Christmas Desires Series by Adrian Jules

One late-night shift. One impossible choice. One touch that changes everything. The holiday gig was be the sketch artist for the mall’s Santa. Keep my head down. Ignore the man in the red suit. Then the gates locked, and Jack offered me a drink. The Santa suit came off, revealing tattoos and an intensity that pinned me in place. He saw the secret I was hiding from myself. I’m not gay. But in the silent, glowing dark, with his hands on my skin, every denial feels like a lie... moreOne late-night shift. One impossible choice. One touch that changes everything. The holiday gig was be the sketch artist for the mall’s Santa. Keep my head down. Ignore the man in the red suit. Then the gates locked, and Jack offered me a drink. The Santa suit came off, revealing tattoos and an intensity that pinned me in place. He saw the secret I was hiding from myself. I’m not gay. But in the silent, glowing dark, with his hands on my skin, every denial feels like a lie. This season, the only list that matters is his. And my name is at the very top. less

I signed up for a Christmas baking class to prove something to my ex. I didn’t expect Julian. The pastry chef is all sharp confidence and steady hands, fixing my posture, guiding my grip, watching me like he sees every crack I try to hide. And every time he touches me, something inside me slips. I’m straight. At least, I thought I was. But in that warm, gingerbread-scented bakery, with his chest at my back and his voice in my ear, denial feels impossible. Heat is building... moreI signed up for a Christmas baking class to prove something to my ex. I didn’t expect Julian. The pastry chef is all sharp confidence and steady hands, fixing my posture, guiding my grip, watching me like he sees every crack I try to hide. And every time he touches me, something inside me slips. I’m straight. At least, I thought I was. But in that warm, gingerbread-scented bakery, with his chest at my back and his voice in my ear, denial feels impossible. Heat is building. Boundaries are blurring. And Julian isn’t just teaching me how to bake. He’s unraveling me. This Christmas, I might lose more than my self-control. I might lose the man I thought I was. less

A few nights. Too many drinks. One truth I can’t outrun. I came back to my hometown to sell my mother’s house, not to reopen old wounds. Not to run into Callum, my old friend, now a bartender who knows me better than anyone ever has. Each night turns into another drink. Another look that lingers too long. Another touch that feels like a mistake… until it doesn’t. But Callum looks at me like he sees something I’ve spent eight years refusing to name... moreA few nights. Too many drinks. One truth I can’t outrun. I came back to my hometown to sell my mother’s house, not to reopen old wounds. Not to run into Callum, my old friend, now a bartender who knows me better than anyone ever has. Each night turns into another drink. Another look that lingers too long. Another touch that feels like a mistake… until it doesn’t. But Callum looks at me like he sees something I’ve spent eight years refusing to name. Like he knows exactly what I could become… if I stopped running. I’m not gay. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. With every shared drink, every loaded silence, every touch that goes too far, the truth presses closer. This Christmas, the bar closes late. And once I stop running, there’s no going back. less