Christmas Carol

“Cyrus!” I laugh. What are you doing?” I didn’t need to ask though, because Cyrus is already unbuckling his pants.

“I think that’s pretty obviously, mi corazón. Hurry and take those sexy leggings of yours down,” he orders, his cock already out and he’s stroking it—like it’s not thirty degrees out here.

“You realize it’s cold out here right? Your dick will probably turn to ice,” I warn him.

“Don’t worry about me, Carol. I’ve got a much warmer place for my cock to be,” he purrs, making me giggle. I’m thankful I have a long coat on, because at least I can make sure my naked ass is lying on it and not the cold metal of the hood. I yank the coat off—even more thankful for the thick sweater I’m wearing—and do as Cyrus orders, because I’m not about to turn down making love with Cyrus.

“I love you, Cyrus,” I whisper up at him, as he rubs the head of his cock against my center. I’m already wet, I seem to stay ready when Cyrus is around.

“Mi corazón,” he groans. “My own Christmas angel,” he adds as he slides deep inside of me. “You make me believe in miracles, because you’re my own personal one.”

“And you’re mine,” I tell him. “Does this mean I’m your happy place?” I gasp as he sets the pace that will bring us to the edge, and then hurl us over.

“You’re more than that, Carol. You’re my own personal heaven,” he moans, his cock sliding in and out of me in a steady, forceful dance that allows me to let go and let my man take charge—exactly how we both like it.Carol“Sam, I know the appointment went well. I need you to work that to make sure it gets me off the shit list.”

I sigh. I can’t help it. Listening to Cyrus talk to his agent about getting transferred out of Mistletoe makes me nervous. Our time together has been wonderful, and I think he’s happy, but I also know his lifelong dream has been to play ball in the Major League and I want him to be happy. What I don’t know is if he plans on us still being together when he makes his move back to the big teams, or if he just views what we have as something temporary. Krissy told me that I just need to point blank demand to know what his plans are, but I haven’t.

I lack the nerve to ask him.

Luckily, my sister is too preoccupied right now to question me about my courage.

“Okay, Sam. Let me know how the meeting with Arizona goes,” Cyrus mutters, hanging up the phone.

We’re at Mistletoe Christmas Tree Farm to get a tree. My sister has her own trees, but I always like to pick out the perfect tree for the town here. I know Tyson and have for years. He’s a great guy and I like to support local businesses. He’s just recently started dating Eve, but he’s practically claimed her from the moment Eve moved to town. They’ll be married soon, because word about town is they’re practically living together now. Of course, they’re saying the same thing about me and Cyrus and here I am wondering what’s going to happen when he changes teams.

“What do you think of this one?” I ask Cyrus, now that I have his attention.

“Bebé, I don’t think that one will fit in your house,” he laughs.

I stare up at the twelve-foot tree and then back at him, rolling my eyes.

“I meant for the town of Mistletoe. I’m always in charge of picking the town tree,” I laugh.

“Oh. In that case, I think it’s beautiful.”

“Do you think it’s full enough?”

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“That’s not really an answer, Cyrus. What kind of tree do you like?”

“You want the honest answer here, Carol?” he asks, hands in his pockets, lips pursed.

“Yes?” I frown, not understanding.

“This will be the first tree I’ve ever had. Christmas has never brought anything but bad memories for me, so I mostly ignore the holiday,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Bad memories?”

“It was Christmas when I was placed with the state home the first time, mi corazón,” he admits to me softly.

“Well shit,” I grumble, feeling like an idiot. “I’m sorry, Cyrus.”

“You didn’t know,” he says with a shrug. “And besides, it was a long time ago.”

“I guess. You know what I am going to do now?”

“What’s that?” he laughs.

“I’m going to make sure that you have the most fantastical Christmas ever,” I brag.

“And exactly how are you going to do that?” he asks with a smirk.

“You’ll see, but I must warn you, they don’t call me Christmas Carol for nothing,” he laughs. I turn around to see if I can get Tyson’s attention and Cyrus smacks my ass. “Hey! What’s that for?” I ask rubbing my butt and ignoring how wet I get with just that one little slap.