Merry Christopher by Violet Theron

Author:Violet Theron [Theron, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

Holly

I guess I have been holding onto this secret for so long that I just can’t hold it in anymore. It spills out of me until I tell Chris everything. The pain of losing my mother. The guilt of being an unwanted lovechild. The frustration of living with a woman who hated my existence. I have never unburdened like this to anyone before.

Chris is so sweet and patient as he listens quietly to my story. I am surprised when he tells me not to go. Family is so important to him I thought he would tell me to forgive my family and learn to love them. I am even more surprised when he kisses me. I have never thought he felt this way about me.

He almost crushes me with the force of his lips, as if he is urging me not to go with his tight embrace. He tastes like cardamom and sandalwood. Deep, masculine, and sexy. He inhales as I exhale and I inhale when he exhales. It is as if we are breathing as one. I don’t want it to stop.

Eventually, he lets me go and we stare at each other with our chests rising and falling rapidly. He grabs my hands and pulls them to his lips. He kisses every single one of my fingers with relish. “You’re the most beautiful and coolest girl I know,” he exclaims. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he croaks as he presses his forehead against mine while holding onto my hands. “I’m afraid, once you go back, you’ll never come back,” he says honestly.

His skin feels nice and warm to the touch. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He makes me feel secure and happy. Is this what home feels like? Is this what love is? I wonder. My memories of homes are just a series of places I have lived in. The only time I have ever found peace and comfort is in this town.

The answer rises to the surface without me even seeking it. I am staying here with him. I am not going anywhere.

I take Chris’s hands and lead him to the bed. His hands are warm and big and wrapped tightly around mine. I sit down and pull him toward me. We kiss again, each time more passionately. His hands roam all over my body with an urgency that I have never seen in him. He breathes me in as if I am oxygen to him. He bends down over my hands and flips my wrists over. I almost pull my hands out of his grip in surprise. Instead, he flips over my wrists and plants light kisses over the scars there. I was a really unhappy kid, and I used to cut myself so I wouldn’t feel so numb all the time. I am now ashamed of those scars.

As if reading my mind, he says in a husky voice, “You’re so beautiful. Every inch of you is gorgeous. The scars make you who you are.

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