His fingers slid up my shirt to my belly, not carrying about the couple pounds I’d put on in the last six weeks. He didn’t care that my ass was bigger either. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it more, judging from the way he liked to take me from behind so often. My tits were bigger too—and he definitely liked that. “Now I understand why everyone loves Christmas…”When I woke up Christmas morning, I immediately got into the shower and got ready for breakfast with my family. I did my hair and makeup more extensively than usual and grabbed an outfit I’d bought just for the occasion.
I’d officially blown through my savings, didn’t have a euro to my name anymore because I spent everything I had on Heath’s gift. So, I had to start using his money to buy things, which didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.
I really had no other choice.
He gave me a debit card he’d ordered at the bank, giving me access to his account even though I wasn’t his wife yet. But I took it because I wouldn’t return to the ballet until February, and as of right now, I wasn’t even sure if I was physically able.
When I finished getting ready, I looked at my appearance in the mirror, wearing a long-sleeved red dress with black tights underneath and thigh-high black boots. My hair was curled, and the rock on my left hand accentuated my outfit in a way I could only have dreamed of.
Heath stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist. “Damn, Merry Fucking Christmas.” He moved to me, bending his neck down to kiss me as he grabbed my ass through the tights.
I smiled into the kiss. “Merry Christmas.”
“Lose the tights,” he said. “I want to fuck you in this later.”
“Romantic…”
His hand moved into my hair until he grabbed me by the back of the neck, turning possessive in just seconds. “I’m romantic in my own way.” He gave me a hard kiss on the mouth before he released me, noticing the ring on my left hand. “You’re sure about that?”
I cradled my hand with the other, admiring the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. “Yes.”
He didn’t give any outward reaction, but there was a slight look of approval in his gaze. “I’ll get dressed.” He dropped the towel, his dick nice even when it was soft, and stepped into his closet.
I opened my nightstand and grabbed the small box I’d wrapped for Heath and carried it into the living room to place it under the tree.
But when I got there, there was already a present sitting there.
It was wrapped in silver wrapping paper, and instead of a bow, a single sunflower sat on top. It was lush and full, like it had just been plucked in the last day. It was such a stark contrast to the gloomy weather outside, the bitter cold that frosted the windows because Heath kept this place warm like a furnace—for me.
I grabbed the tag and flipped it over.
To: Sunflower
From: Your Man
He’d never called me Sunflower before, just baby, but it fit me so perfectly. I didn’t expect him to get me anything because Christmas was a foreign holiday to him. I got him something because I wanted him to have a special Christmas with a special gift. I sat there for a while, staring at the box, having no idea what he could have possibly gotten me.
He came into the room a moment later, looking like a new man in his dark jeans and his deep olive-green sweater, wearing dress shoes that were much fancier than the boots he usually wore. I’d picked everything out for him, and he wore the clothes without complaint, which was great, because he looked so handsome.
I was still on the floor. “You got me something?”
He sat on the couch, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. “Yes.”
“You didn’t have to do that…”
“You didn’t have to get me anything either.”
“Well, you didn’t need to get me something just because—”
“I got your gift a month ago.”
So, he’d already picked it out before I even thought about Christmas. “You want to open them now?”
“Sure.”
I grabbed both of them and sat beside him, handing him his small gift.
“You first.” He rested it on his thigh.
I grabbed the flower and brought it to my nose, immediately thinking of summer from the smell alone. The petals grazed my cheek, making me think of a meadow in the hot sun. “You should take me to your place is Tuscany sometime.”
“How about this summer?” he asked. “We’ll have a second honeymoon.”
I rested the flower on the couch beside me before I broke through the tape that affixed the wrapping to the box. I ripped it off, revealing a simple black box with a lid. When I took off the lid, the contents were wrapped in tissue paper, like it was a pair of shoes. I pulled everything away until I stared at a pair of pink ballet slippers.