“You did this for me?” My voice caught in my throat.
“I remember you talking about how much you missed having real trees after you moved out of your mom’s place,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “You said your apartment was too small, but now...”
“Now we have room,” I finished for him, emotion welling up inside me.
It was such a simple thing, a Christmas tree, but it represented so much more. This was our first home together, our first Christmas. After everything we’d been through, all the pain and misunderstandings, we were finally building something real. Something that was just ours.
“I thought we could decorate it together,” Kent said, gesturing toward a few boxes stacked in the corner. “I found some ornaments at that vintage shop you like downtown. And I got these...”
He led me to one of the boxes and pulled out two ornaments, still in their packaging. They were handcrafted glass balls, one with my name etched in elegant script, the other with his.
“Our first ornaments,” I said, taking mine from his hand. The glass caught the light, sending prisms dancing across the walls. “Kent, this is...perfect.”
He looked pleased with himself, that little half-smile I’d grown to love tugging at his lips. “I thought maybe we could start a tradition. Get a new ornament every year.”
Every year. The casual way he talked about our future still caught me off guard sometimes. Not because I didn’t want it. God, I wanted it more than anything. But because it still felt miraculous that we’d found our way here at all.
“I love that idea,” I said, setting the ornament carefully on the coffee table. “But first...”
I grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward me, kissing him deeply. His arms immediately wrapped around me, strong and sure, as he backed me toward the tree. The scent of pine intensified as we brushed against the branches, needles gently scratching my arms.
“What about the groceries?” Kent murmured against my lips, his hands already sliding under my shirt.
“They can wait,” I breathed, feeling the familiar heat building between us. “Turn off the lights.”
“The tree lights too?” he asked, his fingers teasing along my spine.
“No,” I said, already working on the buttons of his shirt. “Just the regular ones. I want to see you in the glow of the tree.”
Kent grinned and quickly moved to hit the light switch, plunging the room into semi-darkness, illuminated only by the soft white lights of the Christmas tree. When he returned to me, his eyes were dark with desire, his shirt lost somewhere near the light switch.
“You know,” he said, his voice low as he pulled my sweater over my head, “I’ve never fucked under a Christmas tree before.”
I laughed, the sound turning into a gasp as his mouth found my neck. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“First time for us, at least,” I replied, my hands already working on his belt buckle. “I bet you’ve done plenty of things under Christmas trees before.”
“Not the things I want to do with you,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin.
We sank to the floor together, the plush rug beneath us a welcome cushion. Kent’s weight pressed me down as his mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, more insistent. The white lights twinkled above us, casting shadows across his perfect face and muscled chest. I couldn’t believe how beautiful he lookedlike this, illuminated only by Christmas lights, his eyes dark with lust,wantingme.
“God, I love you,” I whispered, running my hands over his shoulders, down his back, feeling the familiar contours of his body.
“Then show me,” he challenged, his voice husky as he worked my jeans down my hips.
Soon we were both naked, skin against skin, the cool air of the room making me shiver. Or maybe that was just Kent’s touch, the way his fingers traced patterns down my chest, circling lower with deliberate slowness.
“The tree was supposed to be romantic,” he said with a grin, hovering above me. “But all I can think about is watching you ride my cock under it.”
“That’s plenty romantic to me,” I gasped as his hand wrapped around my dick, stroking slowly.
The scent of pine surrounded us, fresh and clean, mixing with the familiar smell of Kent’s skin. It was intoxicating. I pulled him down for another kiss, tasting chocolate and mint. He’d been into the peppermint patties while I was gone too. Our tongues tangled together as his hand continued its maddening rhythm between us.
“Where’s the lube?” I managed to ask between kisses.
“Shit,” Kent laughed. “Didn’t exactly plan this part.”
I grinned up at him. “Bedroom’s too far.”
