Page 53 of Unwrap Him

“Mmff…” he mumbles into my mouth from the ferocity of my sensual kisses, and I chuckle. “You’re… distracting me.”

“What else is new?” I grin on his lips.

We pull apart, and he lifts his fingers to brush the hair away from where it wants to flop over my forehead. Clearing my throat, I stow the urges to lift him up onto the counter and tear off that dumb apron he still always wears—the one I gave him for Christmas last year—along with his fitted Rick and Morty boxer briefs, and make him come, and come and come…

To show him who he belongs to. And how I take care of what’s mine.

“You know… Christmas Eve is tomorrow…” I murmur, slipping my fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

“Oh… really??” He gasps sarcastically, and I pinch his butt. He squeals into a laugh.

“I’m just saying… That’s, like, our anniversary.” I smirk, trailing a fingertip toward the crack of his ass. He purrs. “We should celebrate.”

“Oh, trust me,” he hums, tracing the lines of my bare chest, “I have a very special gift for you this Christmas, Daddy.”

A growl rumbles from me into him, my dick firming up nice, as I press it into his. “I love the sound of that, sweet boy.”

The excitement on his face lights him up, and he inches in, kissing my neck and throat, I think so that he can distract his mouth from accidentally blurting out the surprise he’s holding.

Jesse loves Christmas. It’s definitely his favorite holiday. I mean, he loves all holidays. He’ll find any excuse to decorate and cook elaborate meals, baking up even more complex desserts. Every holiday is celebrated in our house, but Christmas is a special one. Even more so now, because it is our anniversary.

The anniversary of when we crossed a line separating the two very different sides of our family. Father and son, to partners… Sexual, and otherwise.

It’s a line I never could have anticipated crossing with him before. But now, I can’t even imagine not having tumbled over it.

Who knew him accidentally sucking my dick in his sleep would be the best thing that ever happened to either of us?

“Why are you making so many of these gingerbread dongs, baby?” I ask, while palming his taut, plump ass.

“I was going to bring some to Blake and Kenneth,” he tells me, still running his lips over the mound of my throat while it dips with my gulp. “You know, that couple we met the other day at the beach?”

My muscles are instantly tight. Yes, I remember the couple we met. I also happen to remember the way they were checking him out, subtly flirting with my partner, who’s too sweet to even notice such things.

Jesse was just chatting with them, the way he does. Sort of innocently, answering their questions and being polite, while I was standing there, glaring behind my sunglasses. To be fair, it’s not like they were actually hitting on Jesse in front of me… In fact, it seemed like they were sort of trying to flirt with both of us. Maybe part of their holiday vacation in St. Barth is finding another couple to fool around with… And Jesse and I became their prime target.

Jesse didn’t pick up on it, apparently. He just thought they were being nice. And now he’s baking them cookies… Because he’s literally too sweet for real life.

I must be tenser than I thought, because Jesse pulls back and peers up at me.

“Is that really necessary?” I grumble to him.

His forehead lines. “Why not?? It’s a nice thing to do.”

“Do you have to be nice to strangers?”

His lips curl at the corner. “No need to be so Grinchy, James.” I narrow my gaze at him, and he chuckles. “It’s Christmas. And I love baking. I want to be able to share these awesome sweets with people who will appreciate them.”

I nod as he wiggles out of my arms, but not without first pressing a soft kiss on my chest. He goes back to scooping the cookies off the baking sheet, arranging them with the others as he prepares to decorate them.

Watching him move effortlessly around the kitchen, I have this urge inside… And not the one I usually get. To cover him in icing and eat him alive.

This one is more like a fervent need to fulfill him. To give him everything he could ever desire; whatever he needs to be happy.

Since we moved here, we’ve sort of just been living vacation life, like we’re retired or something. With the money I got for selling the business, we’re comfortable. I know I’ll need to start bringing in some money at some point, but I won’t need much to finance our lives down here. More than anything, finding a job would just be something to keep me busy.

But Jesse is so young. He can’t possibly just spend his time catering to me, and riding my dick until my balls are drained empty, no matter how much he loves it. He needs a project. A purpose.

Back in Maine, his plan was to take some culinary classes, and maybe start working at a restaurant. He could do that here. But is that still what he wants?

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