Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Greer weighed his options. “I’ll eat later when we’re done here. Maybe a cookie and a water for now.”
“Right away, Sir.” Archie scurried off.
“Here comes the fighter jet.” I made an impressive jet sound and flew a forkful of food to Kit’s mouth. That never failed to amuse him.
“It’s so quiet and peaceful now,” Reese noted. “Did Noa pass out?”
“Shut up, meaniepants,” Noa bitched. “I’ll punch you.”
He wasn’t passed out—yet. He was close, though. Snuggled up between KC and Lucian with a blanket and a stuffie. Cute as fuck.
“There will be no punching on my watch,” Santa said. “Okay, new bag, new set of gifts. It’s time to find out what the brats have been up to this month.”
“I thought Santa knew everything.” Shay smirked.
Santa frowned. “Shut up, meaniepants. I’ll punch you.”
“Remind me again of the difference between brats and Sadists,” Luke muttered. “Because I don’t see one.”
I waved my fork at him. “Sadists make the rules.”
“Only if they’re also Doms,” he pointed out smartly.
Dick.
“All in favor of Lucas shuttin’ his trap?” Santa asked.
“Aye!” We’d cast our votes. Moving on.
Santa was suddenly impatient, so he went for three gifts at once. From Gael to Sloan, from Shay to Kingsley, and from Archie to Lucian. And I zoned out a bit, more interested in my food and Kit snuggling up against me. He was getting tired too. It’d been a long day.
“May I put on my clothes again, Sir?” I heard Franklin ask quietly. He looked good on the floor, I couldn’t lie.
“Why?” Jack combed his fingers through Franklin’s hair. “Are you cold?”
“No, I just—”
“Then no.” Jack smiled.
“Jesus Christ,” Kingsley blurted out.
“I’ll second that,” Lucian said.
I furrowed my brow and shifted my attention to those who’d just opened their gifts.
“What’s the matter?” KC wondered.
Kingsley gusted out a breath and raised his brows, then revealed…an old book. And a fancy-looking pen.
“My, my, that looks like a first edition, Master,” Tate said.
“Archie gave me a set of engraved cuff links and a very nice tie.” Lucian cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “This is incredibly generous, pet.”
I narrowed my eyes at Kit, who was refusing to make eye contact.
Sloan was equally moved by Gael’s gift, a pair of custom-designed All Stars and what looked like a 3D-printed figurine. Four, actually. Four little characters standing together.
Those bratty fucking shits. This was their plan. To one-up us, to be thoughtful…after we’d given them kinky, tongue-in-cheek gifts.
Oh, but the joke was on them. Sort of. We had a plan B. Clearly, we’d need to execute it.
Jack, River, and Luke were up next, and Archie handed out their presents. Macklin had gifted Jack a cooking class at his restaurant for two—Franklin as well. From Tate, River unwrapped a mailbox. An actual mailbox. Oh, it was for their house. It was painted on too.
“My students helped me paint it, Sir,” Tate murmured. “That’s you and Reese holding hands with Shay—and Shay’s last name peels off, you know, for obvious reasons.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Luke smiled.
It really fucking was.
River opened the mailbox and exhaled a laugh. A handful of ramen cups fell out.
This wasn’t solely Tate’s idea, was it? He’d picked out Shay’s gift for Kingsley. The brats had all teamed up.
“You don’t know how much this means to me.” River cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
Tate beamed in satisfaction.
Reese draped an arm around his brother and kissed the side of his head.
“I’m gonna remember the looks on your faces forever,” Noa snickered sleepily.
I set aside my plate. I had to prepare myself. If Kit had helped Noa pick out something for me, chances were it was going to hit all the feels.
I side-eyed Luke, who was smiling at his own gift. It was buried in silk paper, so I had to lean over Macklin to see what it was.
Turned out, it was several things. A Christmas ornament that read, “Our first Christmas together.” A picture frame with a photo of Luke, Kit, and me from this summer. We’d been sitting on our porch outside our cabin in Mclean. Mid-conversation, mid-laughter, with Kit on Luke’s lap. Last but not least, a stack of vintage frames for “a lifetime of family moments.”
It was my turn to clear my throat, ’cause that shit just got to me. And I glanced over at Reese, Greer, Kingsley, all the Tops—just to make sure we were on the same page. A few subtle nods did it. We were definitely adding plan B to the roster.
“I can’t really find the words,” Luke admitted. “Thank you so very much, sweetheart.”
Cam grinned. “You’re welcome, Sir.” The secretive glance he exchanged with Kit right after confirmed my suspicion.
“All right. Uh…” Santa stepped on it and hauled out the last boxes. “To KC from Franklin, to Reese from Corey, to Colt from Noa, and to Greer from Kit.”