Warmth in Ice (Find You in the Dark #2.5)(21)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

After my crazy cry-fest last night, we had decided to get out of the hotel for a while. We went and saw a showing of Ernest Saves Christmas at the dollar theater a few blocks away. We had eaten our weight in junk food and laughed like little kids the whole time.

Afterwards, Clay decided he wanted to go to the Sea World Christmas Celebration. I had wrinkled my nose at the idea but he was persistent. So we ended up paying for overpriced tickets and sitting through cheesy Christmas carols and fake snow falling into the stands.

It was completely over the top and so not my thing, but Clay seemed to be having a great time so I set aside my sarcasm and enjoyed it for what it was.

By the time the show was finished it was getting dark, so we went to get some dinner and then drove around looking at Christmas lights. We stopped to get some hot chocolate, which was a little unnecessary given that it was still eighty degrees at ten o’clock at night, but Clay was insistent.

He was boyishly embracing all things Christmas and I couldn’t remember a time I had seen him so excited and exuberant. By the time we got back to the room, we were exhausted.

Though not so exhausted that we were willing to waste the time we had together. We were frenzied and almost frantic as we removed each other’s clothing. We were a blur of tongues and teeth. Nails scraping, hands grasping.

Clay had laid me down on the bed and braced himself over me as he pressed his hips against mine. After the desperation we had experienced in getting ourselves to that point, it was with heart shattering tenderness that Clay pushed inside me, filling me completely.

We had made love with an aching gentleness that brought tears to both of our eyes. We stayed up most of the night, talking, touching, loving until we had fallen asleep exhausted yet deliriously happy.

“Please, Maggie. Wake up,” Clay nipped at my ear, tracing his tongue down the side of my neck, making me shiver. I rolled onto my back and looked up at my boyfriend, who was wearing a contagious grin.

He settled himself over top of me and softly kissed my temple, nuzzling my hair with his nose. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, his breath causing gooseflesh to break out over my skin.

“Merry Christmas,” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist, very aware of the fact that we hadn’t bothered to get dressed before passing out.

Without preamble, Clay sank inside me slowly and deliberately. I arched my back, groaning deep and low. As we started to move our bodies together, Clay whispered, “Best Christmas ever.”

I chuckled but then my laughter changed to moans as our movements became frenzied and rough.

When were sated, laying tangled up in each other, Clay’s hands drifting lazily up and down my naked back, my phone started to ring.

“That can only be my parents or Rachel. No one else has such impeccable timing,” I muttered, reaching over to the nightstand to grab my phone.

I pulled away from Clay so I could answer it. “Merry Christmas!” I said brightly into the phone.

“Merry Christmas, Maggie May!” my mom and dad replied in unison.

“Thanks,” I said, looking over at Clay who was lying on his side, his head cushioned by his arm, watching me with a peaceful smile on his lips. I couldn’t remember the last time he had looked so content and it made my heart stutter in my chest.

“We hope you have a wonderful day. We just wanted to tell you that we love you and miss you,” my mom said.

“I love you too,” I replied.

“Can we speak to Clay for a moment?” my father asked, taking me by surprise.

“Uh…” I started, not sure if this was such a great idea. Even though my parents had come around and were much more supportive of Clay and our relationship than they had been in the beginning, I was never entirely sure how their interactions were going to be.

“We’d just like to wish him a Merry Christmas,” my mother assured me. I handed the phone to Clay, who sat up and looked confused.

“They want to wish you a Merry Christmas,” I said, shrugging.

Clay took the phone and held it to his ear and I had to hold in my laughter. He looked petrified to talk to my parents. It probably had everything to do with the fact that he had to speak to them only moments after our morning sexathon.

I bit my lip and hid my smile.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Young.” Clay was silent for a moment and then his eyes slid to mine and he relaxed.

“Thank you so much. Merry Christmas to you too. I know. I’m a very lucky man. I will. I promise.” Clay hung up the phone and handed it back to me.

“You have some pretty great parents,” Clay said, reaching out for me and pulled me close. I snuggled into his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Come on, let’s open presents and then go out to get some breakfast,” Clay said, getting off the bed and going over to turn on the Christmas tree lights. He witched on the TV and found a station showing an endless loop of a burning Yule log while playing classic Christmas music.

Clay was like…well…a kid on Christmas. He sat cross-legged on the floor and I sank down beside him. I picked up the small gift to Clay from my parents and handed it to him. He read the tag and smiled before opening it.

“Damn,” Clay said pulling out a really nice wristwatch with black, leather straps and a trendy, modern face. I knew that particular brand cost over a hundred dollars. I was more than a little surprised that they had spent that much on him, though honestly, I shouldn’t have been. My parents were generous to a fault.

Clay opened the case and pulled it out, strapping it around his wrist. “This is too much. These things aren’t cheap,” he said, setting the time and admiring it on his arm.

“And you thought they didn’t like you,” I teased. Clay’s smile was shy but pleased. He reached under the tree and picked up the package he had sent to Virginia. He held it out for me to take, looking anxious.

I shook it but it didn’t make a sound. I made a show of weighing it in my hands. “Well, it’s not bigger than a bread box. It’s kind of heavy. What is it?” I asked giddily. Clay ran a hand through his dark hair and started to pick at the strap of his new watch, a sure sign he was feeling nervous.

I ripped off the paper and stared down at a thick cloth bound book. There was an engraving on a small plaque across the front that read, The Story of Us.

I looked up at Clay and he was gnawing on his bottom lip but his nervousness was being replaced by a look I recognized all too well. Total and complete love.

I opened the front page and saw a short dedication: