“Yes, but,” she said as she put on the shirt, “it has a Christmas scene in it, which makes it a Christmas movie.”
“Is that really how it works?”
“Absolutely! Anything is a Christmas movie if you try hard enough.”
“You're just going to do that and then not come back to bed?” I called out as she walked out of the room. I stared at the doorway in mild disbelief. Then I jumped out of bed and pulled on pants to run down the stairs after her.
“You said there was Italian food,” she called back to me. “You better have ordered garlic bread and tiramisu. Otherwise I'll just be like the Ghost of Christmas Past, never to grace your bed again.”
I grabbed her.
“If you're that easily bought, I'll have tiramisu brought to you every single day,” I growled, grabbing her and kissing her, my hands roaming over her back and down to her ass.
“I’m starving,” she murmured against my mouth. “I had sex and alcohol. Now my brain wants food. Though if you're really antsy, I can definitely eat and fuck.”
“That sound like a choking hazard,” I said, following her through the condo.
“I don't know, a cupcake piled high with extra frosting? I could totally ride your dick and eat that,” she said cheerfully.
My dick thought that was a very good idea and was actually committing to literally bake a cupcake and frost it just to try that out.
“I think the food might be cold now, though,” I said. “I should have put it in the oven before we…”
“You were distracted,” Holly said, turning around and pressing kisses against my bare chest. “But hey, you’ve been distracting me a lot lately, so fair's fair. So what did you get? Chicken parmesan? Fettuccini alfredo? Orrr,” she said when we stared at the scene in the kitchen. “Huskyà la Italiene.”
Instead of the neat paper sack of Italian food, there was a small husky covered in tomato sauce. He was lying on the ground, belly round. He wagged his tale and burped when he saw us.
“What are you doing? You're ruining my evening!” I scolded him.
“Fortunately, he only stole one container,” Holly said, giggling as she set the empty vessel on the counter and picked up the bag holding the rest of the food.
“There were supposed to be five meatballs plus pasta. That dog ate all of them.” I shook my head at Rudolph. “Geez, you need a bath.”
Holly pulled a bucket out from under the sink and set it in the basin. She poured soap in it and ran the hot water. I stuck the puppy in the soapy water, and he howled while I cleaned the tomato sauce from the floor.
“At least he licked most of it up,” Holly said and laughed as she rinsed Rudolph. “Though watching a man clean is very sexy!”
She wrapped Rudolph in a towel, and I reheated the food. The candles had burned down, but Holly seemed pleased as we sat at the table.
“Oh my God, I didn't even realize you had a Christmas-themed tablecloth!”
“I aim to please.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, scooping a pile of pasta onto her plate. “Dinner. Sex. Alcohol.” She toasted me. “Merry Christmas to us!”
*
“I really needto stop fucking you on a weekday,” I told Holly the next morning in between kisses. She was about to leave. “I want you all to myself for at least a weekend.”
Actually, for my whole life.
“I'm going Christmas food shopping,” she said. “The holiday baking party is tomorrow. You know, I should buy you a red suit with snowflakes all over it,” she teased.
“Please don't.”
“You know you want it!”
“I really don't. I'd rather have you in a red suit.”
