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* * *
Bradford wakesme early on my birthday. He takes his time with my body, giving me two orgasms with his mouth and fingers before I fuck him reverse cowgirl style. He then lets me lie in bed reading while he makes me breakfast and brings it to me. After that, he makes me sit on his face while he blows my mind with one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.
“This is the best birthday of my life,” I declare when I meet him in the bedroom after showering and dressing.
“We’ve barely gotten started,” he says, sitting on the bed and pulling me to sit on his lap. He hands me a gift and spends a long minute kissing me. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”
I undo the gold bow and carefully unwrap the gift. It feels like it might be a book and when I finish removing the paper, I find a gorgeous first-edition poetry book from a poet I’ve not heard of before.
“Have you read her?” Bradford asks as I flip through the pages.
“No.” I read some of a poem, sighing over the beauty of the words. “But I think I’m going to like her poetry.”
“I did a little research and people seem to think she’s as good as Charlotte Franklin.”
I look into his eyes and place my hand to his cheek, savoring this moment. I wish we could stay in it for the entire day. “You have a special way of loving a person.”
“Of loving you. Only you.”
“I’m so glad I found you on that rooftop all those years ago.”
“I almost kissed you that night.”
I slip my arm around him, threading my fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Really? Why didn’t you?”
“A siren cut into the moment, but mostly because we were both in relationships. It took everything, though, not to take what I wanted.”
“I know. I felt the same. I desperately wanted you to kiss me. And not just that night.”
He curves his fingers around my throat and teases my lips with his. “How often did you think about me?”
This conversation has my butterflies dancing wildly. Or maybe that’s his touch that’s causing that. Whatever it is, I want so much more of it. “All the time. Every day. And ten years later, I want you even more than I did back then.” I slide my hand down his neck and rest it on his shoulder. “I have a Christmas present for you that I was going to give you tonight, so that you didn’t have to think about it all day. But I want to give it to you now.”
His mouth smiles against mine right before he kisses me. “You got me something filthy.”
“I did.”
“You should not wait to give it to me.”
I move off his lap and retrieve the gift. His eyes don’t let mine go as he begins unwrapping it. They’re filled with heat and a promise that is doing delicious things to me.
When he finally tears his gaze away and looks at his present, he rasps, “Fuck.”
I watch as he takes hold of the leather wrist restraints and red satin blindfold. “Merry Christmas,” I whisper against his ear as I crawl back onto his lap. “I’ll do whatever you want with those tonight.”
“Tonight?” His strong arms come around me and he lifts me with him as he stands. Before I know what’s happening, he’s got me on my back on the bed, and is forcing my legs apart with his knee as he moves on top of me. “I’m not waiting all day for this.”
I don’t stop him. I mean, there’s a reason why I told him he could do whatever he wanted tonight, and it wasn’t because I wanted him to wait until then.
I give Bradford his Christmas present. A few times over. And I don’t even care that I make us very late for Christmas with his family.
* * *
“And thankyou very much for pointing out to everyone that I was missing an earring when we arrived,” I say to Callan about three hours into our Christmas lunch with the family. I’ve had a few drinks and have been chatting with him for the past twenty minutes, finding out more about him and his life.
He grins after drinking some of the hot buttered rum his mom just brought over for us. “You guys were nearly two hours late. I couldn’t let that pass.”
“Well, you didn’t have to mention the reason.”
