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Snow started falling softly around me. I smiled, listening to the exclamations of happy people as they tried to catch the flakes, dancing around and laughing. The faint sound of Christmas music could be heard from somewhere in the distance, carried to my ears through the still night air. I walked away from the tree and left the square, ready to make my way home.
I’d reached the entrance to Charing Cross station, just down the road from Trafalgar Square, when I realised that I hadn’t taken a photo of the Christmas tree. How could I have forgotten? I always, always took one to send to my sister in Australia, and in return, she’d send me a photo of the beautiful tree in Launceston, the city she lived in.
I hurried back, as quickly as I could. The snow was falling more heavily now, settling on the ground and making everything sparkle under the streetlights and car headlights.
Slowing my steps, I smiled to myself. There wasn’t really any rush to get home. It felt magical, being out here in the snow, with the Christmas tree shining down on me.
Reaching the tree, my jaw dropped.
He was here.
He’d actually come.
Marcus was standing in front of the tree, a thick winter coat and scarf on, and his eyes closed. As I came to a stop in front of him, his eyes flew open, then widened in shock as he took me in.
“Are you really here?” he asked.
“I hope so.” I stepped closer, a smile spreading across my face. “What are you doing here?”
He blinked, the snow dusting his lashes. “You forgot your hat.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out my Santa hat, and placed it on my head, pulling it down to cover my ears.
We stood, staring at one another, the connection between us sparking to life, and then he tugged me into his arms and kissed me, a devastating kiss that left me completely breathless.
“Come home with me?” he suggested, when he finally drew away. “We can wake up together on Christmas morning, and maybe you can show me some of those Christmas movies you mentioned yesterday.”
My heart stuttered, then came to life with a roar. He wanted me. He was choosing to spend time with me. At Christmas.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Don’t plan on being able to walk tomorrow,” he murmured in my ear, and I laughed at the sudden change of subject.
My laughter died away as he nuzzled my neck, holding me tightly. “If you’re going to be in my bed, I’m damn well going to make the most of it.”
I shivered at his words.
“Take me home, Marcus.”
Christmas night, lying naked in his bed after a day of laying curled up on the sofa watching movies and getting to know each other, interspersed with heady kisses and what was most definitely the best sex of my life, I turned to him. “Did you make a wish on the tree?”
He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “No, but you managed to make a Christmas miracle happen. This is the first Christmas Day I haven’t worked in years.”
“I told you the magic of Christmas was real.”
“You did.” He husked out a laugh, and pulled me closer. “I know you made a wish. Tell me, did it come true?”
I straddled him, feeling him harden beneath me. “Oh, I think it did.” I rolled my hips and he groaned. “But I’m going to need one more round to make sure.”
“I agree.” He smirked up at me, then pulled me down, rolling us over, so he was on top of me, my legs wrapped around him. “Merry Christmas, Ashley.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said, placing my arms around his neck and meeting his lips with mine.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in white.
* * *
THE END
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