12 Days of UPS by Eli Easton
December 10
"Another package for you today. Someone must love you." Surprised, I met Hunky UPS Guy's eyes. With his black mask in place, his eyes were about all I could see--well, aside from his dark chestnut brown hair which was cut short and was thick enough to make me, with my own wispy hair, envious.
This being December, I was unable to admire the tan forearms, impressive biceps, and muscular calves on Hunky UPS Guy. They'd been nice eye candy during the summer, making the brown UPS truck an even more welcome sight in the neighborhood than usual.
Naturally, in the summer, I'd hardly received any packages at all. Now that the delivery guy was covered up like a maiden aunt from California visiting relatives in Alaska, I was swimming in them.
In packages. Not maiden aunts.
"Uh... yeah. Someone's playing a joke on me, I think," I said, taking the package.
"Playing a joke?" His dark eyebrows raised curiously.
I was certain Hunky UPS Guy didn't really care about what was in my packages. Or my package, unfortunately. But I'd apparently started a conversation, as out of practice at it as I was.
"Yes. The packages I've been getting every day--someone's sending me anonymous gifts."
"Huh. No idea who they're from?"
"I haven't the foggiest." I chuckled awkwardly. "Whoever they are, they're persistent. I'll give them that."
I'd mentally run through the likely senders of my mysterious packages, to no avail. I thought my mom and dad might be feeling sorry for me, being home alone this year for the holidays. But when I'd called to ask, Mom swore it wasn't them. My sister Ally was in grad school and had neither the money nor the temperament for such games. My friends in Seattle? Most of them were still miffed that I'd moved across Puget Sound and left the old neighborhood, and they were busy with their own little dramas. My ex-boyfriend James? It was possible. Perhaps he wanted to get back together. But James had never had a romantic bone in his body. It was hard to imagine him sending anonymous gifts, or that he was eager to win me back given how cold he'd been when he dumped me.
"Maybe you have a secret admirer," Hunky UPS guy suggested. His tone was serious even though the suggestion was ridiculous.
"Well, I wish I had suitors beating down my door but, alas, no."
"I dunno. You're new in the neighborhood, Maybe you've caught someone's eye." Hunky UPS Guy's own chocolate brown eyes twinkled. "You have a good day now."
I was too perplexed to respond as he walked back to his truck. I was not, however, too perplexed to watch him go. His firm ass could still be admired in his brown uniform pants, even in the winter. My, he wore them tight. When he was seated in his truck, he glanced back at me. I stupidly waved, trying to cover up the fact that I'd been checking him out.
Nice going, Paul. You letch.
I took today's package inside, stripped off my mask, and hung it on a hook by the door, conveniently placed for deliveries. I decided to ignore my work for another five minutes to satisfy my curiosity. I cut the box open. Inside was a blu ray of Bird with the Crystal Plumage.
Interesting. I loved old giallo movies. Who would know that about me? It had to be family and friends. I didn't think I'd ever mentioned it in an interview.
Next, I looked over the packaging carefully. As with the previous gifts, the package was from Amazon with UPS delivery selected and the sender listed as "Anonymous." There was no message.
This was the fourth one I'd received, and it seemed just as random as all the rest. But was there a pattern? I fetched the other three gifts--or what was left of them--and placed them on the table.
The first one had been a box of fancy pears.
The second a case of Hershey Dove bars.
The third was a set of three blue and white potholders in a French design with chickens on them.
And today's-- the Bird with the Crystal Plumage blu ray.
Today's blu ray was the first that indicated any personal knowledge of my tastes. Everyone liked pears and chocolates. And the potholders would make a suitable hostess gift for a total stranger.
I felt like I was missing something.
I took a photo and put it on my Facebook page. Someone is anonymously sending me gifts. Kind of driving me bonkers. Anyone have any clue as to who's doing this? Or a way I can find out?
The hive mind did not disappoint. Within minutes, several people pointed out what I'd failed to see.
A partridge in a pear tree.
Two turtle doves.
Three French hens.
Four calling birds.
The gifts were referencing the Twelve Days of Christmas.
I grinned when I saw the connection, delighted. Very clever! The gifts weren't expensive in and of themselves, but someone was going to a fair amount of trouble to think these up and get them delivered. Going to all that trouble--for me. But who?
Christmas Perfect by Helena Stone
Chapter 1
Cameron
“Are you ever coming to bed?” Eli stood in the doorway to Cameron’s study, leaving him struggling to conceal the object on his desk from view.
“In a moment. I just want to finish this.” Cameron kept his reply vague on purpose.
Eli shook his head. “I know you tend to forget the passing of time when you hit your flow while writing, but it will be Christmas in twenty minutes. Surely it’s time to give it a rest?”
Guilt stabbed at Cameron. Eli was right. Locking himself away in his writing room on Christmas Eve was bad form. But it was not as if Cameron had had a choice in the matter. He was lucky his plans had come together in time for Christmas. It had been such a close call. It would be easier if he could tell Eli what was going on, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. Otherwise, he would spoil the surprise, and it would all have been for nothing.
“You go ahead,” Cameron said while continuing to hide what he was doing. If Eli had been a few minutes later, at least it would have been wrapped. “I’ll join you in a few minutes. Promise.” He mentally crossed his fingers that Eli wouldn’t come to him for a kiss.
“It’d better be a few minutes only,” Eli mock threatened. “If you’re not there at midnight, I’ll come and drag you to bed.” He chuckled. “On second thoughts, that sounds like a great idea.”
“Go!” Cameron growled. “The quicker you leave me alone, the sooner I’ll be done and in bed with you.”
“Okay. Okay.” Eli stepped back. “Just don’t make me wait.”
As soon as Eli was gone, Cameron jumped into action. He glanced at his present for Eli one last time before folding the green wrapping paper with gold stars around it and applying Sellotape. Not for the first time, nerves swirled in his belly. Would Eli like it? Was it too much? Too sentimental?
Cameron grabbed the present and stood. It was beyond too late for those questions. As Eli had just pointed out, they were only minutes away from the start of Christmas. He had run out of time to come up with better gift ideas. What he had would have to do. Surely, he’ll like it.
He made his way from his study to the living room, where the lights were off, but the Christmas tree was still lit. He stared at the collection of gifts beneath the branches. Most of them had been there for a few days. Both he and Eli had occasionally and not quite inconspicuously dropped one or two wrapped items there. One of the packages he had never seen before, though. At about a metre high and more than half as wide, it was huge and unmissable.
Much to his surprise, Cameron’s fingers itched to loosen the paper and have a peek at what it hid. Because he knew how much he would hate it if Eli found out what Cameron’s gift was before tomorrow morning, he told his curiosity to shut up. He walked to the tree, placed his own present next to the mystery gift, turned off the fairy lights, and left the room. In about eight hours, his curiosity would be satisfied, both about Eli’s present for him and about Eli’s reaction to what Cameron gave him.
You’re an adult, for crying out loud. Surely you can wait.
Cameron amazed himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been excited about Christmas. Probably around the time he’d discovered there was no such thing as Father Christmas. Sharing his life with Eli had revealed sides of Cameron he hadn’t known existed. He chuckled softly as he climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Eli and continued smiling when he walked in.
“And he made it with exactly seven minutes to spare.” Eli smirked at Cameron. “It’s a shame, really. I was starting to look forward to the prospect of manhandling you into our bed.”
“Were you now?” Cameron returned Eli’s smirk. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” He took a step back. “I can leave for another seven minutes if you want.”
“Don’t you dare.” Eli threw the bedding away and shot off the bed so fast Cameron didn’t have an opportunity to fully appreciate his very beautiful and very naked body before it crashed into his. It was all Cameron could do to keep his balance, and a heartbeat later, Eli’s arms were around Cameron’s neck, Eli’s legs around his waist, and Eli’s mouth on his.
Still swaying a little from the onslaught, Cameron indulged in Eli’s taste. If this was what Eli was like if Cameron kept him waiting, maybe he should do so more often.
“Too many clothes,” Eli muttered without moving his mouth away from Cameron’s.
Cameron chuckled. “I can’t hold you and strip at the same time.”
“Spoilsport.” Eli mock glared at Cameron as he dropped to the floor and took a tiny step back before removing Cameron’s glasses and placing them on the bedside table with care. The moment he faced Cameron again, Eli pulled Cameron’s jumper over his head.
Cameron got the message and rushed to divest himself of the rest of his clothes, as impatient as Eli was for that skin-to-skin contact. As soon as he was naked, Cameron grabbed Eli around the waist, tackled him to the bed, and pinned Eli beneath him.
“Is this what you had in mind?”
“Hmmmm.” Eli’s smug smile reminded Cameron of the proverbial cat that got the cream.
Cameron rocked his hips, and their cocks brushed. Eli shuddered, and any hint of smugness disappeared from his gaze to be replaced by heat.
“Let’s start our Christmas with a good fuck.” Eli reached up and cupped Cameron’s cheek. “Hard and dirty.” Eli wrapped his legs around Cameron’s waist and tightened his grip until their groins connected and their dicks lined up next to each other.
“Fuck, yes!” Cameron moved his body, and the resulting friction sent electric shocks through his veins. Half a year after they got back together, their hunger for each other hadn’t lessened. If anything, it was deeper now. It didn’t take much to set them off, and they’d discovered their needs matched up close to perfectly.
Cameron continued to rock, and Eli moved with them. Pre-cum made the contact slick, more sensuous, and their breathing grew harsh. They stroked each other and scratched. Kissed, nibbled, and licked. Cameron’s skin was alive, and his heart soared.
“Want you.” It sounded like both a plea and a demand.
“Yes.” Cameron reached for the bedside table and felt around until he connected with the small container. “Got ya.” Moments later, he sank two fingers into Eli’s heat, forcing a groan from Eli’s lips.
“Too much?” Cameron asked, not really worried.
“Fuck, no.” Eli bucked his hips. “Give me more.”
“Your wish…” Cameron added a finger and moved his hand back and forth.
“Good.” Eli’s eyes had lost most of their blueness and were almost black. “Not enough. I need you.”
Cameron didn’t need to be told twice. He sat back and moved a lube-slicked hand up and down his rock-hard cock while Eli’s heated gaze followed the motion.
“Want this?”
“Now,” Eli growled. He grabbed his knees and pulled up his legs.
Eli’s hole was just there, in Cameron’s line of vision, ready and waiting. He took a moment to enjoy the view.Then he shuffled closer on his knees and stroked the head of his dick over Eli’s hole and perineum.
“Now!” Eli’s voice held a trace of desperation, and Cameron took pity on him.
Sliding into Eli was like coming home. As if this was where Cameron belonged. When he bottomed out, he claimed Eli’s lips in a ferocious kiss.
At first, Cameron kept the pace leisurely, wanting to postpone their climax, but he fought a losing battle. Either Eli hadn’t received the memo about taking it easy, or he’d decided against the idea. Eli’s movements as he fell into rhythm with Cameron were forceful and harsh.
“Cam. Please.” Eli fisted his hands in Cameron’s hair and pulled him into a kiss.
Cameron’s resolve died, and passion took over. He broke the kiss, placed his arms on the bed on either side of Eli, and pushed himself up. The angle meant he could plough into Eli harder and faster and had the added bonus of…
“Fuck! Yes! Right there!” Eli’s arse left the bed as he chased Cameron’s cock while he withdrew before pushing into Eli again.
“So good.” As so often before, Cameron lost himself in Eli. He closed his eyes and surrendered to his feelings as his heart, his soul, and his body gave his all to Eli.
It wasn’t much longer before Eli grabbed his cock, tugged a few times, and with a roar, tensed.
Cameron forced his eyes open. Few things were as beautiful as Eli at the height of his orgasm, and Cameron drank in the sight. It was the extra nudge he needed, and moments after Eli, Cameron came too.
It wasn’t until after he’d used a towel to give both of them a wipe and he dropped to the bed beside Eli that the thought hit Cameron…again. If only he could find the words to describe what Eli looked like when they made love, but in this case, his vocabulary failed him miserably.
“Merry Christmas.” Eli pressed his lips against Cameron’s cheek.
“Merry Christmas.” Cameron turned his head fast enough that his answering kiss landed on Eli’s lips. He pulled Eli close until his head rested on Cameron’s shoulder. “Further celebrations can wait until tomorrow.”
“Busy day,” Eli murmured, and Cameron could hear he was already half-asleep.
“That’s Christmas for you.” Cameron wasn’t sure Eli had heard him. Which was probably just as well. Christmas was supposed to be about family, so it made sense they’d spend the day with Eli’s parents.
Cameron didn’t need Eli to know that he’d selfishly rather stay at home for a celebration just for two.
Felix by RJ Scott & Meredith Russell
“So what is it you wanted to talk about?” He clasped his hands together.
Jared shrugged. “It’s nothing much. It’s just a small, tiny favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Like I said. Small.” He held up his hand, his index finger and thumb close to each other. “The thing is”—This is going to be something I don’t like, isn’t it?—“Ethan is going to his school reunion next week.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh?”
“I am,” Ethan stated. “With a plus-one.”
Am I supposed to care? He vaguely remembered Jared telling tales of his roommate’s numerous boyfriends and the ridiculous antics he got up to. Felix’s favorite story ended with a purple-dyed police officer. He didn’t know who Ethan was dating now, but good for him if it was going well.
“And you’re telling me this because?”
“Well…” Ethan bit his lower lip, rolling his eyes upward as he seemed to process his words before speaking. There was something more sexy than cute about the way he tugged on his soft pink lips with his teeth.
He should stop doing that—he’ll end up bruising them, and they’re too pretty to be bruised.
Unless it’s me kissing them and… the fuck?
“The thing is Ethan’s plus-one kind of did him dirty.” Jared answered for him. “Ethan got dumped. Again,” he added straight-faced.
“I dumped him,” Ethan said in a strained voice.
Jared met Felix’s eyes and shook his head. “He didn’t,” he mouthed.
Felix snorted a laugh, but his smile faded as the favor Jared had in mind hit him front and center. “No,” he said.
“I’ve said nothing,” Jared said, blinking with all the innocence he could muster.
Felix ran his hand back through his bangs. “I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is no.” He leaned back, side-eyeing Ethan. “Why don’t you ask Caleb? He’ll take anything you can throw at him.”
“Well, of course I tried him first, but he’s already booked. But we all know you’re the best person for the job, and you owe me one.”
Sending Love by Riza Curtis
Chapter One
Spencer
The persistent beeping of the ‘Oh shit’ alarm seeped into Spencer’s brain, until it finally grabbed his attention, dragging him out of the depths of his laptop. It took another few seconds for him to locate his phone from where it had been shoved underneath the pile of notes that threatened to take over his desk and silence the infernal noise. The ‘Oh shit’ alarm was never good news, but he let out a stream of creatively violent curses when he saw the time.
Late again.
Spencer hit ctrl-S on the document, unwilling to trust the auto-save with his precious work, before shoving the laptop closed. He would turn it off properly later, when he wasn’t running late for a date.
He staggered through the flat, towards the front door, running his hands through his hair as if that would make up for running out of time to brush it. Shoving his shoes on, he pulled his key off the hook beside the doorframe before realising he’d forgotten his phone. There was no way he was going to be able to convince Marcus that he’d been ready on time now.
Retracing his steps, Spencer found his mobile in his office, where he’d abandoned it after switching the alarm off. He racked his brain for anything else he might have forgotten. Phone, keys... wallet. The rattle of a key in the lock told him that his time was up though. He began the walk back through the open plan kitchen and living area towards the entrance.
“Hello, you,” he called, a rueful smile plastered on his face.
“Evening,” Marcus, Spencer’s partner, greeted him. “Not quite ready?” The innocent tone he’d put on was ruined by a barely disguised chuckle.
Spencer scowled playfully, unable to argue his case. Even after six months together, just Marcus’s presence brought a smile to his face.
“Obviously not,” he grumbled, knowing that his sheepish expression said it all.
Marcus laughed, not bothering to hide his amusement. Rather than stepping over the junk mail accumulating on the doormat, as Spencer had for the past couple of days, he gathered it up and carried it in.
Shaking his head, Spencer sighed dolefully. “You shame me.”
“You are utterly shameless, Spence.” Marcus teased, rolling his eyes. He moved closer, trapping Spencer against the side with a grin. “It’s a good job I actually made our reservations for seven.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped and he gaped. “You–”
“Let’s meet at six, and get dinner at half six,” Marcus mimicked Spencer’s accent badly, raising his eyebrow as if to challenge Spencer to argue. Spencer silenced any further mockery by kissing Marcus. Gods, Spencer was so lucky to have Marcus in his life.
Reluctantly, they separated after a moment.
“I’m just popping to the loo,” Marcus said, taking a step back. “Then we’ll go.”
Deciding to do something useful in the minute or so Marcus would be gone, Spencer started to sort through the junk mail. Amongst the brightly coloured adverts, a faded postcard caught his eye. He dumped the rest into the recycling bin and studied the picture.
It was a traditional snowy Christmas scene. Quaint houses with thatched roofs made up the background. He could have sworn the village looked vaguely familiar but it was probably just that all English villages looked the same depicted in miniature.
The focal point of the image was a couple holding hands as they walked home. It wasn’t a sad image but it tugged at Spencer’s heartstrings in a way that he couldn’t understand.
He turned it over.
Dear Timothy
That wasn’t right. Neither was the neatly penned address on the right hand side. It wasn’t anything like the address for his apartment.
17 Rosemary Way
Podlington
Spencer flipped the card back over briefly to study the village in the artwork. That was why it had seemed familiar. It was an image of Podlington. He could just make out the Miracle of Magic pub in the distance.
How the hell had a postcard from Podlington ended up in a flat over a hundred miles away?
“What you got there?”
Spencer jumped at the sound, putting the postcard down. Oops, he was supposed to be getting ready to leave.
“It’s a postcard, misdelivered here.”
Marcus picked it up, glancing at the handwritten text before letting out a low whistle. “Never mind wrong place, wrong year!”
The date hadn’t caught Spencer’s attention before–1957.
“I know they say the postal service has been going downhill but taking more than sixty years to deliver a letter?” he joked.
“And to the wrong address!” Marcus added, putting it back on the side. “Anyway, come on you, or we really will be late for our reservation.”
Santas R' Us by Clare London
I stood on the well-polished steps of the four-storey house for a couple of long moments, trying to plan my opening lines. Swaying my hips a bit; humming the opening bars of Hot Stuff. Then I noticed a cat sitting in the living room window next door, still as a statue, its gaze fixed on me with either feline amazement or disgust. So, I stopped rehearsing, tugged my tunic down more firmly and rang the bell.
When the door was abruptly thrown open, even before the chimes had finished, I nearly fell back down the steps in surprise.
“Thank God you’re here!” cried a young man. He was shorter than me, slimmer, with a shock of dark hair, and very pretty eyes. Dressed in tight white jeans and a bright blue polo shirt—have to say, the combo really suited him—and… yes… flour across his nose and cheeks.
“Come in! Come in,” he cried, turning and darting ahead of me into the house. He had flour on the back of his shirt, too. Maybe even on his arse—oh, and what a really lovely arse—but I couldn’t see clearly on the white denim, and I didn’t want to stare like a perv.
Huh. I’d got a few enthusiastic responses in my time, but mainly from over-excited kids in the mall with sticky hands and exhausted parents, so this was unusual. I took my time wiping my boots at the door.
“You’re earlier than I expected,” came his cheery voice from somewhere farther up the hall. His head popped around an open doorway at the end and he beckoned to me. “Come into the kitchen, will you? You can bring all the stuff here.”
Stuff? That would just be… me?
