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“Promise?” I ask, placing soft butterfly kisses on Jon’s collarbone.
“Promise. Now, go and sit down. I’ll bring over the coffee in a second,” Jon instructs.
The timer chimes just as I turn, so I stay and watch Jon grab a kitchen towel and drop to take something from the oven.
“Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?” I ask, leaning over Jon’s shoulder, trying to see into the hot cavern and watch him pricking the rolls with a toothpick, staring at them with a look of total concentration.
“What are you doing?”
“Fuck knows,” he says, chuckling. “Pedro said to push a toothpick in to check if they were done.”
“And?”
“It’s come out clean, so I guess they’re done. Oh, and Pedro says Merry Christmas, and to enjoy your first Christmas surprise,” Jon says, placing the steaming rolls onto the counter.
“My first Christmas surprise?” I squeal in delight, watching Jon turn and get something from the fridge.
“I may have one or two surprises in store for you this Christmas,” Jon replies, his smile mischievous. He’s carrying a small glass jug containing what I consider to be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Pedro’s rum and cinnamon icing is the best.
“Is that my favourite icing?” I ask.
“It is,” Jon says, getting a spoon from the drawer before pouring it over the rolls. “Want some?” He asks, tracing his finger through the sticky, sweet mixture.
“Uh-huh,” I say, my gaze locked on Jon’s finger.
Holding his sugar-coated finger out to me, he says, “Come and get it.”
I lean in, keep our eyes locked, and wrap my tongue around the tip of his finger before taking the digit deep. Licking and sucking it clean of all the yummy goodness before nipping up and kissing Jon’s sweet lips.
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Not today, no,” Jon says, wrapping me in his arms.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jon replies, patting me on the ass. “Now, go wait by the tree. I’m coming with your coffee and treats.”
“Oh, you’ll be coming soon enough,” I say sassily over my shoulder. Heading for the living room, I move past the couch and sit on the floor in front of the tree, waiting a little impatiently for Jon to join me so he can open his presents.
We’d spent Christmas Eve at my parents’ house with the extended family and opened their gifts there, and this afternoon, we’ll be joining Jon’s sister and parents for Christmas lunch. But this morning is ours.
At the beginning of our relationship, Jon had made it clear when there had been a bit of a fight over where we would spend Christmas. He’d put his foot down with both sets of parents and declared that Christmas morning was ours and that we would spend Christmas Eve and lunch with our respective families. That was the end of it. No one said anything on the subject again, and I love that about Jon.
He isn’t scared to say what he wants and goes after it. He’s assertive but gentle… especially in bed, which drives me crazy. I can’t wait to be under Sir’s control again. We just have to open our presents, and then we can go play.
I already know where every present is. I love Christmas, love buying, wrapping, giving, and receiving gifts. The colours, the glitter, and the joy that comes with Christmas time. Everything about the holiday is magical, from the jolly, fat man bringing presents to the roast lamb and trifle served on Christmas day.
But the best thing about Christmas is spending it with Jon.
Gazing at the decorations on the tree and the twinkling lights, I see something new, and I move closer, trying to see what it is, when Jon announces, “Cinnamon rolls and Nespresso.”
He places the tray laden with yummy goodies on the coffee table and sits on the teal upholstered ottoman close to me before giving me my coffee and roll.
After one glorious sip and a delicious mouthful, I grab a present. I can’t wait any longer for him to open his presents. As I turn to give it to him, I’m arrested by the sexy smirk gracing his face.
Jon’s grey eyes are laughing at me, and he looks so relaxed and sexy sitting there drinking his coffee in his boxer shorts that I forget about the present I have clutched in my hands.
“I wondered how long you would be able to contain yourself. I thought you would at least finish your cinnamon roll first,” Jon says, grinning and taking the last sip of his coffee.
