10. Jasper

10

Jasper

H e was an idiot, obviously. But eventually, the most obvious things made it into even his thick head.

Such as the fact that he could never have given his mate her best Christmas ever by keeping so busy they didn’t have any time for each other.

He and Abigail crept down the hallway, giggling like teenagers trying not to get caught. His foot caught on a stray decoration—he didn’t look, but it clonked like one of the nutcrackers Abigail had banished for looking too creepy. The sound echoed down the hallway and they both froze, clutching one another, suddenly feeling like intruders in their own house.

Jasper met Abigail’s eyes. He only meant it as a glance; a knowing wink, a wry comment about Christmas coming for them in the form of an army of poorly designed Nutcracker dolls.

Her face was flushed. Her eyes danced with excitement—and frustration, and a trace of wariness because what if Ruby woke up, and amusement because here was that damn Nutcracker, again, and all of a sudden he saw what wasn’t there.

The anxiety. The worry. The tension and stillness that had haunted him and his dragon for the last month.

She gazed up at him, and everything else in her eyes melted away into a love that burned like the sun and wrapped warm arms around his soul. “That stupid doll,” she muttered, and her voice did delicious things to him. “I thought I threw it out.”

“You never throw anything out. You feel too sorry for them.” He leaned her against the wall, brushing hair off her face. “Any poor little—”

And then, just as he still teasing her and himself into things, she got in first and kissed him.

The press of her lips to his, the nuzzle of her nose, the way she lifted one hand and touched the tips of her fingers to the edge of his jaw, tracing the bristles of his beard up to the ticklish spot by his ear—his body responded, and he kissed her back the way she liked best, holding her as her knees trembled.

When he finally released her, she gasped in a way that made the mate bond flare.

“Poor little what?” she demanded, eyes bright, challenging and exhilarated.

“Poor little dragon, lost in the snow?” he suggested.

“Poor little Halloween cat, stuck up on the roof.” Her mouth curved into a smile of bittersweet kindness. “Waiting for someone to take her home. No wonder I can’t throw out any other horrible toys.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Before she could respond, he hitched his arms under her ass, lifting her up and holding her close against him. He could bury his face in her chest—or look up into the face of his mate, worshipful and with a promise he fully intended to keep.

She blushed. Holy Christmas. Six years, and he could still make his mate blush like she’d never been looked at this way before.

Six years is nothing, his dragon rumbled. She’s ours forever. And we are hers.

His voice caught in his throat. When he finally managed to speak, the words came out rough-edged. “I’ll always take you home.”

“I’m already there.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll take you to bed.”

If any other stray decorations tried to stop them on their way to the bedroom, he didn’t notice. They tumbled through the door together, almost slamming it behind them and then turning as one to grab it and close it slowly, gently, silently.

They looked at each other as the door clicked shut, and a spark flew between them. Literally.

“Careful,” Abigail breathed. “We’ve had enough wildfires for one night.”

“I’ll be good,” Jasper promised, and his mate’s eyes flooded black with desire.

“Does that mean I get to be naughty?”

She led him towards the bed and he stumbled back obediently, feeling as though his feet weren’t even touching the ground.

Eyes alight with mischief, she pressed one finger in the center of his chest and pushed. He let himself fall. The bed caught him like a cloud.

Abigail took her time in following him. She stood at the end of the bed, leaning to plant her hands on his thighs. Her sweater neckline hung down, giving a glimpse of warm curves he wanted to touch.

She slid her hands up, just an inch, but enough to make his body harden to rock.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Tell me what you want.”

“What? Talk things through, like mature adults?” She straightened, slowly, her hands drifting off his thighs with tantalizing slowness. “That doesn’t sound like us.”

“That seems harsh. We each wanted to make the other happy.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that, except when it turns into a ridiculous slideshow of bad decisions.” She played with the hem of her sweater long enough that his fingers itched to tear it off her, then got onto the bed, straddling him on her knees. “Help me with this?”

“Gladly.” He snuck his fingers under her sweater and smoothed his palms over her warm skin, brushing his thumbs over the dips of each hip where he knew it would make her tighten with anticipation. She moaned gently and hitched her hips forward.

Beneath the sweater she was all soft curves and warmth, and oh, shit, she was wearing the snowflake-patterned bra he’d bought her a few years ago. He made a low growl deep in his throat and she laughed.

“What?”

“Why did I waste my time with tree decorating schemes this year when I should have bought you more lingerie?”

She laughed again, which was perfect, because laughter shaking her body made her look even better.

He wanted to bury himself in her. Face, dick, it didn’t matter; he wanted to press his body to her, wanted to make her shake and quiver and come until she was panting and flushed.

“What are you thinking?” Abigail’s voice broke through his sudden rush of desire, pinning it as surely as she was pinning him between her legs. She pressed a hand against her heart, where she always felt her end of their mate bond. “I could… feel that. I thought I was meant to be the naughty one?”

He grinned. “I was thinking about being very nice to you.”

“Oh?”

He pushed her sweater the rest of the way off and threw it aside, taking the opportunity to whisper in her ear and then to kiss his way down to her lips.

“How much I want you. How I want to make you feel good. And that I know exactly how to do it…” He kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry, while his hands undid her trousers and pushed them far enough down to cup her ass. She made a small gasp of pleasure. “I know what you want. Let me give it to you.”

“Me, first.”

She drew back, biting her lip in a way that stole all his attention.

“You first?” he repeated, a beat too late.

“Yes.” She pushed him down, both hands flat against his chest, until she had him where she wanted him and let them drift lower. She undid each button of his shirt, tousling the trail of red-gold hair that led down to the waistband of his pants. “Let me give you something, first.”

She pulled his cock out with gentle firmness, wrapping her fingers around him with possessive intent. Fireworks exploded at the back of his mind.

Abigail flicked her eyes up to meet his, dark and wicked behind her long lashes. “I did want you to relax for the holidays,” she said, mock-apologetic and unrepentant. “But I also wanted this.”

She lowered her mouth onto him, kissing the tip of his cock with a lazy deliberation that made his fingers curl into fists at his sides. She dipped her head to suck him in, and the tight heat of her lips and mouth made him black out briefly.

She knew him so well. Knew exactly the pressure and speed and slow, teasing licks…

“Oh god, ” he gasped, and she raised smiling eyes to meet his.

“You’ve been so busy, ” she complained innocently, licking open-mouthed from the base of his cock to the tip. “And I know I said I wanted to stop you to help you relax, but honestly?”

She licked down the other side, and he felt himself go glassy-eyed.

“It was about this , as well. I wanted us to have a happy Christmas… but I want you all to myself, too.”

She closed her eyes and took him in, humming contentedly.

Jasper had no words. Fire blazed through his veins as he watched his mate enjoying herself pleasuring him. He wanted her, too—but letting her take what she wanted from him, and give back pleasure tenfold?

The golden bond between them glowed, passion meeting and twining together with the love that had grown stronger each year they’d been together, and not for the first time Jasper wondered how the hell he got so lucky.

“I love you,” he gasped out, and Abigail looked up at him again.

“I’ve never doubted it.” She kissed his tip again. “Do you want to finish this way?”

Her eyes were full of promise, and she had his cock in her hands. It was a promise she knew how to keep.

And he would enjoy every moment of it.

“I told you what I want.” He sat and pulled her into his arms, kissing her and tasting himself on her lips.

“You want to make me feel good. Believe me, I feel very good.”

“And I can’t try to improve on that?”

He rolled on top of her, shedding his own clothes so there was nothing between them. She was warm, but he was a blazing fire; she’d taken possession of him, confident in her right to his pleasure, and now it was his turn. He was a dragon, and she was his greatest treasure.

He slipped one hand between her legs. She was hot and wet, and he gave her the heel of his hand to press against, soaking in her desire.

“Tease,” she grumbled, rolling her hips. Her breath dragged out in a ragged gasp as she found the pressure she loved.

“How am I the tease?”

“You know I want more than this.”

“Mmm,” he relented, moving against her. He slid the tip of his cock along her entrance, glorying in how wet she was. She moaned, and the sound tugged at his lust. He wanted more of that noise. He wanted every part of her.

And…

“I want to see you come first,” he whispered.

“Th-that won’t be a problem,” she reassured him, trapping laughter behind gritted teeth.

“Is that so?” He moved so she was settled against his length, slick and hot against his hard need. “Show me.”

She flung her head back with a sigh of mingled need and relief, one leg flung over his waist and the other braced against the mattress, holding his hips still as she ground herself against him. She was spectacular. Her breaths came faster, little whining gasps that made him thrust without thinking, and her eyes flew open as she came.

“Ahh-h!”

He swallowed her cry with a deep kiss, arranging himself at her entrance and thrusting in with one slick movement as her body still bucked and trembled with the force of her orgasm. He rode her through the aftershocks, lost in the sweet tight heat of her.

Need drove through him, and the tenor of Abigail’s moans changed as he sped up. She met him movement for movement, and when he finally spilled inside her she came again, too, and each gasp made his own pleasure burn brighter.

His mate. His wife. His partner through life. As they lay together afterwards, sweaty and satisfied; as they crept to the shower, washed and kissed and fooled around until they both tumbled into bed again, to sleep this time, one thought drifted contentedly through his mind.

Fate had found them for each other.

He looked at her, lying in his arms, already asleep. One hand curled across his chest, possessive even in sleep.

The mate bond pulsed quietly, a beat connecting their hearts and souls.

That was magic. But the rest of their life together? Fate had nothing to do with it. Their life, their happiness, was theirs to build.

Together.

Which was the greatest magic of all.

Christmas Day was everything it should be. A crisp pale sky hung above fresh, fluffy snow. Ruby woke with a shriek of delight and flung herself downstairs. Jasper grinned into his pillow as he mentally tracked her footsteps through the house until she skidded to a halt in front of the Christmas tree.

He tensed.

The Christmas tree. The presents—

He shot upright, and Abigail flung an arm around him and dragged him back into bed. “I put the presents out.”

“What? When?”

“Not sure. Sometime after I wore you out so thoroughly you slept like a Yule log all night?”

Abigail had the perfect bedhead and the perfect sleepy, smug smile and the perfect dancing happy eyes. He kissed her until something hit him in the head.

“Stop KISSING! It’s CHRISTMAS!” Ruby roared. “I got your STOCKINGS!”

Abigail rolled out from underneath him and caught her own stocking before it smacked her in the face. She adjusted the strap of her cami and Jasper was struck by a sudden, vivid memory of her slipping into it the night before. And out of it. When had she put it on again?

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart,” she laughed at Ruby as their daughter clambered onto the bed, so excited that scales shimmered on her cheekbones and forehead. There was no risk she would shift, though—not when she had her own Christmas stocking clutched safely in one hand. “And happy Christmas to you, my love,” she told Jasper. Their eyes met, and he felt like he was falling in love all over again. “What’s the plan for today?”

“For today? What day is it?” he asked, his forehead crumpling in a way he knew both the ladies in his life found equal parts adorable and unbelievably irritating.

“It’s CHRISTMAS DAY!” Ruby and Abigail replied in unison, Ruby shrieking with disbelief, Abigail dissolving into laughter.

“What? Already?” He raised his hands to defend himself from a pillow attack. “All right! I surrender! Happy Christmas!”

With her father properly put in his place, Ruby got on with the important business of doling out gifts from each of their stockings. Jasper and Abigail oohed and ahhed over the knick-knacks and random snacks they’d each hinted to the other that they would like, and gasped in genuine delight at the few secret gifts they’d each managed to sneak into the stocking haul.

“As for plans,” Jasper said, pulling Abigail close. “Let’s just say I suspect our friends have something up their sleeves.”

When the stockings had been scoured of all their secrets, they all headed downstairs. Jasper made waffles and Abigail fussed over coffee and hot chocolate while Ruby kept a watchful eye on the gifts under the Christmas tree, carefully selecting which ones she would ask to open before they put the rest in the car to take up to her aunt and uncle’s house.

Jasper’s heart melted as he watched her, and the heart-shaped ornament at the top of the tree sparkled in the early morning light coming in through the window. The first gift Abigail had ever given him. The heart of his Christmas hoard, and a reminder of everything they were to each other.

Christmas at Opal and Hank’s was an all-hands-on-deck affair. There was lunch, and presents, and afternoon tea, and presents, and a half-hearted attempt at a digestion-settling walk, and presents, and dinner, and music and games and a constant tide of friends and neighbors dropping by. Local shifters, his and Abigail’s best friends among them, often found their way to the Heartwell lodge for the privacy and freedom to shift into their animal forms, and Christmas was no different—except the hellhounds and other mythical animals were at risk of being decorated as festively as the Christmas tree if they tried to nap where the kids were playing, or put to work as portable bonfires for toasting marshmallows on.

Night had fallen and the real bonfire was burning merrily in the back courtyard when Abigail snuck up behind him and put her arms around him. “You win after all,” she said. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

“Every Christmas with you is the best Christmas ever,” he told her.

“Should I remind you of that when you start to go crazy next year?”

He pulled her around to hug her, resting his chin on top of her head. “Put it in the calendar.”

“Will do.”

“And I’ll put in my calendar, Remember the love of your life is going to start worrying about you freaking out about Christmas about now .” He kissed her. “And then—”

He paused, suddenly aware of a hushed whispering behind him. A moment later, the air erupted with cheers.

“Happy birthday!”

He turned, Abigail in his arms. All his friends and family gathered behind him, smiling hugely.

“Oh no,” he said jokingly.

“Oh yes ,” Opal announced with a mock-stern expression on her face. “You thought we were going to forget?”

“I—” He looked down at Abigail. “Were you in on this?”

“Did you think I was going to forget your birthday?”

“But… it’s Christmas…”

“And that isn’t the only thing worth celebrating.” She tucked her hand into his. “Are you ready for more presents? More songs? More cake?”

He gazed down at her. “More of everything,” he said.

There was one surprise left to come. After the surprise birthday party, even the most energetic of the kids were starting to have trouble keeping their eyes open—and some adults, too.

“We’ll come back in the morning to help tidy up, but I think it’s time we were going,” he told Opal.

“Good idea. We’ve got the spare room set up here for Ruby.”

“What?”

His sister raised her eyebrows at him. “Look. How long have I been your sister now?”

“Almost exactly my entire life, except for the week you lived in the tree-stump out back pretending you were a lost mermaid princess?”

“Never tell anyone about that. But yes. Your whole life. So don’t think I don’t see what’s going on here.” She sighed deeply, giving him the big-sisterly smile-scowl he knew and loved. “I mean, chances are I don’t . Obviously, the whole family curse thing plagued us our entire lives, and with the deadline being your birthday and your birthday being Christmas , that was weird and stressful, and I guess I never figured out how much of you being crazy over Christmas was legitimate and how much was a reaction to that—”

“Look, sis, I can think of better times to psychoanalyze me—”

“All right, all right. I’m just saying.”

“And I do love Christmas. Legitimately.”

“Good. And we love you. Legitimately. So, here’s your birthday present, little bro. From all of us. Yes, even whoever that is asleep on the porch.”

“The party?”

“Nope. This.” She thrust an envelope into his hands. “Now go and enjoy it.”

Abigail came up beside them. “What’s that?” she asked.

“The result of sisterly scheming,” Opal informed her. “None of this secretive rubbish. Just me straight up ordering my little brother to go on a mini break for his birthday.”

“That works ?” Abigail asked, mock-astonished. “Just telling him things?”

“Well?” Opal asked him.

A grin spread across Jasper’s face. “Yes,” he said. “It works.”