Page 11 of Naughty Elf: Wink

Derek ordered pizza and wings, and the four of them ate and watched the game. I, however, watched my mate. Was he stealing glances my way, or was I just being hopeful? This was torture!

When the game finished, I figured everyone would leave, but instead, Derek’s dad glanced my way. “Hey, Son, when are you finally going to take down your Christmas tree?” he asked, a strange expression on his face. “Pretty sure it’s dead, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Derek’s eyes flicked over to me, looking guilty. “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet… I guess I just like all the magic of Christmas, and there wasn’t anything to celebrate in January, so I… just left it.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could see the tension in him.

We both knew there was something more here at play, but without his connection to his animal, he had no clue that we were mates. And since he was adopted, his parents were in the dark about shifters too, so Derek couldn’t possibly understand this draw he felt or the magic involved.

Maybe I should just tell him… What could possibly go wrong?

Leander got up off the couch. “Come on, we’ll help you pack it up. No more excuses. That tree is making me sad.”

“Oh… okay.” Derek reluctantly got up off the couch and went to grab the empty box from the storage closet.

It only took a few minutes, with everyone helping. The ornaments were plucked off the bare branches one at a time, then wrapped in tissue paper or bubble wrap and nestled into the box. One by one, I watched my silent companions get packed away, my heart ratcheting up until I thought it would burst straight out of my tiny glass chest. Did Christmas ornaments even have a blood pressure? Because it sure felt like I did!

At last, I was the only one left. With a drawn-out sigh, Derek drew my string off the branch, cradling me lovingly in his palm. He gazed at me, drinking in my every detail. Even made of glass, I could feel his gentle touch as he stroked a finger along my cheek. Then a crease formed between his eyebrows, and he turned to Leander and asked ina quiet voice, “Hey, does this ornament look different to you? His hair looks longer, and I’m pretty sure his position has changed.”

Leander looked at him skeptically, then glanced at me, an eyebrow quirked. “What, like he’s alive?” He snorted a laugh. “That’s just silly.”

Derek forced a laugh. “Yeah. Silly…”

But instead of packing me in the box alongside my ornament brethren, he carried me over to the bookshelf in the corner and set me on the ledge. I watched as he carried the box to the storage closet, but it seemed I would get to stay. For now…

8

Derek

For the next several nights, I was plagued by the strangest dreams. They weren’t nightmares, not exactly, but they were frustrating as hell. My Christmas elf was hanging on a bare tree, a pile of dry needles around its base, but when I reached to bring him down, the tree grew taller, his branch constantly out of reach. I tried to climb the tree, but the pile of needles acted like quicksand, dragging me down. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to him.

“Help me, Derek!” he called.

“I’m trying!” Time and time again, I tried to climb, but I made no progress. He only seemed to get farther away, and I felt so devastated, like he was meant to be mine, but we would never be together.

Every morning, I woke up feeling hollow and aching—and not just my heart! My dick was throbbing with the rhythm of my pulse, leaking precum, slick dampening the sheet beneath me. I kept kicking off my underwear, the blanket thrown aside, as if I had a fever, but my doctor had found nothing wrong. I would get out of bed and check to makesure my little elf ornament was still right where I’d left him on the bookshelf.

But then, on the fourth night, something changed. I woke up in the middle of the night, which was highly unusual for me, and I swore I heard someone moving around my bedroom. I cracked open my eyes, and there he was! My elf!

He had just turned away and was headed for the door, and panic gripped me. “Please don’t leave me,” I whispered.

He paused and turned back to look at me, a sad longing crossing his features. He was dressed just as his ornament was, in a red vest and pants, with a velvet coat.

“Wink,” I called his name, the one from my dream. “You’re always leaving me. No matter how hard I try, I can never get to you. Please…” He still hadn’t moved, so I reached my hand out, wondering if this was just like all the dreams.

But instead of slipping away, he turned toward me and took my hand. I gasped at the warmth of it. He felt soreal! I tugged, urging him closer, and he sat on the edge of the bed. “You know I can’t stay,” he said gently.

“Why not?” I asked, tracing the intricate embroidery along the cuff of his jacket with my thumb.

He closed his eyes in a long blink. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Do I look scared to you?”

He looked at me closely, then smiled. “No. But are you really awake, or am I just another one of your dreams?”

“You tell me,” I said, teasing. “Will you at least stay with me until I fall asleep again?”

I thought he would say no, but after a long moment, he nodded. “Sure, I can do that.” He stood up and shrugged off his jacket, layingit across the chair in the corner, then I heard the soft tinkling of bells as he removed his slippers. “Move over,” he said, nudging me.

I didn’t want to move over. I wanted him to be as close to me as he could get—on top of me would be preferable. He straightened the covers over me then lay down on top of them, and I huffed in annoyance. “So proper,” I muttered.

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