Gifting Dylan: A Blooming Desire Holiday Novella

by Anders Grey

  Dylan reached down to stroke my hair, the same way I’d done for him, and I felt my chest tighten with affection. To be praised in the middle of a sex act was oddly comforting. It inspired me to do my best, so I took the plunge—I parted my lips and wrapped them around Dylan’s cock.

  He let out a soft moan. The sound made my spine tingle. The taste wasn’t as unpleasant as I’d been imagining. I took his cock in deeper, careful not to gag. But all my apprehension flew out the window when Dylan kept making louder, more obscene moans. He almost sounded like someone in a porno, but his pleasure was one hundred percent genuine and raw.

  Tentatively, I reached up to cup his balls. Dylan gasped when I held them in my palm. I felt them tighten, and his cock twitched in my mouth. Knowing I was the one to pleasure him this deeply made me feel smug.

  I tried doing the same things he’d done with his tongue—swirling, licking up against the shaft, sucking harder. Within minutes Dylan was mewling and squirming against the wall.

  My cock was hard again, too. I’d never felt so happy to make my partner feel good before. What the hell was Dylan doing to me?

  “Fuck.” Dylan moaned. “Nash…”

  Hearing him say my name in that cracked, lust-filled voice made my cock ache. My hand flew down to hastily jerk myself off.

  “Gonna cum soon,” Dylan murmured. “Lemme pull out.”

  But I wouldn’t let him. I sucked harder, determined to finish the job. Dylan let out a sharp cry. A moment later his body tensed and twitched. A rush of hot, bitter cum landed on the back of my tongue. I didn’t even care about the taste because as soon as Dylan pulled out, I was coming again. I swallowed Dylan’s load while the second orgasm ripped through me. It felt dirty and obscene and so fucking satisfying. The best sex of my life, and it was a pair of casual blowjobs in my front hallway.

  Dylan’s slid down, joining me on the floor. Both of us were breathless and blushing. He met my eyes and started to laugh.

  “Well, how was it?” he asked.

  “Good,” I decided. “Oh, and by the way, we’re definitely doing that again sometime.”

  8

  Dylan

  As the sex haze wore off, I remembered something extremely important. I sat upright with a jolt.

  “Oh, shit,” I said. “The tree.”

  “Right. The tree.” Nash glanced down at our lower halves, which were both naked from the waist down. He sighed. “I’m guessing you can’t wave your hand and make magical Santa elves carry the tree inside for us, can you?”

  “I wish.” I got up and yanked my clothes back on. “Unfortunately, we have to be big boys and put pants on.”

  “Fuck.”

  The cold winter air was refreshingly crisp on my flushed cheeks. I inhaled a deep lungful of the clean air. Meanwhile, Nash looked like a wet cat—grumpy and wishing he were anywhere but here.

  “Remind me how you roped me into this again?” Nash mumbled as we hauled out the tree from the back of my truck.

  I batted my eyelashes at him. “With my charm and humor and good looks.”

  He grunted and flinched as a pine needle nearly jabbed him in the eye. “Nope. You must have drugged my candy cane sparkle whatever-the-fuck drink.”

  I snickered. Even though I’d melted Nash down enough to admit he liked me, he was still determined to be a cantankerous holiday-hater. But I knew I’d change his mind about that, too. There was still plenty of time.

  With the tree safely inside the living room, I helped set up the base and did all the necessary things while Nash watched with suspicious confusion.

  “The tree’s not gonna bite, you know,” I said.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Have you seen those needles? They’re fucking sharp. You put a giant pointy safety hazard in my house.”

  I laughed and gestured to Sheba, who was wagging her tail curiously at the tree. She probably assumed was a big new toy.

  “You already own a pointy safety hazard, if you haven’t noticed,” I said. “Except Sheba has four legs and fur and doesn’t smell like pine. Now go grab the rest of those boxes.”

  Nash grumbled but didn’t argue. We opened them together and I noticed he was a bit more enthusiastic about it this time. For all his surliness, I could tell he was having at least a tiny bit of fun.

  “More baubles to put in bowls?” Nash asked, picking up a golden sphere and glaring at it.

  “No. These ones you put on the tree. Like this.” I hung the bauble on a mid-level branch. “See how pretty it is?”

  “It’s all right,” Nash mumbled.

  “Now you do it,” I suggested. “Half the fun of owning a tree is decorating it.”

  With his classic crotchety frown, he stood and began picking through the box. While he put up the baubles, I picked up a small box and carefully opened it. I smiled at the contents.

  Nash notice and peered over. “What’s in that one?”

  “It’s my family’s personal collection.” I smiled gently and showed him. Inside the box were about two dozen small, handcrafted ceramic figurines. There were angels, Santas, reindeer, and of course, a little golden retriever. Nash glanced back and forth between me and the box.

  “These have more sentimental value than the others, don’t they?” he asked slowly.

  “Yeah.” I blinked. “How did you know?”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because you have this dreamy look on your face. Like you’re sad and happy at the same time.”

  I blushed. “I do?”

  Nash snorted and gently pinched my cheek. “Yeah.”

  I rubbed where he’d pinched me, feeling myself blush even harder. “I guess I’m crap at hiding my emotions,” I said with a chuckle. “But yeah, you’re right. My family has been using these ornaments since I was a kid.”

  I pulled out an old one—my name written in uneven red and green bubble letters. It was chipped at the edges and looked amateurish. I wiggled it at him with a grin. “Can you guess who made this?”

  “You?”

  “Yeah. Six-year-old Dylan was a pro at sculpting, as you can see.”

  Nash chuckled. “Still better than what I could do now.”

  He held his hand out. I placed the ugly thing in his palm, and he put it near the top of the tree, right in full view.

  “Oh, you don’t have to put it up,” I said.

  Nash immediately looked embarrassed. “Oh. Sorry, I forgot you probably want these for your own tree at home…”

  He reached up to take it back down, but I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

  “Ah, don’t bother,” I said. “I don’t have a tree up at home right now.”

  “You? Christmas loving Dylan?” Nash gaped.

  I rubbed my arm. “I, uh, actually didn’t put one up this year. My family’s all overseas this year. They’re spending time with my brother and his new fiancée, who lives in France.”

  Nash furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

  I glanced over at Barley, who had curled up next to Sheba in the same giant dog bed. The sight of them together made me smile.

  “My dog sitter fell through at the last minute,” I told him. “She had a family emergency, and I couldn’t find anyone else since everywhere is booked for the holidays way in advance. I didn’t feel comfortable putting Barley in a kennel, so I stayed behind with her.”

  “Oh…” Sympathy warmed Nash’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dylan.”

  I shrugged and tried to smile. “It’s okay. That’ll teach me to have a back-up ready next year.”

  Nash suddenly gave me a hug. He wrapped his arms around my back and rubbed soothing circles. I blinked tears out of my eyes. I didn’t even realize I’d gotten so emotional.

  When Nash pulled away, I immediately missed his warmth.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

  “No. Please don’t be.” I smiled, feeling like a weight had been lifted off my chest. “Thanks. I think I needed that.”

  He gave me
a small, shy smile back. “Anyway. The things we do for our dogs, right?”

  “You said it.” I nodded at the dogpile. Sheba and Barley were fast asleep, side by side. “Look at those two. I’m serious, Nash. I think they’re in love. Do you think we could get the local news to run a story about lesbian dogs?”

  He snorted. “No. But I do think you can help me put those decorations up.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised. “You don’t mind that they’re my family’s things?”

  “Of course not. Besides, this is as much your tree as it is mine. Go wild.”

  “Aww, Nash.” I grinned. “You’re secretly a big sap, aren’t you?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Yes, you are,” I insisted.

  I teasingly rubbed my cheek on him like an affectionate dog. He sighed and gave me a pat on the head.

  “Now put up the ornaments, Christmas elf,” Nash ordered.

  When the figurines were all hung up, nestled in between the baubles, we stepped back from the tree and admired our handiwork.

  “I think it looks great,” I exclaimed. “Even with 6-year-old Dylan’s ugly decoration on it.”

  “In my opinion, that’s the best part. It’s clearly a work of fine art.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  He smirked. “That’s up for you to decide.”

  “Didn’t I tell you Santa doesn’t like boys who lie?” I teased. “You’re gonna get a big fat lump of coal.”

  “Santa’s not the one who blew me earlier, so frankly, I don’t care about his opinion,” Nash replied.

  I half-groaned and half-laughed. “Please don’t talk about Santa and blowjobs in the same sentence.”

  9

  Nash

  Dylan still hadn’t kissed me.

  He’d told me to wait, so I did. In all honesty, it was nice just spending time with him. The sex we had earlier was smoking hot, of course, but even just being in his presence was enjoyable. Without realizing it, we’d spent the whole day just hanging out, talking about everything and nothing. It wasn’t until the sharp, golden slants of the setting sun cut across the snow outside that I noticed how late it was.

  Dylan noticed me gazing out the window. “Are you thinking about what I said earlier?” he asked. When I nodded, he said, “Because I am, too. I was just thinking we should get ready to go.”

  “Where exactly are we going?” I raised a brow. “Or is this another one of your mystery adventures and I won’t know what horrors await me until I get there?”

  “Exactly.” He grinned.

  I sighed. “You should be glad you’re cute. Otherwise you’d be intolerable.”

  “You know you love me.”

  I paused. Was that an invitation to say yes, I do? I held my tongue, paralyzed by indecision. I cared about Dylan, but wasn’t this too soon? Or was I just afraid of my own feelings?

  Dylan didn’t seem to notice my hesitation. He’d let the words roll off his tongue casually, apparently not realizing the effect they had on me. He got up and stretched. Barley joined in, and then Sheba. Apparently, they were ready for action, too. They had been cooped up inside all day.

  “Put on something warm,” Dylan told me. He winked. “Maybe a hot pair of tights beneath your pants.”

  “Sorry if you’re into that, but I don’t own tights.”

  He mock-sighed. “Then this relationship will never work out…”

  My smile faded as I bit my lip. Hesitation laced my voice. “Are we in a relationship?”

  Dylan shot me his signature easygoing smile. “Aren’t we? I did promise not to make other people cum, after all. Just you.”

  “That’s a crude way of looking at it,” I quipped.

  He chuckled and took my hand. “Then how about… boyfriends?”

  The hesitation flared up within me again. A mental barrier shunted itself between my emotions and my mouth, stopping me from saying what I really meant.

  “I—”

  A sudden barking from the front hall interrupted. We leapt apart and I ran to the door. Sheba was barking, and Barley joined in the chorus even though this wasn’t her house because, why not?

  I noticed Dylan grinning, but when I looked at him he tried to hide it. I raised an accusatory brow at him.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He nodded pointedly at the door. “You should answer that, though.”

  Thoroughly confused, I shushed Sheba. The dogs backed off and I opened the door to reveal a cheerful looking man in a Santa costume.

  “Ho ho ho! Is this the home of Nash McPherson?” he asked in a voice so jolly it felt like a TV commercial come to life.

  “Er, yes, I’m him,” I said.

  The man reached into the red velvet bag he was holding and pulled out a ridiculously big candy cane. It had an elaborate ribbon with a tag attached to it. My name was written in cursive on the tag. My eyes widened as the man handed it to me.

  “There you go! Candygram from your secret admirer.” He winked and gave me a wave before toddling off the front porch.

  Still holding the massive candy cane, I turned to Dylan with my jaw dropped.

  “Surprise?” Dylan said, grinning.

  “Did you do this?”

  “Who else?” He fake-glared. “If you have any other secret admirers, I’ll fight them.”

  I was so taken aback by the ridiculous situation that I had to laugh. “I can’t believe you. No one’s ever done something so stupidly sweet for me. When the hell did you even have time to set this up?”

  “I pulled a few strings,” he said coyly. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Also known as, I hid my phone from you and used an app to order a candygram with express delivery.”

  I sighed happily. “You are something else.”

  Dylan linked his arm with mine. “And that’s not all. The night’s still young, you know.” In a hushed voice, he added, “And we’ve still yet to have our first kiss.”

  My cheeks flooded with heat and I felt the blush spreading all the way to my ears. It was at that moment I realized I was dangerously close to being head-over-heels for the damn guy.

  With me sitting shotgun and the dogs loaded up in the backseat, Dylan took off.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re gonna take the long way,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “That’s it? No complaints? I’m shocked.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I trust you to lead me somewhere ridiculous and weird that I would never go otherwise.”

  The roads were dark, illuminated only by streetlamps and the reflection of their light off the white snow. But soon, Dylan entered a neighborhood I didn’t recognize. My eyes slowly widened. On every side of us were the most colorful Christmas light displays I’d ever seen. There were animals and people, and classic Christmas scenes all made of lights. Everything was so beautiful and bright that it almost didn’t seem dark outside.

  “Whoa,” I murmured.

  “You like?” Dylan asked. “This place is known for their elaborate light displays. My parents always drove us through this place as a kid. It’s kind of a tradition now, so I’m sharing it with you.”

  I blushed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” Dylan smiled. “Just enjoy.”

  We drove in comfortable silence. Since there was no traffic, Dylan slowed the truck down so we could fully appreciate the scenes. I found myself smiling with childlike wonder, and I didn’t try to hide it.

  At the end of the street was a courtyard square. He parked and we hopped out. With a dog leash in each hand, we entered the courtyard. The charming cobblestone pathways were covered with a dusting of snow. Festive ribbons coiled around the old-style iron lamps lighting the way. The little shops snuggled on either side of the path were all decked out in lights and other festive décor.

  Dylan reached over and took my hand. I smiled as his warmth seeped into me.

  “What is this place?” I asked.r />
  “It’s a little Christmas village,” Dylan replied. “My parents used to bring us here as kids, too. Back then it seemed like a place right out of a fairytale or something.”

  “It does have that kind of vibe,” I admitted.

  “Wow, no smarmy remark about it being a tourist trap?” Dylan remarked.

  I shook my head. The place was genuinely magical. Or maybe it felt that way because Dylan was here with me.

  Dylan led me along through the quaint, snowy square. Everywhere I looked there was a new delight for my eyes—toys in windows, ice sculptures, hell, there was even a reindeer petting zoo.

  “Are those real?” I asked, gawking at the beasts.

  “Sure are. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

  Dylan landed me Barley’s leash and went to ask the petting zoo attendant for something. He returned a moment later and dropped a handful of pellets in my hand.

  “Reindeer chow,” he said.

  I huffed a laugh. “Of course.”

  The dogs sniffed curiously at the fence separating them and the massive furry reindeer. They smelled like horses and hay. Dylan thrust out his palm and a reindeer approached him casually before sucking up the pellets in his hand.

  “It tickles.” He chuckled.

  I did the same, though a bit more tentatively. The reindeer put its soft, velvety nose against my hand and scooped up the food with a snort.

  “It does tickle,” I agreed. “And now my hand’s all dirty.”

  Dylan snickered. “Just wipe it on some snow.”

  I scoffed and pulled a tissue out of my pocket. “I’m not a caveman like you.”

  “Your loss.” Dylan leaned down, grabbed a handful of snow as if to clean his hand, and then—

  Threw it at me.

  “Hey!” I cried.

  Dylan took off laughing, daring me to chase him. Of course, since I was attached to two dogs who loved chasing anything that moved, I had the speed advantage. Sheba and Barley practically gave me whiplash as they ran towards Dylan. But he was surprisingly fast. He darted through the familiar village.