by J. O Mantel
“So?”
“So, what?” I question.
“Humor me. Tell me how it happened.”
“Well, I picked up the phone, dialed his number and we talked. It kind of just happened, really.”
“Kind of just happened? Things don’t ‘just happen’ with you, Deacon.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Except that you’re a dirty little pervert, and I’m totally fine with that.”
I roll my eyes at her and scroll through my Facebook notifications. This is typical of Kate, before Brodie, she was always butting into my personal life whenever a new man or fling came along. Of course I’d never have it any other way. I’ve spent the past three hours replaying the entire scene in my head and each time, freaked out about what the hell I’m doing.
“Tell me you’re going to see him?”
“Do you ever mind your own business?” I ask.
“When it comes to you, your dirty hook-ups, and your sex life, hell no!”
“That’s kind of disturbing,” I tell her.
“Nothing should surprise you when it comes to your older sister. Now spill, are you going to see him?”
“I told him I would, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
“Because everything is still so raw and painful. I was running on autopilot. Then I wondered what the actual fuck am I doing, and now it all feels like just a rebound.”
“I’ve heard from many of my girlfriends who have broken up with their exes that rebounds are good. That’s what makes the sex so damn hot.”
“Sis, you’re not helping.”
“Why on earth would you let your doubts get in the way of this?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing all afternoon.”
“The guy obviously thinks you’re hot if he gave you his number.”
“We barely met,” I confirm.
As if trying to convince her isn’t hard enough, I’m struggling to believe there’s obviously some reason to why fate’s throwing this opportunity at me.
“You can’t sit here and tell me that you’re not just as excited about this as I am.”
“Ah, yes, I can when our parents, your husband, and your children are in the kitchen only a few feet away,” I deflect.
Kate and I are more than brother and sister, she’s my best friend, to the point where we tell each other everything, well okay not that kind of everything. She knows when I’m having a shitty day without me having to call her. She knows the things I hated about Brodie and the things I loved about him. And I know that she never takes no for an answer, and that she always puts others ahead of herself; that’s how stubborn she is.
“Deacon, don’t let what Brodie did to you reflect on how you think about men and sex. You’re better than that, right?”
I nod.
“And you should never let anyone stand in your way of happiness.”
I know. I know everything she’s telling me right now is true.
“I love you, sis, so much.”
“And I love you too.”
I lean forward and wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. She pulls away and then looks me in the eyes as she says, “Now, stop being a stubborn ass and get your butt over to the mall and show Mr. Hazel Eyes what you’ve got. But before you do that, you really need to change your outfit.”
I let out a chuckle then get to my feet as I ponder what I’m going to wear.
When the final child hops off my knee, I get to my feet and head backstage. I pull off the hat, beard, and glasses, and toss them into the props bag resting on the table. I quickly slip out of the Santa suit and change into my grey cargo pants and as I reach for my shirt, I have second thoughts and decide, even though it’s freezing outside, to go shirtless with a Santa vest instead. It’s fifteen minutes until closing time, and I glance hopefully back at the curtain I just walked through, but there’s no sign of the man from the other day.
Stalker much?
I reach for my phone, and, like the pathetic love-sick teenager I feel like right now, check for any missed calls or messages.
Nothing.
I slowly pace the tiny area, before navigating the straggling shoppers to find the bathroom where I splash some cool water over my face and through my hair. I quickly return to backstage where I come face-to-face with … Deacon.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey. Sorry, I know I’m early.”
“That’s okay, I’m finished. Have you been waiting long?”
“No, I just got here, actually.”
My gaze immediately takes a lazy stroll up and down the length of his body. First, I focus on his muscular arms as the fabric molds to the shirt he’s wearing. Then I peer over his torso and groin as my pants tighten at the thought of what’s hiding beneath them. My perverted head immediately flashes to ideas of exactly how I want to peel him out of those clothes and get him between my legs.
“Well, shall we get out of here?” I suggest.
“Um, sure.”
I grab the bag with my Santa suit and swing my backpack over my shoulder, then say goodbye to the two girls dressed as elves. I walk ahead, leading the way through the almost deserted shopping mall to a pair of doors that swing open as we approach the sensors. I lead us down the long, narrow corridor and I take a quick glance over my shoulder, where Deacon is trailing closely behind me. We walk a little farther until I stop outside the door marked LAUNDRY. Turning the key, I push the door open and step inside.
“Do you mind if I do the laundry first? I have to get this damn suit washed and dried before tomorrow. Shouldn’t take more than about thirty minutes.”
“No problem,” he replies, stepping inside the room.
I push the door closed, locking it quietly before I walk over to the old top loader washing machine. I throw my backpack to the ground and balance the bag of clothing on the edge of the open washer so I can unzip it and empty the contents into the drum. Reaching for the provided soap and fabric softener, I place equal amounts on top of the clothes, close the lid, then adjust the settings. I turn the knob to “QUICK WASH” and press the start button, then I turn around to face Deacon and rest my ass against the front of the machine.
“So, ah, how long have you been dressing up as Santa?” Deacon asks.
“About five years, but I’m actually an exotic dancer. When I’m not here playing nice Santa to all the little boys and girls, the rest of the year I’m an exotic dancer, dancing on a bar.”
“What’s the difference between exotic dancing and stripping?” he asks.
“Stripping would entail me removing items of clothing, right down to nothing. Being an exotic dancer, however, means I can keep my butt cheeks and cock covered, in skimpy underwear that makes men’s and women’s tongues wag.”
“I still say that’s exactly the same thing.”
His eyes stay fixed on mine as a million thoughts race through my mind about what I can say to this guy to try and ease the tension that’s suddenly filled the room. But it doesn’t matter because the man standing only inches in front of me is distractingly handsome.
I’m talking, drop-dead gorgeous.
And definitely sex on legs.
Seriously hot damn!
My eyes stay on his, my smile automatic and genuine, and it’s so hard to keep a straight face when all I want to do is tear his clothes off.
Yet here we are, two peas in a pod, each one of us waiting for the other to say or do something first. We continue to remain mute, but when his smile angles my way, I feel my cock twitch beneath the fabric of my cargos. The machine clicks behind me, filling the silence, and all I do is stare at the man like he’s god or something.
But that’s just it, he is a god.
“Is it a little warm in here?” I ask, removing my vest and throwing it to the floor beside my backpack.
“How many men have you tried
that line on?” he asks, his eyes now roaming my bare torso.
“Not enough to pay any attention.”
I inch forward until I’m close enough to touch him, and then slowly place a hand on his lower abdomen as my fingers reach for the knot on his sweatpants.
“You want to try anything from this buffet?” His deep tenor tone hits my ears.
“Yeah,” I whisper, loosening the knot. My fingers burrow inside his pants as I keep my eyes firmly locked with his. “But I’ve got my eye on something else at the moment,” I smirk, tugging at the fabric.
I slide my hands along the material until my fingers are on his hips, and with our eyes still connected, I tug the pants down his thighs until they’re resting at his ankles. I slide my hand up the inside of his hoodie, stroking his rigid muscles as I lift it over his head and toss it on top of the washer.
“What I would really like,” I whisper daringly into his ear as I move my hand down to cup him through his briefs, “is to know what this feels like in my mouth.”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” he asks.
“Nope,” I reply.
“Then how about you get down on your knees and show me how much you want it.”
I spin us around so that his ass is pressed against the washing machine and then I slowly get to my knees. I slide out my tongue to moisten my lower lip then slide my fingers into the fabric of his underwear and lower them an inch, then a little more until I get a sneak peek at what I’m craving. His cock is angled to his left, like a stiff rod, and I lean forward, slicking my tongue over the thick length before I wriggle the material down a little lower, freeing his insistent hard-on.
He places both hands on the machine behind him as I slide the underwear down to join his pants. I wrap my fist around the root of his shaft and then slowly lower my lips over the sensitive, swollen head. I hear the gentle moans from above, but I don’t dare remove my lips. Instead, I slide lower, taking him as deep as I possibly can. He bucks his hips forward, pushing himself to the back of my throat as I clench his thighs with my fingertips. I angle my head up and when our stares collide, I slick his cock with my tongue. A loud curse escapes Deacon’s lips, then I remove my lips and take both his balls.
“Christ!” He moans.
I feel his firm hands press against the back of my head, moving me rapidly up and down his cock as Deacon pumps his hips forward, pushing his veiny length farther down my throat until I gag and some of lunch comes back up. I swallow it back down as I slide free from his cock, then kiss my way up the length of his body and push him hard up against the front of the machine.
I lean forward and press a kiss on Deacon’s chest, then lift his legs and rest them on both my shoulders as I guide my cock inside his opening. A groan slips from between my lips when he clenches around my cock, spurring me to lean forward and gently tug on his bottom lip with my teeth as I slide in and out of him.
“Kiss me,” I order.
He anchors himself on his elbows and leans forward, then slips his tongue between my lips in another fierce kiss. As we pull apart, a loud rumble escapes my lips, breaking through the relative silence in the room as I continue to rock my cock in and out of Deacon. I hear the machine click and my lips tip up into an arrogant smirk.
“Mmm, spin cycle,” I growl as the machine starts to vibrate beneath him.
My thrusts become faster and harder with each vibration and movement of the machine.
“Oh fuck,” he curses.
The moans escaping his lips are the sexiest thing I’ve heard; his glistening body is the other sexiest thing I love about him. When he looks at me with seductive eyes, mouth-watering lips, and a flush on his cheeks, I have to commit the vision to memory as it’s something I don’t want to soon forget. I lean forward, my fingers digging into his thighs as he lifts his right hand and slides a finger between my lips, and I suck on the digit....
Another moan escapes his lips as I slip deeper inside him. His muscles tighten around me as I hit the prostate, and his legs tense around my waist as I pound harder. I see his eyes glaze with desire, and I know in any moment, I’m going to lose my shit.
But not yet.
I slowly withdraw my cock from inside him, lowering myself over his body, as I place my hand behind his neck and pull him forward. The machine picks up speed on the spin cycle, and I lick the sweat off his Adam’s apple, then nip at the light stubble on his chin before kissing a path to his lips and breaking free to stare into his eyes.
“The reindeer isn’t the only thing I’m going to be riding home tonight,” I whisper.
His eyes widen, full of lust, desire, and seduction. I pull myself off him and take a step backward.
“Lie down … on the floor,” I order, reaching for a clean towel as I lay it out for him.
He does as instructed as I reach into my bag again and pull out another condom. I’m already placing it between my teeth and tearing the packaging as I go to my knees. I slowly roll the condom over his erect dick with my fingers, then lean over to finish the job with my lips, swallowing him whole again with a mouthful of latex. When he’s fully sheathed, I stand and turn around so that my back is to him, then I look over my shoulder. His cock is at full mast, eagerly waiting to claim its rightful place inside me. Slowly, I kneel down and spread my legs apart until I feel the length of his cock graze against my cheek.
As I get lower, I reach behind me and grip his cock, pushing it between my cheeks. I adjust myself until I feel the rounded head part my puckered hole and massage the nerves as it breaches me. I hear a growl escape his lips, then look over my shoulder to see him slam his eyes shut. Placing my hands on the ground beside him, so that they’re behind me, I arch my back and slowly push myself onto the head of his cock.
“Fuck, Deacon,” I moan. The immediate sensation is the pressure of something so thick penetrating me.
“God, your ass is so tight,” I hear him say from below.
His hands go to my hips, and his fingers clench into my skin as he pushes me down, sliding deeper inside me.
“Harder, Deacon,” I order as he bucks his hips up and back down.
His cock feels so unreal inside me, and this is something I haven’t felt in a long time. As I slide up and down, I feel him stretch me wider.
“Your cock is fucking huge,” I moan, clenching my fists as I feel my balls tingle.
“Thanks,” he pants.
His flesh pulsates inside me and I remain still and focused as I get used to the sizeable intruder. I slide down a little farther, and his shaft shifts, giving me the utmost pleasure as I let out a loud curse.
“Oh fuck yeah,” I growl, as my eyes roll to the back of my head.
I reach down and remove my condom, then pump my cock with my fist as Deacon thrusts his hips and takes full control. The sensation in my balls makes its way to the surface and I grip harder.
“Do you like how I feel inside you?” he asks.
“Yesss, god yes, Deacon,” I hiss, stroking my cock faster.
It only takes seconds for it to erupt, sending a thick, white, sticky mess all over the floor. I slide off Deacon’s cock and turn around to face him as I crawl between his legs. He grits his teeth as I remove the latex from his flesh and wrap my fist around it, stroking it fast and hard. I feel it swell in my grasp and I quickly lower my lips over the mushroomed head, slide my fist down to the root of his shaft, and suck the living daylights out of him as his own orgasm explodes down my throat.
The guy is incredible, and I lean over him so my lips meet his one more time.
“That was fucking spectacular,” I pant, resting my forehead against his.
“Did I finally make the nice list, Santa?” he smirks.
“I think you belong on my naughty list. But if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you ride Rudolph on Christmas Eve.”
His eyes widen at my comment, and as our mouths collide once more, the washing machine sounds as it finishes the
last spin cycle.
“Oh. My. God. You dirty little pervert. I can’t believe you actually fucked the guy.”
“Kate!”
“Well, you did.”
“Keep your voice down. And what the hell are you doing sneaking into my room at this hour? Were you waiting for me to come home?” I ask her.
“Just like old times, right?”
“And just like old times I’d say, it’s none of your business.”
“Well that’s not very nice,” she pouts.
Kate and Thomas have spent many wonderful years in marital bliss, and they have two adorable children. She’s never complained to me about her sex life, and yet she finds it more fascinating talking to me, her younger brother, about my sex life. Seriously, what is it with women about gay sex that turns them on so much? Actually, knowing my sister, I don’t think I really want to know the answer to that question. She was absolutely right though, sex on the rebound is absolutely the best thing ever. It’s carefree, hassle-free, fun, and gloriously satisfying in every possible way.
“You’re gloating, aren’t you?” Kate asks.
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are, I can see it all over your face.”
“It’s dark in here, how can you see what my face looks like?”
“So, are you going to see him again?” she fishes.
“Seriously? Kate, I barely know the guy.”
“And since when has that ever been an issue for you before Brodie?”
Okay, so she makes a very compelling argument.
“Bitch!”
“Mwah,” she responds.
Although it’s dark, I can tell that she’s smiling. I let out a sigh which fills the dark room, but I say nothing.
“But seriously, you’re going to see him again, right?”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Hell no. What kind of an older sister do you take me for?”
“To be honest, I don’t know if I’m going to see him again. It was just sex, Kate. No commitments, no strings attached, all that crap. I can’t get into another relationship right now.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she asks.