Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Black, purple and neon green.
His taste just like Josh’s.
And I can’t help but wonder… if someday. Just maybe. Those pictures will have some more alongside them.
Pictures of us.
My heels clack as I walk across Heath’s tiled black and white floor, my hand sliding across the grand ebony banister rail. I walk on into the living room with its massive period looking fireplace, and his bookshelves on either side. I kick off my heels on his purple rug with flecks of green and take a seat on his black sofa, getting myself comfy with his big cartoon lip cushion.
Heath’s fire is lit, burning bright. His tree is black with purple fairy lights, and the baubles are neon green. And as for the tree topper, it’s a great choice. A sparkling silhouette of a bat, that must be bespoke, because you’d never find one like that on the high street. No chance.
Our host grabs a bottle of red from the kitchen. He pours out our glasses with a season’s greetings, and Josh doesn’t hold back from drinking this time. The driving limit doesn’t apply anymore tonight.
“What an absolute delight,” our host says. “I’m so used to solitary festivities outside of celebrity socials. I was expecting a night holed up with mince pies and The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
His cool blue eyes are magnetic as he looks at Josh.
“I’m honoured, truly.”
“Nah,” Josh says, and pulls him in for another hug. “We’re honoured. Ella was practically dancing about the place when you accepted the date change.”
“So were you!” I say. “Don’t play it down, Josh. You were grinning like the Cheshire cat.”
“I had a grin myself, in fact,” Heath tells us. “Quite a wide one.” He laughs. “And quite a hard dick at the thought of a Christmas fuck under the tree. It needs a christening. It’s been barren for years.”
I’m absolutely gagging to christen Heath’s Christmas tree, but there is much more to this gathering than his dick.
He’s being surprisingly wary. I can read it behind his smile. The walls still up, ever so slightly.
“We didn’t just come here for your steely cock,” I say. “I mean, we love your dick and all, and can’t ever get enough of it, but that’s not the reason we’re here today, and you know it.”
“Jesus, Ells,” Josh says. “We’re barely through the door and you’re getting serious. At least finish up your glass of red before getting to the heart to heart.”
He’s laughing, but I’m not, because his walls are still up, too. Just a touch.
But mine aren’t.
I have no walls left to come down. They are already demolished and the broken bricks have been bulldozed away.
“You guys both know why we’re here, so just admit it. To us and not to normal. Normal can go fuck itself, because Christmas is special. It’s real. It’s about being with the people you love.”
Both guys look at me as I raise my glass.
“So, here’s to us, and the road ahead. Here’s to being with the people you love at Christmastime.”
“Well, I’m down for that,” Heath says, and raises his glass. “Here’s to being with the people you love at Christmastime. It’s a new one for me.”
“Here’s to being with the people you really fucking adore, beyond anything else in the world, at Christmastime,” Josh says. “Cock or not, it has nothing to do with it. Just call that a Christmas bonus.”
When the guys join lips this time, the wine is forgotten. Heath kisses my boyfriend as though he’s life itself, and my heart pangs to think of Heath having spent years alone on Christmas Day.
It was because I was so desperate to be with the people who love me last Christmas that I joined The Agency in the first place, to raise money for the flights to get to them, and here we are with a new kind of love.
Josh isn’t just my boyfriend anymore, that’s obvious from the way the two of them kiss like star-crossed lovers. He’s Heath’s boyfriend, too.
It suits me just fine.
It suits me better than fine.
It suits me better than anything else there could possibly be in the world.
Because I want to be Heath Mason’s girlfriend, just as much as I’m Josh’s. I know where I want our road to lead, no matter what the cost.
I put my wine glass down on the coffee table and cast aside the cartoon lip cushion, getting to my feet to join the pair of loved up men and press myself against them. They include me in their kisses with smiles, all three of us as one besotted trio beside Heath’s eccentric Christmas tree.
And this is where I’m planning to stay, as long as Heath will have us.
Our suitcase is in the car, with enough attire to last us through to New Year’s Eve, and our proposals don’t begin again until the third.