Page 52 of Christmas Mafia Prince
His chest rumbles with laughter. “No. I think it’s you,mon chéri. All you,” he adds and tips my face up before diving for a kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and while I’m too spent to have another go now, the pleasant tingle racing up my spine is a promise of what comes when we’ve both rested. “You saw all of me and stayed. Means you’re something special.”
“Iwantall of you. No lies, no bullshit. And I love that you’re so passionate, and confident, and… maybe I’m naive, but I feel safe with you.” I stroke his side, in love with his body.
And let’s be honest: in love withhim, but I’m too intimidated to say that out loud just yet.
Damen’s eyes are so very warm when he smiles at me and slides one arm under my body, as if he wants to keep me safe from the hard surface under us. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”
We kiss some more until he pulls back to yawn, then hides his face in the crook of my shoulder. “I need a nap before the party tonight.”
“Ah, right. The Christmas Eve thing. The one you got me a suit for. Yes. Nap. Together. You’re not sleeping on the sofa again.”
Chapter 19
Killian
Thedazzlinglightsofthe Christmas Eve party at the Van der Horn mansion are probably so bright the astronauts can spot them from space. Drinks—both alcoholic and soft—stream freely, and the table of pre-dinner snacks overflows with all kinds of delicacies surrounding an ice sculpture depicting Santa’s sled
Damen looks so good in the slim burgundy suit I wish I could keep him to myself tonight, but that’s not gonna happen, so I try not to get too obviously erect as I imagine sucking him off behind the antique Japanese screen in the corner.
We missed the arrival of yet more guests earlier, but now Damen is introducing me to them all. I’m not surprised my presence at his side is no longer a big shock. After all, this place has internet access, and the news about Damen’s new husband has spread like wildfire. Some of the women want me to shop with them, the men offer to teach me golfing, but the most important new guest is still a bit confused about my role.
“He’s in a band?” Damen’s paternal grandmother Iris asks, narrowing her hooded eyes.
She’s small, with slim wrists and long fingers, but her blonde hair is coiffed into perfect waves, and her makeup—flawless. In the red dress with sequins all around the collar, she looks ready to deliver a speech after receiving an award for lifetime achievements. Too bad she can barely hear us.
“No, grandmom, I said he’smy husband,” Damen says a bit louder and reaches to her ear. She winces as he presses a switch on her hearing aid and repeats himself.
Painted-on eyebrows rise in confusion as her blue gaze swipes up and down my body. “So he’s a boy? Very short.”
For once, I swallow my pride. She’s in her nineties and allowed to say anything she wants about my height. “It’s nice to meet you, and Merry Christmas!” I say, maybe a bittooloudly, because now she recoils.
I’m too drunk on love to worry though. This is my life. Free snacks, booze on tap, extravagant jewelry, and maybe after Christmas I’ll even learn how to ski, because that’s what I do now. And most importantly, I’ve got Damen’s arm over my shoulders. I’ve never felt more appreciated.
“You can still have babies, don’t worry,” Grandma Iris tells Damen good-naturedly before one of the middle-aged people tempts her with a red velvet hot chocolate.
He glances at me with a silly grin. “Heard that, Killian? We can still have babies.”
“Do you think she knows about surrogates, or is she just confused?”
He puts his strong arm around me, and I know that whatever comes at me in this beautiful den of vipers big and small, he will have my back. “You never know with her. The old lady has worse and better days. It’s a shame Grandma Gladys couldn’t make the trip, but it’s physically a lot for her, so we might be visiting my other grandparents and older relatives next year.”
He’s already planning to show me off. I’m as giddy as the champagne sparkling in my hand. “So no other seniors for me to confuse tonight?” I grin and get to my toes for a quick kiss.
“No,” he says and refills my champagne flute. “But you’re free to confuse everyone else.”
Maybe it’s my look thatconfusedpoor Grandma Iris, because I’ve pulled out all the stops tonight. I'm in a black velvet blazer with no shirt underneath, my ink as decoration and the perfect canvas for the gold padlock choker. I told him I’ll die in it. Tonight, I’m justto die forin it. I'm wearing a second necklace, though, this one long and thin, it disappears into my jacket above my navel.
Damen wanted me to be my extravagant self, so why the fuck not? I make sure I hold the glass in my left hand to dazzle everyone with my engagement ring.
High-waisted pants hug my hips, and underneath? That’s for Damen to find out later. I’m also wearing polished boots with an inch of heel because yeah, I do actually care about my height. Hair slicked back completes the look along with dark eyeshadow with some sparkle (it’s Christmas after all).
I’m pleased to note that unlike me, Titus lookspositively awful, stuck wearing the fugly blazer with a pixelated print of pigs in Christmas garb. They even have little bells on their heads that jingle. He moves around the room, following his wife, who in turn clearly doesn’t want to risk ending up in a photo with him. He would have cheated and stopped wearing the thing by now if it wasn’t for the fact that his loss in the knife-throwing contest was very much public, and it’s better to give one’s wife the ick than be seen as dishonorable by other men.
Straights. I’ll never understand them.
At least Samantha is having the time of her life with a few other people as they prepare for a game of charades. She seems much less bothered by the failed matchmaking than Uncle Roger.
The party is in full swing, and when I spot Aspen sneaking punch into a flask, I roll my eyes. I guess it’s not like he’ll be driving anywhere tonight. I’m more alarmed when I see him pass that flask to an even younger cousin of Damen’s.
