Pia is a dirty girl, but she knows you're naughty too. Tongue in cheek, and everywhere else, Pia spends her time running nowhere, avoiding housework, and randomly quoting Placebo lyrics. Now that others are reading her stories, her husband no longer wonders about her obsession with gay men falling in love.
Here is what Pia is sharing with us today!!!
I'm not much for introductions, but this scene deserves one. This was originally written for Man Whore but that series took a sharp turn and this scene had to be cut. Enjoy this sneak peek of Adam and Morgan celebrating Christmas with Adam's family.
“They love you,” Adam said. He'd dragged me out back while his family served up a Christmas dinner to feed a family three times as large.
“I don’t know why.” During Grace, I looked on like a deer in headlights, trying to remember each and every name of the dozen relatives around the table. At least no one complained that I didn’t fold my hands and say Amen.
“You’re adorable and you make me happy. Why shouldn’t they?”
I shrugged and stared out across the backyard. A swing set collected a dusting of fluffy white flakes and all I could think of was how I hoped we didn’t get snowed in tomorrow. I had no family moments, so this
“Morgan?” He touched my arm. As I turned to face him, he held out a small box. “Merry Christmas.”
I nearly snapped at him. We’d agreed. No gifts. No nothing, and here I was holding a little fuzzy black box with a big red bow, while a fancy-pants dinner waited on the table.
“Open it,” he said. He grinned as wide as his nephew, Ethan, when the four-year old dragged me to the living room to show off the tree he helped decorate.
The hinged creaked as I opened it. In the light spilling from the kitchen window, a silver ring perched on a lining of velvet. Along its wide band, Celtic knotwork twisted and turned in a never-ending loop.
“I’ve never known another man like you, Morgan,” Adam whispered. “I had to do something special. I couldn’t skip Christmas.”
I stared at the ring for several moments before the meaning of his words sunk in. I snapped the box shut and shoved it at him. It fell to the porch, bouncing into the shadows. “Uh-uh, no way. Damn it, Adam. We’re just supposed to be having fun.”
Spinning around, I stopped at the door. I didn’t want to stomp through the house, past his family. I turned and darted into the yard, stopping in the far corner to sit on the cold but lonely swing.
When the panic subsided, I was alone.
They sent Ethan out after me. Low. I couldn’t tell a four-year old to buzz off.
“Come on, Morgan,” he said tugging my hand. “You’re missing dinner.”
“I’m not hungry." I wasn't. I'd worked myself up in the short time they left me outside, and now I was ready to either puke, or drink myself silly.
Ethan put his mittened fists on his hips. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “Your Uncle Adam and I had a fight.”
“Oooh,” he said in that sagely little kid tone. “You should say you’re sorry.”
I really should. It scared me, but I felt the same as Adam. I’d never met another man like him and I didn’t want to try to find one. I wouldn’t have come all this way, met the family-- behave -- for any other person. Ever.
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.
Ethan nodded and his eyes lit up. His cheeks were turning pink with the chill of the evening. I shivered. At least the kid had been smart enough to put on a coat. I stood and he took my hand, leading me back to the house.
When I stopped on the porch and squatted down to his level, he smiled again.
“What’s the secret?” he asked in a perfect little kid conspiracy whisper that anyone that happened to be in the kitchen could’ve heard.
I picked up the gift box and peeked in. The ring had not fallen out. I breathed a thank you to no one in particular and handed him the box.
“Uncle Adam tried to give me my gift early."
“That’s not fair!” He frowned at the box and then glared at me. “No one gets to open a present until everyone is done with dinner. That’s the rule.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Perfect. I handed him the box. "Give it back to Uncle Adam. Tell him he has to do it right."
Ethan nodded solemnly.
“And Ethan?” I waited to make sure I had his attention still. “The secret is that you can’t tell him I asked you to do this. Okay?”
I sighed. Why? Heck if I knew. I couldn’t exactly explain to a four-year old that I’m afraid of loving the kindest, sweetest boyfriend I’ve ever had.
“Because…” I licked my lips, trying to think fast and failing.
"Because otherwise Santa will put coal in his stocking!" Thank you, Ethan. That excuse worked for me.
When we returned to the table, I apologized for interrupting dinner.
“It’s quite alright,” Beth said. Adam’s mother was, to me, obviously the source of his giving soul. “Do you need anything?”
“I’ll be okay.” I looked up at her and put on an honest smile. “I guess I’m overwhelmed by all this familyness. I’m used to being on my own.”
“That’s so sad.”
“Not really. I mean, I’m used to it. I don’t mind.” I risked a glance at Adam then. He pushed peas into his garlic mashed potatoes. I patted his forearm and said, “Adam’s been getting me used to having someone around that cares. I’m still not as used to it as I’d like to be.”
I couldn’t read his expression, and I'm not sure I said it right, but Adam didn’t pull away or call me a liar, so it was a start. It wasn’t an apology. I’d need to do that later, when the entire family wasn’t watching us.
Beth smiled, and to me it seemed a genuine fondness. "You'll get used to it," she said. "Love has that effect on people."
Yeah, that’s why I was pouting during dinner and that’s why Adam’s giving his vegetables funny looks.
After dinner, Ethan rushed us all into the living room, and he plopped down in front of the tree. I watched him unravel the ribbon on a brightly colored box worried that he’d forgotten our plan in favor of the big red fire truck he somehow knew was in that package. He squealed with delight when he saw it and immediately began decimating the packaging trying to free the toy.
While his mother helped him liberate the truck, others opened one gift each – mom, dad, Adam, even Lexi, Ethan’s mom, once he was happily playing. Beth brought me a present with a cheery Merry Christmas on her lips. I smiled and thanked her, giving Ethan one more meaningful glance, but I no longer existed in the world of sirens, ladders, and action figures with air tanks and helmets.
“That’s a great truck, Ethan,” I said.
He looked up, beaming. “Come play with me.”
“I get to open one first,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, open Uncle Adam’s gift!” Then he ran to me and snatched away Beth's gift. He grabbed his uncle’s hand, and in a volume I didn't think possible, he shouted, “Give him your present, Uncle Adam.”
"Indoor voice," his mom said.
“I didn’t bring Morgan’s present here,” Adam said. He still wouldn’t look at me.
“Yes you did, silly.” Ethan ran out of the room. I tried to pretend I didn’t know what he was up to, but doubt suddenly filled me. Had my drama queen act made Adam change his mind?
Ethan saved me from further self-flagellation when he darted through the room and leapt into Adam’s lap. “See!” he said holding up the little box with the now crumpled ribbon.
“Where’d you find that?” Adam asked.
The boy looked at me. I’ve never had a little brother, cousin, or nephew, so I hadn’t thought that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the farce.
“I may have showed him,” I said.
“Because you broke the rules!” Ethan announced.
“Ethan…” his mother warned.
“It’s true. Uncle Adam gave Morgan his gift before dinner. Now He has to do it right. Right mom?”
Lexi’s eyes darted between Adam and me. The boy was probably the only one unaware of the tension between us.
I turned to face Adam directly, doing my best to ignore the concerned gazes of his family. “I’m sorry, babe. I was a jerk earlier. I need a reset button or something.”
“You do,” he said. I felt my cheeks flush and I held my breath. He was the only person who could make me feel ashamed. If I had to stay the night here with him mad at me, I’d claw my eyes out.
“But, it’s Christmas,” Adam continued. He lifted Ethan to the floor before facing me again. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
I didn’t know where the box went when he hugged me. It didn’t matter. His forgiveness was enough. The sinking pit in my chest swelled with relief. I pressed my lips to his ear and whispered, “I love you.” It slipped out. I'd been thinking it plenty, but I wasn't ready to admit it.
I opened my mouth, but no sound would come out. I was vaguely aware of the others talking among themselves. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took his face in my hands and pressed our foreheads together.
“I love you.” I whispered it again, as if it had to be a secret or it’d shatter this illusion I had of myself as a happy little whore. “I was an ass. I–”
His mouth on mine prevented further apologies.
When he pulled back to look at me, I almost said it again. Instead I spent a long moment wondering what the heck was wrong with me to believe I could be a good boyfriend. Adam brushed away my doubt with a light kiss and then held the little black box up between us. “Santa left this under the tree.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. I snatched the box and popped the ring on my finger. It fit perfectly.
Recognizing my surprised at its size, he said, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” He grinned, apparently proud of himself. “You didn’t even flinch when I sized your finger.”
Thanks for reading. Happy holidays!
I hope you enjoyed that Christmas interlude!! If you want to read more about Adam and Morgan, check out Pia's Man Whore.
Morgan is happy as the local slut. His nights fall into three categories: one-nighters, boy toys, and just friends. So when a new favorite boy-toy, Adam Medina, gives him an ultimatum – real dates or no sex – Morgan moves on without argument. Even as Morgan struggles to purge the man from his thoughts, life seems destine to taunt his whorish ways. Morgan isn’t the only one fascinated by Adam. A new demon clutch has moved into the city and they have their sights set on harvesting the blood and souls of its inhabitants. Morgan is ready to learn about relationships, but he and Adam may not survive long enough to find out if love is in their future.
You can go check out more about Pia on her website, on facebook or on twitter!! Explore for the answer to today's trivia question. You can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org with your answer for one entry into the mystery book drawing on Christmas Eve.
Trivia Question: Does Pia have anything available on audiobook?
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