I haven’t felt this panicked since I fled Mick. It feels like something is about to go wrong, and I’m the only one who notices.
I don’t see Daisy again until we pull into traffic. She’s standing beside a tree at the edge of the road, staring straight at me.
Chapter 44
Dominic
Christmas hasn’t been something I’ve celebrated since I was a kid. My mum used to make a big deal out of it, but all that magic she brought into mine and Violet’s world died right alongside her.
Over the years, I started to resent the day. Not because of what it represented, but because it reminded me of everything I’d lost.
There was no tree at the orphanage. No decorations. No presents waiting to be unwrapped on Christmas morning.
The only upside was Christmas dinner, with all the trimmings. The meal didn’t come close to the spread my mum used to make, but it was a hell of a lot better than the crap they fed us the rest of the year.
I feel like an arsehole for denying Lil’ Peach that experience up until now, especially after seeing how excited she’s been. Emily’s introduced her to it all, touching on the meaning behind the day as well as the fun, magical parts.
Emily and I left Peach with Lucia last week and went shopping, buying everything we saw that we thought she’dlike. It was complete overkill, but I guess I had three years’ worth of presents to make up for.
The fat fuck that’s now taken residence on my niece’s bed even got a few gifts. He spends his days walking the streets—as he continues eating his way towards an early death—and his nights curled up on the end of Peach’s bed, much to my disdain.
I even managed to sneak out to get Emily something special.
I have no fucking clue what her reaction to my gift is going to be, but I guess I’ll find out in a matter of hours.
It’s early Christmas morning, and everyone but me is still fast asleep. I’m currently in bed with my girl wrapped in my arms, pondering how much my life has changed this year.
All for the better, but I can’t help thinking about my sister, Violet, and wondering what kind of shit she’s got lined up for herself today. I’m sure there’ll be a few highs on her agenda—literal highs, compliments of her addiction—but the crash that comes with it is never far behind.
I still remember how excited she used to get on Christmas morning, waking me up what felt like every five minutes to ask if it was time to open our presents yet.
As much as she loved the idea of Santa Claus, the thought of some fat bastard in a red suit climbing down our chimney scared the shit out of her. Every Christmas Eve, without fail, she’d sneak into my bed.
I loved that I was the one she always gravitated towards for protection; I wish it were still the case.
This year is a stark contrast to the non-existent celebrations in the past. We’ve got a full day ahead. Once the presents are opened, Lil’ Peach has requested chocolate chip pancakes, plus bacon and eggs for breakfast. After that, we’re heading to the De Luca’s for lunch.
I lift my head off the pillow and place my lips onEmily’s bare shoulder. I need a distraction. No good can come out of falling down the rabbit hole that is my fucked up past.
“Morning,mia tortina,” I whisper against her skin.
I didn’t take her last night when we got home because I could see how tired she was. Instead, I ran her a bath and made myself stay away so I wasn’t tempted to climb in with her.
When it was time to go to bed, I slipped in behind her, wrapped her in my arms, and ignored the tent in my boxers. Her breathing evened out within minutes, so I knew I’d done the right thing.
She’s had a full night’s sleep now, so I plan on making up for it before we get up, because walking around for the entire day, pining for her pussy is going to make me a miserable prick. And the last thing I want to do is ruin Emily or Peach’s day with my foul mood.
When Emily responds to my greeting with what could best be described as something crossed between a hum and a groan, my lips tug up at the corners.
Sleepy Emily is no fun, but I know exactly what will get her going. This woman has a greedy pussy, and is powerless to my touch.
My hand glides over her hip and under the elastic of her underwear. The moment the tip of my finger circles her clit, she lets out a breathy moan and rolls onto her back, opening her legs for me.
“Merry Christmas, Em,” I say as my tongue traces a path from her collarbone up along her neck. The words feel foreign because I can’t even remember the last time I said them.
“Merry Christmas, Dom,” she replies, placing her hand on the side of my face and guiding my mouth to hers.
Our lips mesh as my pressure on her clit intensifies. I swallow her moan as I deepen the kiss.
