Page 27 of Twelve Dates of Christmas

He pressed harder, making sharp circles on that sensitive nub he tormented while I buried my face in his shoulder, muffling the sounds coming from me. He kissed my neck, curling into me while he pushed me into a blinding orgasm. It left me throbbing for more, though.

Next thing I knew, he was carrying me into the house. He didn’t go to our bedroom, though.

“What’s this?” I asked in a daze when he set me on my feet in a brightly lit room.

“Remember on our first date, the partridge in a pear tree question?”

“Yes.” Okay, I was even more confused now.

“This is a partridge in a pear tree… Tomorrow morning, we’ll be rushing out of here—after I make love to my soon to be wife, of course—so I wanted to give you your Christmas present now. Your pear tree. You see, I don't think the boon of the first day of Christmas was the partridge. It was the pear tree, that would keep on growing and giving and providing. Like the two of us. Like our love. And just like your business that you can run out of here, taking the sticker and planner world by storm—I have every faith in the world you will. You’re determined.”

“Oh my God…” I looked around the space again, with windows on two sides that would fill it with sunlight. With the work tables he’d already set up in the middle.

He dropped to his knee. “I love you, Holly. Will you please be my wife, my partner in this life we’re going to build together? Will you take my gold ring…every day? For five golden decades? For forever?”

Of course, I said yes. Forever with Rylan would never be enough. Thank God, it hadn’t only been twelve dates.

“I love you,” I whispered after he ripped open his pants and shoved aside my panties so he could surge inside me. To seal the deal. My man was all about nailing things down—and nailing me.

“I love you. I love you, my perfect holiday angel. My one.”

I threaded my hand into his hair and brought his lips to mine. “You’re my one,” I echoed. “Merry Christmas. Merry forever.”

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