The Loneliest Dragon at Christmas (An MM Monster Christmas #2)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

T hey kept wandering through the markets, weaving through the crowds. Snowflakes drifted down, landing in their hot chocolates. They drained the last drops. Then they got a refill at another stall and continued to meander and talk.

Avery stopped worrying about the questions written on his list. He didn’t need notes. Talking to Jack came so easily. He kept glancing at Jack, amazed to be with this incredible man at the Christmas markets.

A stall selling wooden figures snagged Avery’s attention. “Can we look?”

“Of course.” Jack placed a hand on Avery’s lower back and led him to the stall. “Wherever you want to go, we go.”

Mine.

The dragon instinct awoke within Avery, and the word popped into his head. Avery gave a small shake of his head. This was a first date. Too soon to be deciding Jack belonged to him. He let out a breath, trying to calm his possessive dragon urges.

Small wooden woodland creatures, hand-carved and -painted, lined the table. Little wooden trees and cabins surrounded them. Behind them, on shelves, stood figures of all kinds of beings, including pixies, werewolves, incubi, succubi, gnomes, trolls, orcs, and so much more. He spotted several dragons. One dragon lay curled up and sleeping. He felt an immediate affinity with the sleepy dragon.

Other figures seemed to depict professions, a chimney sweep, a shepherd, a woodsman, a soldier, and a baker. The baker carried a little tray.

Avery wanted the baker. Then he’d have his own personal baker in his home.

Mine.

“The small ones are half a divet. Medium are one divet,” the gnome said. “Big ones are two. And the trees are a quarter.”

“Should I get some?” Avery couldn’t tell which ones he wanted. He wanted all of them! He could imagine them sitting on the mantel over his fireplace or perhaps nestled amongst his books on the shelves.

A Christmas wonderland in his library. His fingers flexed with the urge to take them all home.

“If you want,” Jack said.

Avery did want. He began to pick them out and hand them to the gnome. He grabbed a couple of deer, a bear, a rabbit, a few trees, and a cute little cabin. He then reached for the sleeping dragon and the baker. He stared at the figures in his hand. “They’re lovely.”

“Thank you,” the gnome said, voice bright and cheery.

Mine. These are all mine.

With some reluctance, he handed them over to the gnome, who wrapped each individually and gave them back to Avery in a little box. He also gave Avery a paper bag, which was useful, since he would have trouble carrying these, the wreath, and the cookies.

Avery’s gaze raked over the other figures. He wanted more! He wanted all of them. But he stopped himself. He knew the urge rising inside him. He’d buy the whole shop of figures if he let himself.

But he had to be a controlled dragon. A civilised dragon. Like his father told him to be.

Still, Avery hadn’t lost control. He’d only gotten a few figures. A completely respectable number.

Avery felt giddy as he clutched the bag against his chest. Oh, what treasures he’d found today! What lovely and beautiful treasures! His heart raced as his fingers pressed against the bag, causing it to crinkle.

He turned and smiled at Jack, who watched him with an unreadable expression.

Avery froze. “Is everything all right?” Unease percolated in Avery’s gut.

Had Avery done something wrong? Had his behaviour made Jack uncomfortable? Had he been too greedy and grabby with the figures? Should he have offered to buy one for Jack? Dragons had a habit of not sharing and being greedy. Had he acted selfishly?

Then Jack smiled. “No. Everything is fine.” He reached out his hand.

Avery took it and felt the muscles along his spine release. He’d done nothing wrong. Maybe Jack just liked to look at him. After all, this was a date. One often liked to look at their date.

Avery liked to look at Jack and his broad shoulders, big hands, wide smile, and deep-brown eyes.

They didn’t speak for several minutes as they walked. Avery ate some more of Jack’s cookies. Jack took his bag of packages so they could continue to hold hands. The snowflakes fell heavier, catching on cheeks, eyelashes, and hair.

“Did you want one?” Avery offered a cookie, mindful not to hog them. He placed a jam-filled one into his mouth.

Jack shook his head. “They’re for you.” He stopped walking.

Avery stopped too. They stood, face to face.

“I like watching you eat them. I like knowing you enjoy them.” Jack stepped in closer to Avery. “And I like hearing the sounds you make.”

Avery swallowed the last of the cookie. “What sounds do I make?” Avery hadn’t realised he made sounds. He licked his lips, capturing the last few crumbs.

Jack’s deep-brown eyes traced the movement. “You make little moans. Little sighs of pleasure. Hearing those sounds makes me want to touch you. It makes me want to kiss you.”

Avery’s lips tingled.

“Can I?”

Avery nodded.

Jack reached out. He stroked Avery’s cheek. Avery’s body vibrated with anticipation. Then Jack pressed his lips to Avery’s. Jack’s lips felt so soft.

Avery held completely still, worried about disturbing the magic, worried the kiss would melt away with the snow. No single moment in Avery’s life had ever felt so perfect. No night had ever been so wonderful. He wanted this kiss to go on and on forever.

Then Jack’s lips moved against his. And somehow the moment grew even more wonderful.

Avery sighed into the kiss. Jack’s arm wrapped around his waist. His hand pressed against Avery’s lower back, bringing them closer together. Avery rested his hands on Jack’s shoulders, lost in sweet, gentle kisses that tasted of Jack, hot chocolate, and Christmas cookies.

Mine, his dragon growled.