Page 76 of Sebastian

“I do. I didn’t want to be like my mother. I didn’t want to raise kids I couldn’t take care of. It was my greatest fear to become her.”

As he shares the depth of his hurt, I find my emotions surfacing, reminiscent of all the disappointment I have experienced. When my tears fall, he hugs me tighter, being my refuge in the storm. Our childhoods and worlds are vastly different, yet our pain and despair are the same.

He opens up, baring his soul, and I listen, absorbing his confession as he does mine. It brings us closer than before, our shared vulnerability contained in this sanity of my little apartment with a half-fluffed tree bearing witness to our shared sorrow.

“Is it too early to ask you to be my girlfriend?” he mumbles against my hair, his warm breath a gentle caress on the shell of my ear.

Once filled with the quiet aftermath of shared sadness, the room now holds a charged stillness. My arms around his neck clench with his question, knowing my response will change everything.

“I thought you don’t believe in relationships?”

“With you I do.”

EPILOGUE

SEBASTIAN

I’m tiptoeing around her kitchen, attempting to maintain stealth, butourcat seems determined to expose my covert mission with her relentless meowing. Cats are beyond my comprehension. I attempted to give her a friendly pet, only to have her nearly take a chunk out of my hand.

With her persistent meowing, I put her back in the bedroom with Chloe, only for her to crank up the volume on her meows even more. Whatever she’s after is a mystery to me, but if she jeopardizes my surprise, she’ll swiftly transition from beingourcat to justhercat.

“Shush, Jinkies,” I angry whisper as she saunters into the kitchen as if she’s not being an asshole. “I’m trying to surprise your mamma.”

“Surprise me with what?”

Chloe walks into the kitchen and slides her hands around my waist to hug me. As much as I appreciate her tits pressing into my back, I prefer them in my mouth like they were last night after I designed two holiday bells out of whipped cream on them.

“What is burning?”

“Dammit.”

She releases me as I turn toward her toaster. Slender streams of white smoke float to the ceiling as the stench of burnt toast fills her small kitchen. I quickly unplug the thing, but not before the fire alarm goes off, scaring that damn cat into the bedroom. That’s what finally gets that fucking feline off my back.

“Fuck.”

I search the counter tops looking for something to fan it with while Chloe already has the dishtowel in hand and is waving it in the air.

“The detectors are so sensitive,” she says in my defense.

But burnt toast is burnt toast, no matter how she spins it. Goddamn if she doesn’t look hot as fuck right now. Her sleep shorts are riding up her ass, her legs are long and lean as she stretches on her toes. The waistband gaps at her narrow stomach and the outline of her breasts are visible through the gingerbread man design of her top. I could set her right on my hard dick and fuck her against the wall right now. She wouldn’t have to do a damn thing but say yes.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m sore from last night,” she says when that blasted alarm goes silent.

Her gaze flickers down to my dick, pressing against the tight red boxer shorts that are trimmed in white fur and have a Santa stuck on the crotch pocket. In fact, Santa’s looking right the fuck at her and she’s still shaking her head.

“No, my sexy Santa. You already used that face on me last night to get your way. I’m still sticky from the whipped cream.”

She makes it a point to press her fingertips against her chest as if I give a damn. I love eating food off her body, that’s never going to end.

“Plus, you’ll ruin your present if I don’t tell you no.”

Both my ears and my dick perk up.

“Present? What present?”

I descend on her, grabbing her hips and shoving them against me so she can feel how turned on I am again.

“Can I have it now?’

---