His Christmas List: – Naughty Stories For Your Stocking
His Christmas List: MR PRESCOTT: Chapter 7

Doe walks out with her bag and puts it by the door and she gives me a sad smile.

“Time to say goodbye?” I ask.

“Yep.”

Her eyes search mine and if I were a better person I would say something meaningful and significant. But as I stare at her beautiful face…words fail me, so instead I take her into my arms and kiss her.

Last night was more.

Way more than I had bargained for, much more than I deserved.

My lips tenderly take hers as a million questions I’m unable to ask linger on them. She’s perfect, absolutely fucking perfect, and I’m unable to offer her a goddamn thing.

She puts her head onto my chest and I stroke her hair as I hold her in my arms.

We both stay silent, lost in our own thoughts.

“It was nice meeting you,” she whispers.

“Believe me—” I smile into her hair, “—the pleasure was all mine.”

She giggles and it drops my stomach.

“What time does your plane leave?” she asks.

I glance at my watch. “In a few hours.”

“Mine too.”

She stares up at me and I know she wants me to ask to see her on the outside.

If I could…I would.

“You should get going,” I say softly.

She nods and pulls out of my grip and instantly the absence of her warm touch is felt.

She walks around the suite and collects her things and puts them into her carry-on luggage while I stand still on the spot, willing myself to let her leave.

I discreetly take my phone out of my suit pocket and turn my data off. I hit search for wi-fi.

Alora’s Phone

Alora.

Her name is Alora.

She walks back into the room and I quickly stuff my phone into my pocket before she sees.

She comes back to stand in front of me. “Are you sure we can’t do what we came here to do?”

“My apologies…I just….” I exhale heavily, disappointed that I can’t do this for her.

Why aren’t I better with words?

“I’ll make sure you receive a credit,” I tell her.

“I don’t want to do that with anyone else,” she whispers.

I stare at her as her words hang between us.

If I were a better person I would tell her to come here again with a new partner, fulfill the list and make her friend proud.

But I can’t.

The thought of her touching someone else is not something I can bear to think about.

“Will you remember me?” she asks.

“Yes. Will you remember me?”

“Probably not.”

I smile down at her and I press my lips to her forehead as I hold her close. She closes her eyes to my touch. “I love it when you kiss my forehead.” She smiles against me.

Enough.

This is getting fucking morbid; I need to cut it short.

“You should get going.” I step back from her.

“Okay,” she whispers, her nostrils flare as she holds in her tears.

Don’t….

Before she can say another word: “Goodbye, Miss Doe.” I nod, then I turn and walk out of the suite. The door clicks closed behind me and I hesitate for a moment as I hold the door handle in my hand. I imagine her on the other side of the door.

I can feel her on the other side of the door…waiting for me to come back through it.

I close my eyes in regret.

Leaving her was harder than it should have been.

I straighten my tie and calmly walk back to my room.

It’s time to go home.

Alora

The cab ride to the airport is long, it’s snowing now.

And unlike the magical snow of last night in his arms, today it’s cold and depressing.

What are the chances that I meet my dream man in a place like this?

I’ve cried for over an hour.

I know that there’s no future for us…hell, he’s probably married or something.

Men like him are never single.

With a connection like we had I get the feeling he would have asked to see me on the outside if he didn’t already have his life set out in front of him.

He’s with someone for sure.

The scenery flies by and I remember the sex and the wild lovemaking, the tender showers and the way he looked after me, and my eyes well with tears anew.

The way he made me feel.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I drag my hand down my face in disgust, only I could catch feelings in an anonymous kink club?

Two hours later I sit at the airport bar by the window.

I’m on my second glass of wine, because as the saying goes, if you can’t be happy be drunk.

I’m on the very last terminal and I watch a big plane pull out to take off and a sleek black private jet parked on the tarmac comes into view.

Wow.

There must be someone famous in town.

There are people refueling it and a truck is delivering produce. Imagine being that rich that you had your own private jet. I see the captain and the three stewardesses board; it must be leaving soon.

It’s the weirdest day, I keep flicking between present time and memories of the weekend. I feel like I’m between worlds, I want to stay back there with him but I’m being forced and dragged to be in the present.

It doesn’t seem fathomable that I will never see him again.

My heart aches at the depressing thought.

I sip my wine and look down at my phone and scroll through for a moment, I glance back up to see two black SUVs pull up beside the black jet. I wonder is it a sportsperson’s jet or maybe a pop star or something?

I watch as a bodyguard gets out and opens the back door of the second car.

I knew it was someone famous.

I grab my phone and flick open the camera; nobody is going to believe me when I tell them I saw Taylor Swift if I don’t have a photo.

I smile as I wait for the person to get out, and then when they do my face drops.

Dark suit, sunglasses, and perfect posture. His dark just-fucked hair and I would know that physique anywhere.

My Mr. Doe.

He walks up the stairs of the plane, the pilot is waiting at the top, he shakes his hand as he walks past him. With my heart in my throat I watch on as he disappears inside. The men in suits who I’m assuming are the bodyguards carry the suitcases onto the jet and eventually the door is shut.

My mouth falls open and I glance down at my phone, damn it. I was so gobsmacked that I forgot to take a photo.

The bodyguards from yesterday…they weren’t from the resort at all.

They were with him.

I stare at the jet as it slowly pulls out and flys away into the afternoon sunset.

What the fuck….

I sit back shocked to my core.

I think I just had a dirty weekend with someone rich or famous.

Who are you?

The waitress walks past my table and puts a fortune cookie down as she hands them out to everyone. “Merry Christmas.” She smiles.

“Thanks.” She moves on to the next table and with a heavy heart I crack mine open.

Make a wish

I hold the fortune cookie in my hand as I go over the weekend and all I can feel is the deepest sense of gratitude.

I know that I didn’t tick off Misty’s wish list.

But I sure as hell ticked off mine.

“Mr. Doe. I don’t know how, I don’t know when….” I smile fondly and close my eyes as I make my Christmas wish. “May we meet again.”