by E. Davies
The crackling log fire in Tag’s stove is music to my wet, freezing cold ears. We pull off our wet outer layers, and though I’m tempted to keep going, I match Tag and stop after the socks come off. For now.
“Not that I’m commenting on the oral hygiene of your dog, but I’m going to wash my face,” I inform Tag. “Where’s the downstairs bathroom?” I only know the top floor of the house.
When he’s done laughing, he points me to it and I excuse myself for a quick splash of warm water and hand soap. I’ve never been so thoroughly mauled in my life. But despite Queenie’s exuberance, I love being around the man and his dog.
It feels like I fit just right into their life—as they do into mine. It’s fun. I feel light and relaxed and happy. And despite the chill in my bones, my heart is full to bursting at the prospect of cuddling up on the couch by a log fire on a snowy winter’s day.
“Hot chocolate?” Tag greets me when I emerge. He’s got mugs and a milk carton on the counter.
“Ooooh, you are spoiling me. Yes, please.”
“Find yourself a seat, but I recommend against the armchair. Prepare to be invaded.”
“Like, in the butt?” I grin, looking over my shoulder as I pad across the hardwood floor to the lounge.
Tag drops the spoon on the ground, then curses and bends to scoop it up. His cheeks are red when he straightens up again and grunts at me. “You know what I meant.”
“I hope I do.” I bite my lip hard to keep myself from laughing, but I take his advice and steer away from the armchair. Instead, I settle on the couch in front of the fire.
I expect a damp Queenie to join me, but to my relief she’s looking perfectly innocent in her fluffy dog bed next to the fireplace. She’s napping and drying off from her adventures.
“Good girl,” I murmur and earn a sleepy tail thump. She cracks her eyes, probably checking if there are treats with those words. When she sees there aren’t, she goes back to sleep.
A sleek knitted blanket is folded on the back of the couch, so I pull it down to wrap half around my shoulders, leaving the other half for when Tag joins me.
It’s a beautiful house, and the living room is no exception. Tag isn’t the stereotypical bachelor with bare light bulbs and a couple of mismatched throw pillows. No, he’s taken his time to make this place feel like home.
The floor is hardwood, and the coffee table is a light wood with curved legs that matches the dining room furniture on the other side of the armchairs. Light pours in from outside through the windows, framed by floor to ceiling curtains.
Exposed dark wood beams overhead lead my eye to the flatscreen TV mounted on the wall opposite the couch, and I hide a smile. Okay, a little bit of a bachelor, then.
“Here we go.” Tag sits next to me carefully, holding a big blue mug of steaming hot chocolate in each hand. I grab coasters for him to set them both on the coffee table. “Careful,” he warns. “The mugs are hot, too.”
I brush my fingertips along the ceramic and yelp. “It’ll warm me up, though.”
“No, here. I’ll help you,” Tag offers, pulling my hands into his again and cupping them gently. “And you won’t even get burned.”
I can’t quite breathe for a moment. Every time Tag touches me, my world flips upside down and my whole world seems to point to him. My gaze flicks up to his face. “Promise?” I whisper.
His Adam’s apple bobs. He’s slow to meet my look. When he finally does, there’s that familiar wall—the part of him that he doesn’t want me to see.
I wish I could figure him out. He’s so generous, welcoming me to his time and life. Yet he’s holding back, too, like he isn’t quite ready for all the promises I want to make.
It has only been a week, but time doesn’t matter. The moment I saw him, I knew he was the one. Time simply gives you more memories to share.
I want this to work, and I’m ready to let go of all my fears. I might have been more shy at the beginning, but now I’m the one pushing him. I just hope he’s ready to be pushed.
“Yeah,” Tag murmurs after a moment, like he missed the meaning that we both know perfectly well he understood. Then he stops rubbing my hands and leans forward to wrap his palms around the mug.
I don’t like the silence between us, so I wait for him to put down the mug again and then stick my toes against his bare feet.
That lightens the mood. “Hey!” Tag yelps, playing a kind of reverse footsie where I scramble into his lap to pursue his feet as he tries to keep them away from me.
More importantly, it gets me into his lap. The blood stirs from head to toe as I shift my weight, swinging my other knee over his leg to catch my balance. “Hi there yourself.”
Tag beams at me. “Well, look at this. I’ve got a lapful of cutie, and he isn’t going to slobber on me.”
“Tsch.” I click my tongue. “Now, I never promised that. In fact, I had every intention to the contrary.”
Tag narrows his eyes like he’s hopeful that I mean what he thinks. “Huh?”
I bite my lip and widen my eyes, flicking my lashes as I look him up and down. The insides of my thighs tingle where they make contact with his lap. My hands are resting on his broad shoulders, but I let them slip down to his chest.
“Oh,” Tag whispers, his voice strained. His hands slowly rise to my waist. “I think we’re on the same page.”
“I’ve been daydreaming about you for days.” I love having Tag here, pinned down under me, even though I know he could effortlessly flip me over if he wanted to. He stays perfectly still, letting me explore his chest with my fingertips.
I sweep my palms around the ripples of his pecs and abs without any particular goal—at least, until my thumbs catch his nipples.
Tag grunts and squeezes his eyes closed, his lips falling open as he trembles under me.
“You like that?” I whisper. I love finding out what makes him tick. It’s not just about getting him naked; I’m going take my time to explore every inch of his body.
This time, I take more care to circle my thumbs around the nubs of his nipples that poke through his tight, black shirt.
“Yes,” Tag manages. His nails dig into my waist, like he wants to pull me against him and grind into me.
I wonder if I can torment him into doing it. A grin spreads across my face, and I slide my hands down to his waist before making my way under his shirt.
His bare skin against my palms is a delightful feast. Hot, smooth, and perfect.
“Cold,” Tag mumbles, but he’s not pushing me away or protesting. His voice is a breathy moan, and the bulge in his pants is bigger than ever. I lick my lips, resisting the temptation to scoot closer and push my aching cock against his.
I catch my breath, pushing the fabric up his belly with my fingers. “But good?”
“Very,” Tag whispers. “We’ll see if I—agh!”
I’ve found his nipples. Two of my fingertips brush against one nipple and then the other, making him arch off the couch as a strangled cry falls from his lips.
Oh, fuck, that’s hot.
“If you like it now?” I innocently whisper. “I take it that’s a yes.”
Tag mumbles something that sounds like a swear word, his head tipped back to bare his throat. Every muscle in his body trembles and pulls tight.
I grin and pinch the nubs carefully between my fingertips, experimentally rolling them. Everything I do seems to turn Tag on, which turns me on. His shirt keeps getting in the way, though.
“Get this off,” I mumble, fumbling with the hem. Tag chuckles and raises his arms to help me yank it off, all the way up his strong arms to his wrists. Then he throws it aside and sprawls under me again, shirtless and gorgeous.
He’s looking at me again with those deep, soulful eyes. “You like what you see?”
I nod so hard that Tag snorts with laughter. Then I spread my knees and wiggle backward on his lap a little so that I can bend over and kiss him.
Oh, God, it’s incredible. I know he’s snu
ck a taste of the hot chocolate because I can taste it on his mouth, a sweet burst across my tongue. His lips are soft and warm, and utterly addictive.
I’m tingling from head to toe by the time I pull away to catch my breath. My world spins as heat burns straight to the tips of my toes. I won’t be cold for much longer.
“I’ve never sucked a cock before, but I’ve always wanted to.” The words leave my mouth before I even think about them. But I’m too turned on to be embarrassed.
“Do you want me to show you how it’s done?” Tag’s voice rumbles, low and sexy, and I might just die of arousal. “For what it’s worth, I’m tested and negative. And I assume…”
I chuckle sheepishly. “Yeah, you’re the first guy I’ve been with. So I assume that’s fine.”
“Mmhmm. Sexy little virgin,” Tag murmurs, his eyes focused and hungry. “I like sucking dick without a condom. What do you say?”
My whole body surges with a fresh wave of pleasure, my aching cock pressing against the front of my damp jeans. Why did I wear jeans for a snow date, anyway? I know better.
“Yes,” I gasp. “If you get me out of these wet clothes, you can do anything you want.”
Tag chuckles. “An offer I can’t resist.” He yanks my sweater and shirt off at the same time, hauling all the fabric up and over my head without hesitation.
I catch his shoulders for balance when my torso is laid bare, but Tag isn’t wasting time. His warm fingertips trail over my belly until I giggle and squirm with the burst of ticklish sensation that strikes me. Then he yanks open the button and slides down the zipper on my jeans.
I brace myself on his shoulders as I stand up, wriggling while he hauls the denim down and off.
“Oh, God, that feels better,” I groan, kicking them off at last. The warm air from the fireplace touches my bare skin. Heat settles into me from the outside as well as the inside: I’m burning up with need for him.
I’m still in my underwear, but I don’t know for how much longer. Tag pulls me to sit down next to him, and then he slithers to the floor on his knees in front of me.
“Oh,” I squeak, quivering from head to toe. Holy fuck. I’ve imagined this every night since my daring office exploits, but it’s so much better in real life.
Just gazing down the length of my body at Tag makes me swell in my underwear, my whole body tightening.
Tag’s gaze flicks up and down my body, lingering on the distinctive line of my shaft. “Fuck, you’re hot.”
“Please,” I whisper. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’m going to go crazy if he teases me and draws it out.
Tag smiles, warm and genuine and caring. His hand gently runs up the outside of my thigh and over my hip, and then his fingers close around my nipple and do something that makes my whole body surge to life with a lightning strike.
“Fuuuck!” I whimper, arching off the couch.
Tag takes advantage, and his thumbs slip into the waistband of my underwear. He yanks them down and off, lifting one of my feet out. Then he slips between my thighs again, leaving me to kick them off the other ankle.
He’s busy kissing a trail up from the inside of my knee, igniting nerves I had no idea existed. My cock is flat against my stomach now, flushed and hard and begging for attention.
The tip of his tongue trails up my thigh as heat pulsates through me, insistent and raw. I gasp for breath, grabbing the back of the couch cushions.
Then Tag stops, his lips on the hollow of the inside of my thigh. Just inches away from my shaft, where all the heat in my body seems to pool. I need him, need him so badly he doesn’t understand.
“You like that?” Tag murmurs.
All I can manage is a strangled cry, half protest and half plea. Even his knowing chuckle makes my toes curl into the floor.
“All right. I was going to take my time and lick every inch of you. Your nipples…” Tag’s hand rises, his fingertips flicking quickly across one of them, making my body draw tight with a sudden flush of heat. “Your belly… your lips…”
“No,” I grunt with all my might. “Now.” I manage to crack my eyes open and gaze down at him again, glaring.
Tag grins and finally takes mercy. He brushes the backs of his fingers along my shaft, and it jumps under his touch. He chuckles again, curling his hand around it.
At last, the desperation settles into a steady flush of manageable heat. I can try to make this last.
But then he leans in, wrapping his hot lips around the head, and wet heat engulfs me. I whimper again, choking out my ecstasy while the tip of his tongue circles around my sensitive skin.
This is going to be embarrassingly quick. It’s a hundred times better than I’d daydreamed.
I can’t stop staring as he wraps his sensual lips around me and takes me into his mouth. The soft heat of his tongue flickers along the underside of my shaft, and then the head of my cock slips into his tight throat.
Holy shit, this is amazing.
As I whimper and quiver under his hands, Tag’s gaze flickers up to me. Then he sucks in his cheeks, and suddenly the heat around me is unbearably tight in the best way possible.
Tag pulls back until his mouth engulfs just the tip of my cock. Then he curls his fingers around the base of my shaft and bobs his head again until his lips touch his fingers.
Every inch of me is squeezing tight as I gasp raggedly for breath. “Yes,” I manage at last. “More.”
He knows exactly what I mean. He bobs his head quickly, gulping my cock over and over in a quick, relentless rhythm. The wet sounds and the vibrations of pleasure through every nerve as his lips drag across the velvety skin of my shaft… that would be almost enough to send me over the edge.
But the sight is what really does it. His cheeks are flushed, his gaze focused so tenderly on my cock like it’s the tastiest thing he’s ever known.
I stare hungrily down at him. I’ve entrusted him with my pleasure, but this is more than pleasure. It’s ecstasy, and I can’t stop it. I should try to draw it out, but I’m losing control.
My hips rise as my whole body draws tight, and I try to choke out a warning. I scrabble at his shoulders frantically. But Tag doesn’t heed me. He just swallows me to the back of his throat, his other hand running up my front to play with my nipples again.
He wants to swallow. Oh, God!
That realization propels me over the edge hard and fast until I’m flailing in midair. I buck uncontrollably, every muscle going tight at once.
Heat floods through my shaft, spilling into Tag’s mouth. I can’t look away as he takes my load, sucking his mouth tight around the head of my shaft. The wet noises as he swallows and laps at my slit for more are so fucking hot.
I whimper, scrabbling at his shoulders as he wrings out every droplet of pleasure before I finally start to go limp. I sprawl helplessly on the couch, my muscles utterly wrung out.
Tag finally pulls away and wipes his mouth. “Thank you for bringing dessert.”
I raise my hands to my face as I giggle so hard I can’t breathe. He’s ridiculous, and it should sound corny, but it’s strangely hot at the same time. Maybe it’s the boldness with which he says it.
“Your turn?” I whisper. “It might take me a minute to… function…” I can’t imagine having any kind of coordination right now.
Tag just smiles and shakes his head as he rises to sit next to me on the couch. “Next time,” he promises. “Now you know how it’s done.”
“I don’t know if I do,” I laugh, curling into him and pulling my knees up so I can wriggle into his lap again. I fling my arms around his shoulders and bury my nose in his neck. “But thank you.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure,” Tag chuckles softly. His arms snake around me, and I relax into his strong hold.
I can’t imagine a more perfect snow day, or a more perfect man to share it with. Whatever lies in store for us, it’s worth it just to catch a glimpse of the devotion on Tag’s face.
It’s one thing to hear him te
ll me how he feels, but it’s another to see it for myself and feel it in every gentle caress and tender moment of intimacy. I’m ready for a future filled with these moments.
Meeting my family tomorrow doesn’t seem so scary anymore. Nor does the poetry night. I can do anything with Tag by my side.
20
Tag
“So how long ago did you move here? Pass the potatoes, please?”
I quickly grab the bowl of mashed potatoes and set it in front of… my brain flails for a moment before her name comes to me: Lily. She’s married to Elijah, the oldest brother and the lawyer.
It’s a lot of people to meet all at once, but I’ve memorized all their names and faces. It’s weird to be using all the skills I developed in meet-and-greets while desperately hiding the source of that very talent.
Caleb’s parents and all three of his older brothers are there, along with their wives. Of course they’re all happy newlyweds. Poor Caleb must feel adrift as the only single one here.
Well, sorta-kinda-single now. We haven’t talked about labels yet, but I hope we will… as long as I pass this test with flying colors. I’m doing everything I can to impress them, from my best table manners to all the small talk about goings-on in Burlington.
“Four years,” I tell Lily as I pick up my fork again. “Bought a farmhouse out here.”
“Yeah, the place up by the creek? Lily and I looked at that,” Eli interjects. “Looked like it needed work.”
I laugh and groan theatrically. “You bet it did. Totally worth it, though. It was such a beautiful old place.”
“It looks really nice now,” Caleb meekly interjects.
“Thanks.” I glance across the table at him with a little smile. I’m glad to hear him say anything at all. He’s been very quiet so far tonight. Is this how he always is around them, or is it because I’m here?
Caleb smiles briefly and then looks at his plate again. I wish he were sitting next to me so I could squeeze his hand reassuringly. See? I want to tell him. It’s all going fine.
“And you run that winery, Silver Crown? How’s that going?” Caleb’s father, Luke, asks.