deniz a chance to catch his breath before the next tongue lashing. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “I don’t think your mother likes me very much, Russo.”
I chuckle softly. “She doesn’t like me very much either right now. I wouldn’t take it personally. But you got Dad onside, so you’re sorted.”
“It’s not often I can’t get a woman to like me.”
“I can promise you, Yilmaz, it took you quite some time to get this lady to like you!”
“You loved me from the moment you met me!”
Ah, yes, that fateful day at the airport.
I had just arrived in Istanbul, bags in tow, running away from Luca’s disastrous proposal. And why did I do that? Because I had been told by a psychic that I would face a fork in the road, and needed to walk down that new path for my dreams to come true. With my heart still raw and desperate for a change of scenery, I decided to take her words to heart.
And then I met Deniz—the arrogant stranger who somehow managed to trick me into kissing him on the plane. He had this infuriating confidence, a glint in his eye that suggested he knew something I didn’t.
But that kiss changed everything.
It was as if the world had shifted on its axis. The electric connection between us was undeniable, sparking a journey that led me from heartache to healing, and to my own happily ever after.
“I did not. You threw yourself at me. In fact, you were just lucky I didn’t turn around and get on the next flight back home!”
“You and I remember that meeting very differently,” he growls. “What I do remember is that you made me as hard as a fucking rock for that entire flight, Russo.”
“You have a filthy mouth, you know that?”
A mischievous gleam dances in Deniz’s eyes. “Wait until we’re alone. I’m going to do some things with my filthy mouth that you won’t believe.”
Deniz loves dirty talk. At first, I have to admit, it caught me off guard. I was more of a ‘lights off and keep it sweet’ kind of girl, so when he started whispering those filthy words in my ear, I didn’t know whether to laugh or run for cover. My cheeks would go from zero to tomato in seconds. But then, something shifted. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing he wanted in that moment, or maybe it was how my body started responding before my brain could catch up. Now, I've learned to keep the blush in check, to let the words sink in, and I'll tell you a secret—I get off on it just as much as he does. There's something incredibly freeing about it, like shedding layers I didn’t even know I had. His voice, low and rough, pulls me into this space where nothing else matters, and I find myself craving it, pushing back just as much as he pushes me. It's our little game, one where the stakes are high, and the rewards...well, they speak for themselves.
A familiar shiver races down my spine at his teasing words, and I can't help but lean in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “If we weren’t surrounded by family I would be on my knees with your cock in my mouth.”
Deniz stands up from the table and extends his hand towards me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “There’s no time like the present.”
“We can’t leave in the middle of lunch!”
“Of course we can. No one will even notice we’ve gone.”
I take his hand and we slip away from the table and make our way to the stairs behind us.
“Deniz umca ?” Deniz’s niece, Emine, is like an eagle. She never misses a thing. “Where are you going?”
Fanculo!