Page 21 of Delayed in Venice


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I’d agonised over the design for months and had finally decided that simplicity would be best. The golden band is fashioned to look like the linked chain encrusted with small diamonds. It looks like the collar necklace I’d gotten David for our one-year anniversary.

Now here we were, almost two years later, and about to—hopefully—plan our wedding.

I hold my breath as I carefully place the golden box inside one half of the red globe before adding the top and hanging the bauble on their Christmas tree.

Gazing at the light shining through and reflecting on the glass, I smile because next Christmas, I’ll be a married man.

Taking a minute to admire my months of planning, I head back to the kitchen to start the Nespresso machine, ready to make my sleeping prince coffee and get him out of bed to open all his presents and get to the second part of my proposal plan.

14

CHAPTER 2

DAVID

“Hmmm … Cinnamon …” I mumble, turning towards Jon, throwing my arm out, only he’s not there. His side of the bed is cold and empty.

I know he can’t be far as I flop back onto my pillow and look to the window.

It’s still dark outside, but I can see the warm, twinkling glow from the Christmas lights downstairs.

I love our apartment. Love how connected and open everything feels. But that also means I can hear Jon downstairs and smell the enticing scents wafting up from the kitchen—cinnamon and coffee—Jon is the best boyfriend ever!

Knowing him, I’m sure he’d want me to wait in bed for coffee and maybe some Christmas morning nookie, but I can’t be patient and wait.

I want to open the three presents downstairs—Yes, I counted them.

There are three for me and three for Jon. I’m nothing if not fair, but I do have a sexy red outfit ready for Christmas night, so really, Jon is getting four presents.

Rolling out of bed, I pad over to the grey chair next to the dressing table, grab my white t-shirt draped over it, and pull it on. Even in December, the mornings are still chilly, especially since the sun isn’t even up yet.

After making a quick stop in the bathroom, I descend the spiral staircase down to the kitchen. Placing every step carefully, I want to surprise Jon and try to make as little noise as possible. I stop and lean on the railing when I glimpse Jon in the kitchen, totally perving on my boyfriend.

Jon is everything any person could want. He’s handsome, gentle, caring, funny, and hung. One of my favourite parts of our daily routine, besides having sex and cuddling, is going to the gym together. There I get to see Jon glisten with sweat, face set in concentration, and his cock perfectly outlined in his grey sweatpants. I don’t care if the other women and men in the building’s gym ogle his perfect body—I know Jon is all mine.

Watching him now, making our favourite coffee, my chest warms with love. The feeling overwhelms me. It feels like my heart is close to bursting with how much I love him, and I don’t want to comprehend a day without him.

The colourful lights dance across Jon’s back, and I follow the glow down to where the cute Christmas boxer, with little sexy Santas on, rests above his perfectly sculpted ass and decide that instead of spying on Jon, I would rather be in his arms.

Taking the last few stairs down, I silently step up behind him, and wrap my arms around his waist.

“You enjoy the view, baby?” Jon asks as he turns and folds his arms around my shoulders before kissing my forehead.

“I was being stealthy,” I murmur as I nuzzle into Jon’s chest.

“You’ve never been stealthy in your life,” Jon says, chuckling, before tipping my chin up.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Jon says before kissing me, slow and wet.

I melt. Get lost in the feel of Jon’s love and strength. “Merry Christmas, Sir,” I smirk, knowing what will happen.

Thwack!

The smack to my ass reverberates around the kitchen.

“Behave,” Jon warns, stroking his palm over my bottom before he squeezes and elicits a moan from me.

“First coffee and presents, then I’ll make you come,” Jon whispers in my ear as he continues caressing his hand over my ass.

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