by Jaxx Steele
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
A Totally Bound Publication
Him for the Holidays
ISBN # 978-1-78430-363-1
©Copyright Jaxx Steele 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright December 2014
Edited by Faith Bicknell-Brown
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 1.
HIM FOR THE HOLIDAYS
Jaxx Steele
Don meets Trevor when he goes home for the holidays. Could a long-distance romance be his holiday wish come true?
Donald Bradley is home for the holidays. While running an errand for his mother, he meets Trevor Oxford, who is everything Don could ask for in a man. However, Don does not intend to have any type of relationship with him. Trevor lives and works in the small town and Don lives two hundred miles away in the city. Trevor is confident and aggressive in his pursuit of Don, who is confused by Trevor’s attentiveness. Don wants to run away from Trevor and run to him at the same time.
Could a long-distance romance be just what Don needs to start the New Year? Will Don accept what Trevor has to offer, giving him what he really wants this holiday season?
Dedication
For those who still believe family can aid in Christmas miracles.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Speedo: Speedo International
Silent Night : Public Domain; Lyrics by Father Joseph Mohr; music by Franz Xaver Gruber
Chapter One
Donald lay in bed watching the snow fall past the window across the room. He positioned his hands under his head and groaned.
“One, two, thr—”
“Donald! It’s snowing again! Do you need to go back out and clean the front walk off?”
He shook his head when his mother’s voice trailed down the hall to him. “No, Ma! It hasn’t even been an hour since I shoveled the last time. It’s good for a while.”
“Okay!”
He waited a few minutes then closed his eyes.
“Donald, are you hungry?” his mother shouted. “I’m making lunch.”
He sighed. “No, Ma. I’m fine!”
It had been a while since Donald had stayed in his old room for a long visit. Usually when he came back to his parents’ house, it was only for a weekend a few times a year. For this visit, he would stay the whole month of December waiting on repairs to his apartment from a recent storm. Donald had moved out years ago when he’d left for college, but his room remained unchanged. Pictures of him as a boy still hung in their places on the walls, but the desk he used to do his homework on now held his laptop. It was relaxing, familiar and comforting… Home. With a sigh, he finally closed his eyes again.
“Donald!”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Yes, Mother?”
“What are you doing in there?”
“I’m trying to take a nap, Ma. Do you need something?”
“No, honey. Go ahead and take your nap.”
After several minutes, Donald let his eyelids shut. His breathing evened and he relaxed into the pillow.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself reclining on a beach. The heat of the midday sun warmed his skin. Donald crossed his bare legs and raised his arms over his head to stretch out, then he exhaled. He widened his smile as he checked out his surroundings. Three muscular guys in Speedos played volleyball just a few feet away. They paused in their game to smile back at him. He waved.
“You’re a sexy blond. Why don’t you join me?” Donald called.
The man and his friends ditched the ball and walked toward him. Two of the men stood behind Donald while the blond he’d called over sat on the lounge chair with him. Everyone touched him at once—his face, his chest and his cock. Donald closed his eyes and someone kissed him. The smoldering kiss awakened his dormant endorphins—hot, insistent and incredible. He had never been kissed like that before.
The blond man pinched one of Donald’s nipples while someone else sucked the other until they were ultra-sensitive pebbles. Someone stroked his dick through his shorts. Someone else played with his balls. His cock grew under their skilled hands, then the handsome man abruptly yanked his shorts off him. Donald gasped.
The third man, an attractive redhead, turned Don’s face, breaking the kiss only to take his mouth again. Donald panted into the new kiss, barely able to catch his breath. The redhead ran his fingers over Donald’s hair as he pushed Donald’s lips apart with his tongue. Battling for domination, the blond man pushed the flame-haired man away and regained control of the kiss, sucking on Donald’s tongue and pulling him closer. Donald’s heart pounded so hard it actually hurt in his chest. He was having a heart attack—he just knew it—but Donald prayed the men wouldn’t stop pleasuring him. His pending orgasm would be worth dying for. The third man used his hot, aggressive mouth to take Donald’s breath away, then he released Donald but only for a moment.
The striking ginger looked into his eyes and spoke softly. “Relax, Donald, we’re going to make you feel like you’ve never felt before. Don’t you think it’s about time?”
Oh God, yes! It is definitely time!
Donald nodded vigorously. It had been years since someone other than himself had gotten him off. He’d never believed that old wives’ tale that too much masturbation would make hair grow on your palms—although he did check his hands daily to make sure. There was nothing wrong with being safe.
After one more kiss on Donald’s lips, the soft-spoken blond volleyball player moved his mouth down Donald’s Adam’s apple, silencing Donald’s thoughts. Shifting to first one side of his throat then up the other, he left a trail of hot licks between each nibble. The men took turns sucking Donald’s neck and fingers while they attacked his nipples with their tongues. He loved it all, but almost screamed his joy as the blond beachgoer enveloped Donald’s cock in the warm, wet heat of his full-lipped mouth. Sweet sensation overwhelmed Donald, making his head spin. The pleasure built quickly within him. Everyone’s hands, lips and tongues seemed to be everywhere at once playing, teasing, tasting him—all in sync to br
ing him satisfaction.
Yes! I’m going to come—finally.
“Donald!”
The sound of his mother’s voice made the men disappear with a loud mental pop.
What the —?
“Donald!”
Donald snapped his eyes open and cold reality sank in. He was alone in his room, breathing hard, sweating—and with a raging hard-on.
“Damn.”
“Donald!”
With a frustrated groan, he rose from the bed. He looked down at his tenting pajama pants and rolled his eyes. At his dresser, he pulled out an oversized T-shirt to wear before he went into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“Yes, Ma, what do you need?”
“Oh, you didn’t have to get up. It can wait until after your nap.”
He chuckled to himself. “I’m up now, Ma. What do you need?”
“Well, sweetheart, could you go to the store and pick up the rest of the Christmas decorations?”
He frowned. “I thought Andie was going to do that?”
She flipped a sandwich in the frying pan. “She was, but they were short-handed at the hospital so she went in for a few hours of overtime.”
“Ma, you know I don’t like doing stuff like that. Decorating is not my forte.”
He realized he sounded whiny and, when his mother turned to him, the look she gave him clearly said, ‘Shut up, boy, you’re going anyway.’
“Andie made a list of the decorations she wants to put around the house. It’s on the coffee table.” She slid a plate in front of him. “Eat this then go. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I knew coming home was a bad idea,” he mumbled before taking a big bite.
After lunch, he dressed, donning his heavy coat and boots before heading out of the door. The snow fell at a steady pace, adding to the precipitation from a previous storm. The new layer covered the branches in fluffy whiteness. Everyone he passed on the street seemed to be in a pleasant mood. He returned their waves, smiles and all the ‘Merry Christmases’ he received.
The homes he passed were dressed in Christmas finery, unlike his mother’s house that only had blinking lights along the edges. Some lawns boasted a Santa, Mrs. Claus and the eight reindeer. Others had Frosty the Snowman and Jack Frost. Only one or two had gone the Biblical route, displaying a manger scene. The church put on a contest for the best decorated house. Each year homes were more and more elaborate. His mother had stopped participating in the contest a few years back. She no longer wanted the gift basket and bragging rights. It was a lot of work to display for only a month.
Donald turned onto Main Street. Bright holiday displays also covered many storefronts. Mini Christmas trees and blinking lights decorated the windows and red and gold wreaths hung on doors. He crossed the street to the variety store. It looked the same as he remembered it except for the seasonal changes, which were in abundance. He opened the door and the scent of warm cinnamon engulfed him. The stuff and whatever was in season at the time overflowed from baskets as he walked toward the back where the butcher was located.
Only the butcher, Mr. Brent, worked with Mr. Oxford to run the place, but he saw neither of them in the store. Donald recognized the music of Silent Night. He hummed and bobbed his head, then the blinking lights of the Christmas tree in the far corner caught his eye. He turned to it, scanning it slowly up and down. The tree was so tall the top bent forward at the ceiling and tiny bows instead of ornament balls hung from the tips of the branches. For a moment, he wondered if the lights were clear like the ones on his mother’s tree.
“I agree. It is a beautiful tree. All the different colored lights and the bright red bows against the dark green of the tree—beautiful.”
The voice was male, but didn’t belong to Mr. Oxford. Donald looked over his shoulder, giving the stranger a glance, then turned to the tree again to consider the man’s words. With his head cocked slightly to the right, he concentrated, trying to force his brain to see what the stranger saw, but he couldn’t. Although dark, the tree possessed no distinct color and the blinking lights appeared white to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and scoffed.
“Yeah, beautiful,” he said in monotone, walking away.
“Can I help you find something?” the stranger offered, following him.
Donald stopped and twisted to examine the face of the stranger. Donald had grown up in this town, but like most of his peers, he’d left Brownsville, Indiana, after high school to start his life in the city. He would never forget the kids he’d grown up with. When they’d found out he was different from them, they’d treated him like a leper and had gone out of their way to be cruel to him just for fun. As a boy, he’d hated them for it and had kept to himself throughout all his school years.
The man had a strong jaw line, sensual bow lips, a prominent nose and almond-shaped eyes. His wasn’t a face from Donald’s past. As Donald scrutinized him, the stranger smiled.
“So, are you looking for something in particular or for something to catch your eye?”
Donald thought he heard a double innuendo in his tone, but he was probably mistaken.
“Okay, if you’re not sure what you want, maybe we can just look around for a while?” the man continued.
Donald raised an eyebrow. “We?”
“Well, sometimes other decorations spark ideas in people. I thought I’d come with you to help if I could. But if you would prefer to be alone…”
Donald watched the man’s lips as he spoke and decided that his mouth was his best feature. When they stopped moving, he realized that the man wasn’t talking.
“Oh, um, no. That’s fine. You can come.”
He didn’t have many opportunities to meet men or to make friends—not in person anyway. The least he could do was be friendly. It was Christmas time after all. Owning a singles website gave him access to people’s personal profiles where they expressed their wants and desires. He wanted a lot of what they were all looking for too.
Once he had posted his own profile under a fake name, thinking that meeting people online would be easy since they wanted the same things. He had been wrong. The conversations turned out to be a bunch of lies. People always asked him to describe himself so they could get a mental picture. That was something he couldn’t do in detail. Small talk would continue, consisting of ‘Where do you live?’, ‘What do you do?’, ‘What do you like?’—all of which he couldn’t tell without giving away his identity as the owner of the site. The only upside to chatting online was that he didn’t have to worry about being tongue-tied and looking like a fool around handsome men. Eventually, he’d pulled the profile down in frustration.
The handsome stranger began to look impatient as he waited for Donald to say something. Nervousness built in Donald, but he kept it under wraps long enough to dig into his pocket to hand over his list. The man took the list and nodded.
“Oh yes, I have all this stuff. Most of it is along the back wall. Let me grab a carrier for you.”
Donald watched him walk away. He could tell the guy’s body was well made by the way the sweater clung to his broad shoulders and wide back, his gait steady and confident. This was the kind of man who didn’t need a site like his www.I’mlookingforyou.com to get a date. Women most likely threw themselves at him. He returned from the counter with a circular basket and walked along the back wall. When the man stopped, he nodded for Donald to come to him.
“All the bulbs are in these baskets. We have several colors and shapes for you to choose from. The tinsel is in the blue baskets on the end of this row and the hanging reindeer are there.” He pointed at each one in turn then looked over his shoulder. “The mistletoe, however, is over there in that red basket next to the holly.” He gave Donald an exaggerated wink, handed him the basket then turned to leave.
Donald questioned the meaning of the man’s action but dismissed it again. He looked in the direction the man had indicated. There were three baskets filled what looked like broken twigs, smaller branches mixed with pebbles a
nd hay. He had no clue which one held the mistletoe. Donald released a slow breath then touched the guy’s arm before he could go far.
“Which basket did you say the mistletoe was in?”
The man furrowed his brow in obvious confusion. “The mistletoe is in the red basket next to the holly,” he repeated.
Donald drooped his shoulders and averted his eyes. “What I meant to say was could you just point to the basket with the mistletoe.”
The worker narrowed his eyes as he turned, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Are you telling me you can’t see that red basket right over there?” he said, jerking his head to the right.
Donald heard the sarcasm in the man’s voice. It inflamed his anger instantly. “I can see the basket just fine,” he replied through gritted teeth.
The man studied Donald’s face for long moments then gasped. His features softened and he dropped his arms to his sides. The compassion Donald saw in his eyes erased his anger.
“What?” Donald asked.
“You can’t tell which basket is red, can you?”
Donald stiffened at the astute assessment. He usually kept his color blindness to himself because of the way people acted when they found out. This man was already acting differently than most people did. His voice had been soft, almost a whisper, when he’d asked his question and his tone had held amazement instead of pity or annoyance. He didn’t back away from Donald in frustration but stepped closer. A smile touched his lips as he took the basket from Donald and walked down the aisle. He reached into the middle bin and scooped out a handful of twigs.
“How much mistletoe do you need?”
At first, Donald stood there staring at him. When his shock finally eased, he found his voice.