Mistletoe Magic Read online

  “Midnight?” She teases. “Don’t go the cliché route of losing a shoe for the guy to find you, all right? You’re a modern woman, act like it. Slip off your panties and stuff them in his pocket instead.”

  I bust out laughing, telling her, “You’re assuming I’ll have some on.” Which makes her crack up, both of us knowing we may talk a good game, but we aren’t the type to do that. My virginity being proof of that. It’s not as if no males have shown an interest in me, simply that I had none in any of them.

  “Seriously, though,” she adds after we get ourselves under control, “screw them, Junie.” She refuses to call me JJ as they do, and, as I don’t really care for my given name, Val prefers her nickname for me instead. “You have to stop living to please them because…”

  “It’s never going to happen,” I finish for her in resignation.

  “That,” she agrees, so much sadness for me in the one word, “and the fact you need to do so for yourself. Do what makes you happy, not others.”

  “If I get kicked out, you have to put up with me.”

  “Gladly,” she instantly replies. “You’ve talked about getting your own place for a while now, and we both know you can afford it without relying on them.” She has a point. I may not allow the stores or boutiques to carry my things, but those I’ve sold via word of mouth have made it so I’m dependent on no one but myself. And if there’s a part of me that still wishes I had a soulmate to share it with…that’ll be my little secret.

  Chapter Five

  Milo

  December 20th…

  Tomorrow is the party with who knows how many people attending and you’d think my parents would be running around handling last minute details, but they’re not. Dad is in the living room flipping through the channels while mom is sitting beside him reading a book, both completely relaxed. And it’s not as if they’re relying on everyone else to do it either, they just don’t care for all the frou-frou stuff. The decorations are beautiful in their simplicity and the food catered by local businesses to support our town.

  Heading to my studio, I work on two paintings for a showing my mom talked me into having at one of her friend’s galleries, my agreement coming only after I was assured I could remain anonymous. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my art, but it’s a part of me I prefer to keep private, even going so far as to sign each completed piece as LJ. With a little digging, it wouldn’t be hard to figure it out, my middle name, Langston – which is my mom’s maiden, and my last, but that’s only if the person searching connects me to them, something I find unlikely.

  Since the first time I added the image of the beautiful woman, she’s appeared in two more. None of those, however, will be in the inventory for the upcoming show. They are for my eyes only. I dream about her now, and wake reaching for her as if she were real, wishing she was. Yes, some are sexual, but they’re more than that. In them, we talk, laugh, cook meals together, and live. We have children and watch them grow up to have their own, and, if we’re lucky enough, are around to see them do the same.

  It’s probably not what other guys my age hope for, but it’s everything I want, and I want it with a woman I doubt exists. I guess it makes sense in my case, though, as I’ve always been old-fashioned compared to my peers.

  A couple hours later, my canvasses are drying, my tools are cleaned, and I’m in the kitchen scavenging for food when my parents stroll in.

  “Milo, just the son I wanted to see,” Mom states.

  “I’m the only one you have,” I remind her yet again, this being a long running joke between them and me.

  “Which is why I said what I did,” she responds, unperturbed. Laughing, I ask what’s going on. “I wanted to warn you,” Mom says ominously.

  “Should I just run now? Get a head start?”

  “I would,” Dad mutters, earning an elbow in the side, though there was no heat behind it, meaning she agreed with his assessment.

  “Anyway,” she continues, a grin crossing her face as she glances at my dad, as if waiting for another smartass, but apparently true, remark. He holds his hands up in surrender, then waves one in the air, telling her to go on. “The Pryors are coming and I wanted you to know…”

  “Their daughters are vipers,” Dad interjects. “What?” He asks when Mom turns to him. “They are.”

  She just huffs, then nods at his description. “I was thinking more like barracudas, but that works, too. Keep your eyes out for them and head the other direction if you see them coming your way. You know how I feel about gossip, so I won’t share any of what’s being said about them, but I also don’t want them near you.”

  “Let’s just say their mother is all about making the “right” connections for those two, if you get my drift. And the Jenner heir…” he shrugs, not needing to say the rest.

  “I’ll simply stick to my plan then.”

  “Do I want to know?” Mom responds.

  “Avoid all the single women to protect my virtue.” And on that note, with my parents cracking up, I grab the plate I’d made and walk out.

  Chapter Six

  Juniper

  December 21st…

  “You sure this looks…?”

  “Gorgeous,” Val states through video chat. We’re getting ready at our respective houses, but doing so this way so we can share the experience as much as possible.

  My dress is party appropriate without being too much. I’d gone with burgundy, loving the contrast of it against my black hair and violet eyes, and used lace for the material with the same color in cotton from the neck to mid-thigh to keep my bits covered, then used the lace on its own for the rest with the skirt ending above my knees in front and skimming my ankles in back where my shoes, a pair of heeled sandals with clear crisscross straps, buckled.

  Val’s royal blue satin knee length with a v-neck and applique lace are eye-stopping on her, and the silver stilettos she’d chosen complete the look. “That’s the description I was going to use for you,” I tell her sincerely, knowing she’ll believe me, even if neither of us are confident in our appearances. For me, it’s continually being made to feel less than by the laurels and my own mother, my father not man enough to go against them. For Val, her mom’s family disowned them when she fell in love with someone they didn’t approve of and had his child, Phillip, then went on to have two more, Valentina and Jackson. Sad to say, even as recent as twenty-five years ago, it was merely the color of his skin that caused the rift. Helena, her mom, chose love over them and has never once regretted it. Charles, her dad, is a big teddy bear who would do anything for his wife and children, and I feel blessed that I’m lucky enough to be considered one of them in his eyes and heart, Helena’s, too, for that matter, as well as Val’s brothers. Heaven knows they’ve always treated me better than my own relatives.

  Hearing car doors, I peek out my window to discover my parents and sisters getting inside my father’s, and I swear I can hear their laughter from here. Earlier, I’d been told the staff had been given the day off, not out of the kindness of my mother’s heart but to punish me as she’d informed me I’d need to take over their usual duties in regards to cleaning. Yes, my life does have some similarities to that princess, the only differences being there’s no fairy godmother nor man to whisk me away to a better life and I’m genetically linked to the people behind my mistreatment. “The coast is clear. I repeat, the evil ones have left the building. Rendezvous in oh…about twenty minutes,” I say, as that’s roughly how long it’ll take her to get here.

  “You’re a nut, but I love ya’,” she responds, giggling.

  “Like recognizes like, woman. And don’t you dare stick your tongue out at me.”

  “How did you know? You weren’t even looking at the phone.”

  “Because it’s what I would do,” I admit, knowing that says it all.

  “You aren’t wrong…” she confesses.

  “I knew it,” I shout smugly, though she puts a stop to that when she finishes her sentence.

/>   “It is something you would do.”

  “Why do I put up with you again?”

  “I’m your person.” There is that. Less than an hour later, we’re pulling up to a large yet somehow welcoming residence with a plethora of vehicles, people streaming in but none coming out. A glance at my watch tells me the party is in full-swing, and has been for some time. Val must be thinking the same as she looks at her own, then at me. “Maybe it’s like Hotel California. Once you check in…” she half-teases, making me smile. “Are you nervous?” She asks, switching gears at warp speed like usual.

  “Not at all,” I answer, surprising myself, and Val, apparently. I can’t blame her for that because I am not good with strangers, ironic considering my chosen field has me interacting with them regularly. Is that why I haven’t taken the final step to start my own business? That’s a thought for another day, one when I’m wondering what I’m doing with my life and why I’m letting others dictate my path.

  Our eyes wander over everything, taking in the tasteful decorations and homey feel, so much so I’m no longer surprised we didn’t see any of the guests leaving when we’d arrived. None of them want to. Heck, I’ve been here all of twenty-five minutes and I don’t want to either.

  Having never met Mr. and Mrs. Jenner, I’d taken the liberty of Googling them in order to know who to seek out to thank for the invitation, even if my parents didn’t intend for me to come. Speaking of, just as I see the wife, her gaze sweeps me from head to toe, taking in the entirety of my ensemble and, if the smile on her face is any indication, approving of it.

  “Stunning,” she says once she’s standing in front of me. Assuming she’s talking about my dress, I thank her as my hand smooths down the skirt. “Oh no, dear, I wasn’t referring to your gown, though it truly is beautiful. You are a vision.” She’s watching me with this secret smile I have no hopes of deciphering, but it’s not in a mean way like my sisters use.

  “Honey, you’re embarrassing her,” a man, obviously her husband, tells her as he joins us and grabs her hand, holding it as if he can’t bear not touching her a second longer.

  “It’s fine,” I assure her, though I can feel my cheeks heating. Val is on my right, smirking because she knows I’m literally lying through my teeth. They introduce themselves and Val and I do the same, their brows simultaneously rising when I give them my last name.

  “Your family is around here somewhere,” Mr. Jenner informs me to which I say I’ll seek them out in a few minutes. Another lie.

  Mrs. Jenner, or Natalie as she tells me to call her, is asking about my dress, wondering where I got it. When she learns I made it, she wants to know if we can talk later. I’m not sure why, but I agree, enjoying speaking with someone that seems genuinely interested. When she and Josiah, as he urged me to refer to him, are summoned, Val and I thank them once again, then continue walking around. As we turn a corner, my parents do the same at the other end of the room and Val and I both spin on our feet, hers taking her one direction, mine to the first doorway I come across. I can’t help but laugh when I realize it’s a library, thinking it ironic I’d find myself surrounded by books, my love for reading second only to designing.

  The atmosphere is charged, but it’s not uncomfortable. Instead I find I’m drawn to it, wanting to find the source. A gasp leaves me when I discover there’s someone in the corner, staring out the window.

  “Plotting your escape?” I joke, unable to believe I’m doing so. I can’t make out anything other than the shape of a person in the shadows, unsure if they’re male or female.

  **Milo**

  “Not anymore,” I reply as she comes closer and the flames from the fireplace flicker over her, allowing me to make out black hair. She seems so familiar, yet I know we’ve never met before. She’s unforgettable, and when I step forward, my dick that’s not once acted as if women existed springs to life, literally. “It’s you,” I whisper, my hand trembling a bit as it raises to touch the hair of my dream come to life. Instead of side-stepping my fingers as they slide through the strands, she leans into it, and when I caress her cheek, she nuzzles my palm, sealing her fate. I know nothing about her other than she’s meant to be mine. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “JJ,” she answers, though something in her tone says she doesn’t like it. Shaking my head, I truthfully inform her it doesn’t fit.

  “Try again,” I gently scold her.

  “Juniper.” Then she smiles, though it doesn’t seem genuine, stating, “It’s weird, I know.”

  “It’s unique and beautiful, like you.” When I ask how she got it, she laughs, telling me I won’t believe her. “Try me,” I reply, meaning it in other ways, too.

  “From what I’ve been told, my mother told the nurse it was to be Jennifer, but the woman misunderstood and,” she shrugs, and I can fill in the rest.

  “She put Juniper. Why didn’t they ask for it to be corrected?” Her eyes, so striking, dull a bit, and I instantly regret my question, wishing more than anything for the ability to go back in time and think before speaking. Needing to return to the lighthearted banter we’d been sharing, I change the subject, taking the chance she’ll let me do something I’ve wanted to since she walked in. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  Her breathing quickens and her tongue peeks out from between her plump lips, and I swear I can feel it on my own, our connection that strong. “Why?”

  “Because I feel like I’ll die if I don’t,” I say, completely honest. When she nods, stepping closer, her breasts brush my chest and, unable to take even the slightest space separating us, I pull her flush against me, knowing in that instant I’m holding my future in my arms. As our mouths come together, our breaths mingling, this growl rumbles from deep within and I walk forward until she hits one of the walls. Using the grip I now have on her ass, I bend a bit at the knees, then rise, loving that she instinctively encircles my hips with her legs, spreading herself open at the same time. “Move your dress for me,” I command, needing to see her center. She moans, and I suddenly want to hear my name leave her lips first. “Milo,” I tell her. As if she needs to say it just as desperately, she does, our gazes locked on one another, and it frees the beast that was waiting solely for her. “Push your panties to the side. Let me see what I’m about to claim.”

  “Yes, it’s yours,” she agrees.

  “Hold on, baby,” I warn her. “I’m going to need my hands for what comes next.” And when she does, situating herself so she’s secure, I cup her head and worship her mouth, thrusting my tongue inside and licking up her taste. Letting one hand drop, I feel my way to my destination, grazing her breast, taking a second to flick my thumb over her nipple, then her belly, already visualizing it swelling with my child, and sliding under the lace of her panties and finding her wet with her need for me.

  “Don’t stop,” she pleads before resuming our kiss.

  “Never,” I promise. Losing my mind when I feel her hands fumbling with my pants, I bite down just a tad on her bottom lip as my middle finger shoves into her apex, her walls tightening around it so much it halts my progress.

  Knowing I need to prepare her to take my much bigger and thicker cock, I work it in and out, each pass sending me a little deeper until it’s seated as far as it can go. Then I mentally admit the rest may have to wait for round two because she’s freed me from my boxer briefs and is fisting the head as her thumb rubs over the tip.

  “I need this in me,” she demands. Telling her I do, too, I reluctantly take my finger from her and make sure she knows what this means for us.

  “We do this, you’re mine,” I inform her. “You’re moving in with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “And you’re marrying me.”

  “Since you didn’t ask, I’m thinking that’s non-negotiable,” she says with a wink, letting me know she doesn’t have a problem with that.

  “Damn straight.”

  “I’ve, uh, never done this before,” she waves her hand to indicate us.
/>
  “Any of this?” I question her, needing the clarification.

  “None.”

  “Fuck,” I exhale, unintentionally making her self-conscious.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Only because I’m about to come.” When she looks confused, I explain, “The fact we’ll only ever know each other in all ways…” She must see the truth in my eyes, because next thing I know, my dick is engulfed in warmth and her heels are digging into my ass as she pushes me further inside. When I bump against her barrier, I open my mouth to apologize for the fact I’m about to hurt her, but she tells me not to, says the pain is the price of becoming mine.

  Breaking through it, swallowing her reaction, I begin pounding into her, my right hand cupping the back of her head, not wanting it to hit the wall.

  “Harder,” she begs. Releasing her head, I now use both hands to squeeze her hips and lift her up, letting gravity drop her on my dick. I swear I’m hitting her womb.

  “Tell me you want this. That you want me to come in you. That you’ll accept every drop of seed I have and use it to create our first son or daughter.” She flutters around me, telling me she wants it all. “Give me the words, Juniper.”

  “I want you. I want to feel your warmth coat my walls. I want to carry your children.” Then she whispers in my ear, “I want to be your wife.” And that’s it. Five words have me shooting my load inside her. It seems never ending, as if it’s just been waiting for her all these years. “If that doesn’t make you a daddy…” And, unbelievably, I harden that quick and take her again and again, not setting her back on her feet until my come is streaming down her thighs.

  “That belongs in you,” I remind her as I tuck my cock back in my pants, finding it hard to control it when she swipes it up with her fingers and sucks them clean. “What do we taste like?”