He Sees You When You’re Sleeping: A Dark and Steamy Holiday Romance of Obsession and Secrets – Where Desire Meets Danger in the Heart of NYC -
He Sees You When You’re Sleeping: Chapter 30
Best Christmas Eve ever. My mind is at ease, my body is humming in sexual bliss, my cock still tingling from the intense orgasm I just had. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had now.
Chloe lies next to me, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath. The twinkling lights outside her window cast a warm glow across her naked body. I always wondered what the lights I hung looked like from her point of view, and now I know. And seeing what they do to her perfect body . . . worth the effort.
I trace lazy circles on her skin, savoring the afterglow and the intimacy of the moment.
“Mmm,” Chloe purrs, snuggling closer. “I think you broke me.”
I kiss her forehead. “Rest up,” I murmur. “I’m not done yet.”
“Mercy!”
“Never.”
Chloe giggles and playfully swats at my chest. “You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you,” I reply, capturing her hand and bringing it to my lips.
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the soft carols playing from her Bluetooth speaker. The scent of cinnamon and pine mingles with the musky aroma of our lovemaking. Outside, a light snow is falling, blanketing the world in peaceful white.
Chloe props herself up on one elbow, her tousled hair falling around her face. In the soft glow of the Christmas lights, she looks absolutely radiant.
“You know,” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I have a present for you.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “And here I thought you were my present.”
She laughs, a melodious sound that makes my heart skip. “Well, consider this an . . . added bonus.”
Chloe slides out of bed, the sheets falling away to reveal her curves. I watch appreciatively as she pads across the room to her closet. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a small, wrapped package.
“Is the present for Jack or WinterWatcher?” I call to her, chuckling as I do.
She looks over her shoulder and playfully glares. “Jack. I was hoping I’d see you even though we didn’t make plans to.”
I smile warmly at her words, feeling a surge of affection. “I couldn’t stay away,” I admit softly.
Chloe returns to the bed, present in hand. She settles beside me, cross-legged, not bothering to cover herself. The Christmas lights dance across her skin, highlighting the curves I’ve spent the night exploring.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” she says, her voice low and sultry. She holds out the gift. “Merry Christmas, Jack.”
I sit up, taking the small package. It’s beautifully wrapped in silver paper with a red bow.
“Since I haven’t bought a present for anyone in years, this is a pretty big step. Being a Scrooge and all,” she says. “But when I saw this in an antique shop, I knew I had to get it for you.”
I carefully unwrap the gift. Chloe watches me intently, biting her lower lip—the cutest quirk of hers when she’s nervous or thinking hard. As I remove the last of the paper, I reveal a small velvet box.
Inside is a beautiful silver pocket watch. The cover is intricately engraved with snowflakes and pine trees—a perfect winter scene. I gently lift it out, admiring the craftsmanship.
“Open it,” Chloe urges softly.
I press the latch, and the cover springs open. Inside, along with the watch face, is an inscription:
To Jack. Thank you for watching over me this Christmas. Love, Scrooge.
She smiles. “What’s ironic is I bought this before I knew you were WinterWatcher, and I used the word ‘watcher.’ Funny right?”
I’m momentarily speechless. I should completely confess how on the nose her engraving is, but I can’t. Not tonight. Not Christmas Eve when it is literally the most perfect night of my life. Instead I get up and head to the other room where I placed her Christmas present in hopes I’d replace the right time to give it to.
“Do you like it?”
“More than you know.”
“Good. I know pocket watches can be old school. But something about you screams old fashioned in some ways.”
“Hold on,” I say. “Let me get yours.”
I return to the bedroom, a small, elegantly wrapped box in my hands. Chloe’s eyes widen with surprise and delight.
“You got me something too?” she asks, her voice soft with wonder.
I nod, settling back onto the bed beside her. “Of course. I couldn’t let Christmas pass without giving the Scrooge something so her heart can grow.”
I hand her the box, watching as she carefully unwraps it, her fingers tracing the golden ribbon before gently pulling it loose. She lifts the lid, and I hear her sharp intake of breath.
Inside lies a delicate silver necklace, a small snowflake pendant hanging from the chain. Tiny diamonds are set into each point of the snowflake, catching the light and sparkling brilliantly.
“Jack, it’s beautiful,” Chloe whispers, lifting the necklace from its velvet cushion. “It’s too much.”
I shake my head, gently taking the necklace from her hands. “It’s not too much. It’s perfect for you.”
I move behind her, brushing her hair to the side. As I fasten the clasp around her neck, I place a soft kiss on her shoulder. The snowflake pendant settles right above her breasts, glittering in the Christmas lights.
“There,” I murmur, my breath warm against her skin. “Beautiful.”
Chloe turns to face me, her eyes shining with emotion. She touches the pendant gently, then looks up at me. “Thank you, Jack. I love it.” Her eyes meet mine, shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you for making this year . . . not so hard.”
I cup her face in my hands, thumbs brushing away the tears that have started to fall.
She leans in, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that’s both tender and passionate. When we part, she rests her forehead against mine, her fingers toying with the snowflake pendant.
“What a crazy night,” she says.
I smile at her words. “Crazy good, I hope?”
“The best,” she affirms, her eyes sparkling. “I never thought I’d enjoy Christmas Eve again, but here we are.”
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Here we are. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Chloe snuggles into my embrace, her head resting on my chest. I can feel her heartbeat, steady and strong, against my skin.
“But,” I add with a sigh, “I do have to be at the station at seven a.m.”
Chloe pulls back slightly, looking up at me with a mix of admiration and disappointment. “You’re working on Christmas Day? For one of the firefighters? I remember you saying that.”
I can see the conflict in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to leave, but she also appreciates the gesture. I stroke her cheek gently.
“I know, I’m sorry. I made the promise before . . . well, before tonight happened,” I explain softly. “I don’t have any kids or family, so—”
“I think it’s sweet,” she interrupts.
“But the other guys working tonight and I are cooking Christmas dinner at the station. We’re allowed to invite family and guests to come join us, and I’d love to have you come if you don’t have any other plans tonight.”
Chloe’s eyes light up at my invitation, but I can see a flare of hesitation cross her face. “Really? You want me to come to the fire station for Christmas dinner?”
I nod, running my fingers through her hair. “Absolutely. I know it’s not a traditional Christmas dinner, but—”
“No, it sounds perfect,” she says, her smile growing. “I’d love to come. I just . . . I’m not family. Are you sure it’ll be okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. The guys will be thrilled to have another guest. We always cook way too much food anyway. But fair warning . . . we are still on shift. So if there’s a call, we may have to get up in the middle of dinner and bolt. So as long as you’re flexible and know you might be left with the other fire wives or girlfriends.”
Chloe’s face lights up. “That sounds amazing, actually. I’ve never experienced anything like that before.” She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Will I need to bring anything?”
I shake my head, pulling her close again. “Just yourself. And maybe a big appetite.”
She laughs softly, her breath warm against my chest. “I think I can manage that. Especially after tonight’s . . . activities.”
I chuckle, running my hand down her back. “Speaking of which, we should probably get some sleep if we want to be functional tomorrow.”
Chloe sighs contentedly, snuggling closer. “You’re right. But I don’t want this night to end.”
“We don’t have to end,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head. “This is just the beginning.”
We settle into bed, Chloe’s back pressed against my chest, my arm draped over her waist. The Christmas lights continue to twinkle softly, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, the snow falls silently, blanketing the world in white.
Just before sleep claims me, I hear Chloe whisper, “Merry Christmas, Jack.”
“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” I reply back, my heart full.
As consciousness fades, my last thought is of tomorrow. Of Chloe at the firehouse, sharing a meal with my colleagues, becoming a part of my world. It’s a future I never dared to imagine, but now can’t imagine a life without her.
I stare at the window, knowing it wasn’t that long ago that I stood on the other side. Watching. Picturing what it would be like to hold her. To be with her. And now here I am, her warm body pressed against mine, her soft breathing soothing the raging guilt I still battle. The guilt of my past actions—the watching, the secrecy—tugs at the edges of my consciousness. I know I’ll have to come clean eventually. But for now, I push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the feel of Chloe in my arms, the scent of her hair, the rhythm of her breathing.
As I drift off to sleep, my mind wanders to the future. I imagine more nights like this, more Christmases spent with Chloe. I want this—want her—more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But the weight of my secret hangs heavy.
Morning comes too soon. The alarm on my phone chimes softly, and I carefully extricate myself from Chloe’s embrace. She stirs, mumbling sleepily.
“Shh,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you later at the station and will text you the address.”
She nods, already drifting off again. I dress quietly, pausing at the door to look back at her. The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow on her sleeping form. My heart swells with emotion.
I don’t want to fuck this up.
Please don’t let me fuck this up.
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