Home for the Holidays: Mr Frosty Pants, Mr Naughty List

by Leta Blake

  Christmas Eve, one year later

  Casey wrapped a few more presents, pushing them under the Christmas tree, admiring the way the colored lights sparkled on the shiny paper he’d picked up at Costco while buying ingredients for pumpkin pie.

  He glanced at the time on his phone, wondering if maybe he should have ignored Joel and gone with him to the graveyard anyway. There were things that a man shouldn’t do alone and maybe putting an Egg McMuffin on his father’s grave was one of them. It was so hard to tell sometimes where the line was between what Joel wanted because he didn’t believe he was worthy and what Joel wanted because, well, he truly wanted it.

  Casey wrapped another gift, hoping he’d made the right choice.

  Bruno drowsed next to him, watching him through bleary, gold eyes. He huffed a sigh whenever Casey rolled out the paper, obviously wishing Casey would hurry up and be done with whatever this nonsense was because he was tired and wanted to sleep.

  “Don’t worry, Bruno. This is the last one.”

  The door opened with a creak, and Bruno hefted up to go greet Joel. Casey stayed where he was and waited. Christmas music played on the new Bluetooth stereo he’d purchased for Joel’s birthday. He gazed around the living room of the trailer, taking in all the changes since the prior year.

  There was a desk now, holding a laptop with multiple tabs open to the social media accounts Casey ran for Joel Grimsbane and Vreeland’s Home and Garden. He’d updated them earlier and was pleased with the continued participation for both accounts, but especially by the readers of Joel Grimbsbane, who often left long, excited comments about the books, all of which he read aloud to Joel in the evening. Those never failed to get Joel at the actual computer, typing up a stunned reply for himself.

  “Hey,” Joel said, stepping into the room. He’d removed his coat and shoes, standing there in just his jeans and T-shirt, muscles showing and tattoos on display.

  “Hey.” Casey rose to plant a kiss on his mouth. “How did it go?”

  “It was okay. Wish I still smoked. A cigarette would have taken the edge off. But I don’t, so…” Joel sank down on the new sofa he’d purchased with six months of increased royalties. He hadn’t smoked in over six months, either, which did Casey’s heart good, but even he missed the scent of cigarette smoke sometimes. Joel didn’t smile, but he relaxed, reaching out for Casey. “I said my goodbyes. My relationship with my dad will never be what I wanted or needed. That’s the hard part. But that was true whether he was alive or dead.”

  “But while he was alive, there was still hope.”

  Joel shook his head. “No. And that’s why I had to walk away in the end. There was never any hope.” He tugged Casey down to the couch beside him, and Casey was grateful that Joel huddled against him, seeking the reassurance and affection he needed. The old Joel—the one Angel had called Mr. Frosty Pants—would never have done such a thing.

  Casey kissed the top of Joel’s head while Joel played with the silver ring Casey always wore on his finger.

  “My folks will be expecting us around five for the Christmas party,” Casey reminded him.

  “My second Stevens family Christmas party,” Joel said softly. “I’d say I was looking forward to it, but that’d be a lie.”

  “Walker will be there. He likes you.”

  “He doesn’t suck.”

  “And you and my mom get along great these days.”

  “Yeah, but at some point between tonight and tomorrow at Christmas dinner I’ll have to apologize to your dad for underestimating you.” Joel squirmed a little. “Even though that was a lie, too.”

  “True. And then later you owe me an apology for ever doubting me at all.”

  Joel went still. “On my knees.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And then a blow job.”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  Joel laughed. “Good thing I’ve gotten better at those.”

  “You’re the best I’ve ever had. Always have been. Always will be.”

  Joel snorted softly, obviously doubting it, but he didn’t argue. “I’m tired. It was cold out there. Will you hold me for awhile?”

  Casey tugged Joel down until they were lying on the sofa together, staring at the tree. Satisfied, Bruno flopped down on top of the wrapping paper still spread out for the last gift and started to snore.

  “I love you,” Joel whispered.

  “I love you too.”

  Joel rolled on top of him, nuzzling his neck. “Show me.”

  “You want me to fuck you?”

  “Yes.”

  Casey grinned. “All right. Where?”

  “Here. On the sofa.” Joel’s lower lip tucked into his mouth and he looked almost bashful. “By the way, I have a gift for you. Something just for us.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I got a physical for that insurance I purchased recently—the insurance for the store.”

  “Right, I remember.”

  “My lab results were good.”

  Casey nodded.

  “And you got a physical before you left NYU. There’s no reason to think any of those results would have changed.”

  Casey’s eyes lit on fire, understanding dawning. “That was months ago, but no. I’ve only been with you since last year.”

  “And I’ve only been with you ever.”

  “I know.”

  Joel swallowed hard. “We don’t need condoms, do we?”

  “No. We haven’t ever needed them, really. I just wanted you to feel safe.”

  “I feel safe with you, Casey.” Joel’s lips trembled slightly as he whispered, “I believe in you. In us. Forever.”

  Casey’s stomach somersaulted. “What convinced you for sure?”

  “I don’t know. All of it. You keeping your promises when you were at NYU. Then moving in here instead of going to Wharton. Making my dreams come true by marketing my books. Turning Vreeland’s around. Helping me save enough to start building the log cabin—”

  “We’ll be in it by next Christmas.”

  “Telling me you love me. Showing me.”

  “Fucking you.”

  “Yes.”

  Casey nuzzled Joel’s neck. “Baby, I love you so much.”

  “I know you do. And I believe it,” Joel whispered, sitting up to straddle Casey’s hips. “I shouldn’t have ever doubted you.”

  “You had a lot of good reasons to doubt me. Like almost four years of reasons.”

  “Well, don’t remind me of them!” Joel exclaimed, laughing. He leaned down and kissed Casey, rough and playful, demanding and still hiccupping with joy. “Fuck me instead. Just fill me up. Make me come my brains out.”

  “Such a dirty mouth you have,” Casey muttered. “But don’t worry. I’ll fuck you until you’re screaming and shooting all over me.”

  Bruno huffed like he could understand what they were saying, got up, and stalked into the kitchen to collapse on his bed there.

  “Bruno doesn’t appreciate your dirty talk,” Casey said. “He’s appalled.”

  “Let him be appalled. Just get your dick up my ass.”

  “You’re always such a sweet talker, baby.” He ground his hips up, pushing his erection into Joel’s jeans-clad buttocks. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

  Ten minutes later, Joel shook and sobbed as Casey licked his hole. He’d never stopped dissolving into tears when he was rimmed, and Casey liked having the power to strip Joel down to raw emotion. He loved that he was the only one who ever had.

  Entering him bare was bliss. His entire body sang with the joy of being united with Joel, skin to skin, and nothing between them. The heat and lust escalated with each thrust. Flipping so that he was on top again, Joel rode Casey hard, the colored lights of the Christmas tree glinting on his sweaty, pale skin and in his dark hair. He was healthier than when Casey had found him again a year before—stronger and meatier, with a little bit of jiggle to the flesh over his strong stomach speaking to the increase in fortune and good meals
. It was beautiful to see.

  Casey squeezed Joel’s hips and held him down hard, shoving up at the same time until he was deep in Joel’s hot, squirming body. He slid his hand up Joel’s stomach and chest, over the dark hair, and tugged him down by the back of the neck for a kiss.

  Joel whimpered at the change of angle and stiffened against him, hot come shooting over Casey’s stomach as his hole squeezed Casey’s dick so tightly that he gasped into Joel’s mouth. He convulsed beneath Joel and came hard too, his come spurting into Joel’s body and his cries of pleasure echoing around the living room.

  Panting in the aftermath, come slick between them and the scent of sex rising, Casey held Joel close. The golden tin star he’d bought as a gift the year before shone on top of the tree, and he gazed up at it, sated and happy, stroking Joel’s hair and shivering in the aftermath of shared joy.

  Christmas Day

  After the traditional Stevens Christmas breakfast, Joel cornered Jonathan Stevens on the back porch of the Stevens’s carefully decorated house across the lake. “I owe you an apology,” he said, stuffing his hands into his jean jacket pocket and straightening his shoulders.

  “Do you?” Jonathan said, turning to him with a gleam in his eye. He wore a Bloody Mary-softened smile and a thick coat against the cold. He nursed a third one. “I was rather thinking I owed you the same thing.”

  “Last year, I promised that I’d be out of your life by today. That didn’t happen.” Thank God.

  “I knew it wouldn’t then,” Jonathan said. “If anything was going to make my son determined to be with you, it was your lack of certainty in him. But he’s devoted to you. He’s like me in too many ways, I suppose. He saw what he needed in you, and he wasn’t going to let you go.” He nodded toward the windows of the house. Joel saw Casey, Courtney, and Deanna laughing in the kitchen as they decorated Christmas cookies together. “That’s how it was with Deanna.”

  “I’m sorry that I…” Joel trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he should apologize for anymore. “I guess I’m not sorry that I was wrong.” He also wasn’t sorry that he’d been less than honest entirely with Jonathan to make sure Casey got to finish at NYU.

  “I’m not either. I am, however, sorry for what I said last year. The way I behaved. I’m sure I have a lot to still make up to you both, but it looks like I’ll have a lot of years ahead to do that.”

  “If Casey has his way.”

  “And if you let him.”

  Joel smiled and nodded. “I plan to.”

  “Come on,” Jonathan said, motioning with his nearly empty Bloody Mary glass. “Let’s go inside. They’ll want help eating the cookies.”

  Taking one last look at his trailer across the lake and the unfinished first story of the log cabin that would be his and Casey’s home soon enough, Joel followed Jonathan inside.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Casey drove Joel through the old neighborhood, past the bus stop and toward Mr. Maples’s yard where the Blow Mold Nativity scene stood. “Remember when we stole the baby Jesus?”

  “What? Are you planning on doing it again?”

  Casey stopped the car in front of the house and got out, his heart pounding.

  Joel jumped out behind him. “Seriously?”

  Casey shook his head and took hold of Joel’s hand and dragged him toward the scene. As they reached Mary, Joseph, and the baby in the manger, he got down on one knee.

  “Marry me.”

  “I… Well… Okay.” Joel gazed around in confusion. “Why here? Why now?”

  “I was already in love with you, but I knew it without a doubt that night we stole the baby Jesus and I kissed this Mary for ‘practice,’ wishing like hell I could kiss you instead.”

  Joel laughed. He squeezed Casey’s hand. “I knew I was in love with you when I was jealous of your lips on that plastic glowing statue.”

  “I want to be with you forever.”

  “I know.”

  “So, say you’ll marry me.”

  “I’ll marry you.” Joel grinned his crooked, happy smile, the one that made Casey’s heart sing. Then he dropped to his knees as well. “Only if you agree to marry me too.”

  Casey laughed, gripping him by the lapels. There, in sight of Mary, Joseph, and the precious glowing baby Jesus, he kissed Joel silly, basking in their love and determined to hold onto it forever.

  THE END

  Mr. Naughty List

  (Home for the Holidays #2)

  By Leta Blake

  An Original Publication from Leta Blake Books

  Mr. Naughty List

  Written and published by Leta Blake

  Cover by Dar Albert

  Formatted by BB eBooks

  Copyright © 2019 by Leta Blake Books

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and locations are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious setting. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or people, living or dead, is strictly coincidental or inspirational. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written consent from the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Kindle Edition

  First Digital Edition, 2019

  For my patrons with my love

  Chapter One

  Freshly scrubbed and eager, Aaron fairly skipped by the glittering storefronts in Market Square. Knoxville was all done up for Christmas with lights and ribbons and wreaths, and he hummed along to “Jingle Bell Rock” as he passed the outdoor ice rink on his way to the cozy, familiar pub where he usually met his hookups.

  He paid Scruffy City Hall’s leather-clad bouncer the $10 cover charge for the night’s band and headed inside to find the dim, wood-lined interior already packed with people. Needing a drink sooner rather than later, Aaron forced his way through the crowd and up to the bar to put in his order with the hipster, bearded bartender and was gratified by a glorious whisky sour within mere moments.

  An unfamiliar and yet very Christmas-y song rang around him, emanating from the next room. Visible through an arched doorway, the small, crowded stage flashed with spangled lights from a disco ball.

  The holiday spirit was evidently rampant amongst the patrons, a mix of college students and single thirty-somethings, dancing and singing along to the catchy, Christmas-themed chorus. Silver, gold, and red decorations hung from the pub’s ceiling, adding a sparkle and shine that lifted the room out of mediocrity and into joy. Aaron’s spirits rose even higher.

  Gazing around, hoping not to see any familiar faces and pleased to find nary a one, Aaron moved into the room where the band responsible for the jangling array of Christmas tunes amped up the excitement of the drunk and adoring crowd.

  Dodging elbows and squeezing between dancers, Aaron sought out a place where he could watch, listen, and drink. The rock-n-roll carols vibrated his bones, a cheering, holiday-infused hum that made his eardrums ache, but Aaron didn’t plan to be here long enough to worry about his hearing. Fingers crossed, anyway.

  He’d already been blown off once that evening by a potential hookup. In his desperation to secure an end to his current spell of celibacy, he’d been less choosy than usual in arranging this one. Aside from a photo of a handsome, if rather cruel-looking face, to identify the guy by, Aaron only knew his screenname—CaptainKY—and wasn’t even sure if that referred to the state or the lube.

  Aaron had resisted the lure of hookup apps for almost six months. He’d been proud of himself for making good use of the Internet and his right hand to satisfy his needs instead of requiring the sexual services of a stranger. Not that he wanted to be celibate. It was just that it was so damn hard to find no-strings-attached fucks in a town the size of Knoxville. Not as a teacher trying to keep his sexuality quiet.

  The last thing Aaron needed was to find himself face-to-face with a student’s closeted dad on parent-teacher night, or discover he’d scre
wed the older brother of one of his current students, or to trip and fall into some other horrible situation that could cost him his already tattered reputation and maybe his job.

  Thus, his usual preference was to pick up men passing through town: business travelers for the most part, though truckers would do just fine if he was looking for a certain expérience spécifique. That’d been the plan tonight, actually. A tough-looking man who’d been trucking through town had offered to meet him for drinks and a long, slow blow job, followed by a nice, hard spanking. But the trucker had backed out at the last minute for an unspecified reason.

  Which, okay. Fine. Whatever.

  Aaron sometimes backed out of hookups too. It happened—second thoughts, or some protective instinct warned him against a particular rendezvous, so he flaked. But he’d needed it tonight. He’d been aching for it for weeks now. So, no sooner than the trucker had ditched him, Aaron had been back on the apps, scrolling for a new catch.

  And he’d found one.

  Cruel face. Baseball cap. In town for a monster truck show.

  Aaron could totally not relate to that interest, but all the better. It was so much less likely they’d have to spend a lot of time talking. Instead, he’d test CaptainKY out here at the club, make sure he felt safe with him, and then go back to the hotel where the guy was staying. Probably not the Hotel Oliver, since that was a bit posh for the stereotypical monster truck fan, but maybe the new business-class Marriott, which was right around the corner from his apartment. Aaron wouldn’t even be tempted to spend the night.

  Sipping his cocktail, he meandered closer to the stage, attracted by the glow of the fake stained-glass windows on the balcony above the room and the optical illusion of the castle-like hall behind the stage itself. The sound was tight, and the performers were dressed up in Christmas glitz—reindeer antlers, wristbands made of tinsel, and the girls wore shimmery hair and makeup. Entertainment, Knoxville style.

  Aaron was meeting CaptainKY between nine and nine-thirty, but he’d been too anxious and horny to wait at home, so he’d come out a little early. He figured a drink in advance would soothe his jitters and make him looser all over. For whatever happened in the hotel. God, he hoped the guy was hung. He needed a cock in his ass more than he needed air.