A Perfect Man for Christmas ~ Chapter 2

A Perfect Man for Christmas

An erotic serial in 12 parts

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 2nd Day of Christmas

by Elaine Barris

Michael crunched through the ice and snow on the sidewalk as he made his way to the beast of a car sitting in Wynter’s driveway. His cock twitched at the memory of being inside her tight heat. She belonged to him as much as the 12 cylinder. If she didn’t already know he owned her, she would by the time this holiday was over.

“Fucking right, she will,” he growled and punched the car to life.

He eased himself back into the seat, flinching at the pain of where she had laced her talons down his back in passion as she writhed in undulating waves of orgasmic bliss. His flesh had mended enough to not be bleeding in rivers, but it stung.

His phone chimed in his pocket, and he drew it out, looking at the name displayed.

“Yeah? What do you want?”

“Where do I deliver the package?”

The sound of chirping and flapping birds was in the background.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘where do you deliver the package?’”

“What?” Gustav yelled.

Michael held the phone away from his ear before yelling back, 

“Where do you think you’re supposed to deliver it?”

“There’s no address listed on the shipping label.”

“I’m surrounded by fucking idiots!”

“Michael, sir, I-- ”

“Forget it! Like everything else in this operation, I have to do this myself. Leave it where it is, and I’ll take care of it.”

He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and shifted into reverse, muttering to himself about the lack of good help.

Minutes later, he maneuvered the growling car up the ramp into the warehouse where he kept his business. Shifting into park, he threw the car door open with such force it bounced back, slamming him inside before he had moved to get out.

“Goddamn it.”

Gustav came running up to the car. Feathers were stuck to his face and hands; a few quills were between the rims of his glasses and head.

After opening the door more gently, Michael got out of the car and faced his inept employee.

“What the fuck happened?”

“They got out, sir.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, sir, but they are trapped inside your office. We were able to seal the room.”

Throwing his fingers through his hair, Michael tapped his boots on the concrete floor as he thought about what a clusterfuck he was in. If he didn’t get those damned winged creatures back into the birdcage and delivered, there’d be hell to pay.

He turned his head to look towards his office, seeing the birds sitting on his coat rack in the corner.

Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

“Come on.” He pointed across the room to the golden contraption they had somehow escaped. “Bring it with you.”

Stalking over to the room, he stopped when he took hold of the door knob and looked behind him at Gustav.

“On the count of three.”

Gustav nodded and a few feathers fell from his clothes to the ground.

Michael went through the countdown, and then opened the door with his lackey at his heels.

“What the--” Michael said as his feet slipped out from underneath him, and he fell backwards, taking Gustav to the floor with him. 

“Shut the door!” he yelled as the birds saw their opening and took flight.

The latch closed before the two turtle doves were able to find their escape.

The men got up, and Michael raised his hands in front of his face and cursed, seeing them covered in the white slime of the birds’ excrement.

“Oh, dear.” Gustav handed him his handkerchief, and Michael grabbed it, wiping his hands as he looked at the dotted floor.

“Open the cage.”

Michael lunged at the nearest bird, taking it by its feet as it fought him to not be confined. Thrusting its squawking body inside the cage, Michael locked it in, and then went to battle the other.

That one was crafty and flew through air, dodging the men’s attempts to capture it.

“Stop,” Michael ordered, and then they waited for the winged menace to settle down.

When it did, it landed on Gustav’s head and started pecking his scalp.

“Ow!” Gustav jerked at the pain of the pricks into his skin as pieces of his hair were plucked out.

“Don’t you fucking move.” Michael avoided looking the dove in the eyes as he waited until the perfect moment.

“Sir.”

“Shut up.”

Then the bird began to coo in a serenade of love to its partner who was locked up.

“That’s right,” Michael whispered, and in a flash of motion, snatched the bird by the neck from the nest it had been making out of 

Gustav’s tresses and thrust it into the cage.

Lifting it by the handle, he took it to Gustav’s vehicle.

“Give me your keys. I’m not letting these things shit all over my leather.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied and handed them over.

Michael sat the birds in the truck’s passenger seat, securing it by latching the seatbelt around it. After getting into the driver’s seat and starting up the engine, he rolled the window down for fresh air.

“Wynter had better find ‘the man’ after all of this. I did my part. Found the two fucking turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.”

Check out Elaine's website for more of her terrific books - 

http://elainebarris.weebly.com/ 

For part 3 of the story -  Andrew Jericho Blog

and Cariad Books Blog


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