Bryce was smiling again when he kissed me, but it wasn’t teasing this time. His mouth and tongue and hands got busy enough that I forgot where we were until my shirt was on the floor.
His teeth were doing amazing things to my nipple, and I hated like hell to interrupt, but when he unzipped my pants, I stepped back.
“Where are you going?”
“Upstairs?”
Bryce shook his head. In two steps he’d dragged me with him to the couch. “Here.”
I didn’t have to ask why. Bryce murmured the answer between his mouth’s assault on my neck and jaw. “Want to do it. In front of. The tree.”
Now I was grinning. “You’re a closet romantic.”
“Not really a secret. You’ve seen my trailer.”
Being addicted to comfort and wanting to have sex in the light of a Christmas tree were two different things, but with Bryce’s mouth gently biting my belly, I didn’t want to argue that. When he tore off his own shirt, I remembered why this was a problem though.
“The house is full of people.”
“It’s two in the morning. And they’re all over eighteen.” Bryce stood up and shucked off his jeans and boxers. Between my mouth watering and my dick trying to find its own way out of my briefs, I forgot what I’d been worried about.
“Mel.” Bryce put his hands on the waistband of my pants. “Stop worrying.”
Easy for him to say. It wasn’t one of his siblings that could come down for a glass of milk and end up with a free porn show.
I swallowed and kicked my pants free, then toed off my socks.
Bryce was smiling when he stretched out next to me. “I swear, you think so hard I can almost see the words pop up over your head, like you’re a cartoon character.”
As Bryce started to slide down my body, a thought so big it would have taken up a full cartoon panel jarred me into half-sitting. He looked up, smiled and rolled off the couch. As unconcerned as if he always walked around naked in my house, he strolled off to the bathroom and came back with two towels.
“See,” he said as he put one across the seat cushions. “I could read that one.”
I thought we’d pick up where we left off, and since that had been with his mouth heading for my dick, I didn’t have a problem with that. Instead, he kissed me, long and hard and a little sloppy, scooping me up to straddle his lap. Standing, we were almost equal in height, so I had to scrunch down to keep kissing him, a shift that lined our dicks up so perfectly I wondered if he planned the move precisely for that purpose.
“What now?” Bryce broke off the kiss, shifting his grip from my hips to the sides of my head.
“Thought you could read the bubble.”
“Nope. Just know it’s there.”
How well could he know me? We’d spent time together, meals, watching baseball games from his trailer’s satellite—since I’d lied about being named after the baseball slugger—and shared a bed almost every night over those two months, but it had been almost three years ago.
One hand dragged along my jaw. “Know how to pop it too.” He slid one long finger into my mouth.
I sucked. Heat flooded my groin, through my ass, a hot, hard throb right to the tip of my dick. It wasn’t only having his skin in my mouth, though once the wet wool flavor from his glove was gone, I loved the taste of him. It was why he wanted me to coat that finger with spit, the easy assurance in the way he slid it in and out of my mouth, the promise in the way he watched me.
I lifted up onto my knees as he used one hand to hold my ass open and worked his slick finger inside. A burn and a sting as my body adjusted, then his finger curved and twisted, and I couldn’t stop the satisfied grunt that slipped by my lips. The smiles we buried in each other’s shoulders hit at the same time, and Bryce chuckled.
“I’m that amusing?” I lifted my head.
“You’re sure as hell not boring.”
He started to fuck me with his finger, and I dropped my head to his shoulder again. The sensations spilling out from where his knuckle was rubbing inside felt good enough to leave me dizzy, a sweet burn like a shot of schnapps. Having someone to laugh with felt almost as good. It might have been at least three months since I’d gotten laid, but it had been a lot longer than that since I’d shared so many smiles.
“Yeah,” Bryce whispered and for a second I wondered if he had followed my thoughts.
That was a little scary to contemplate so I leaned in to kiss him, thumbs stroking from the softness of his sideburns to the prickle of his unshaved cheeks and along his jaw.
He stopped finger-fucking me and put his arms around my back, locking us together in that kiss. I wanted to climb inside him, find that place that let him be so damned self-assured and let it cover us both. But then he groaned deep in his throat and a frantic tenderness washed over me. I wanted to wrap myself around him, take him so deep inside me he’d be safe from ever losing that cocky grin.
We broke for air, our foreheads pressed together, breath hot against each other’s mouth.
Bryce took a deep breath. “Damn.” He loosened his hold for a second, relocking his hands at the base of my spine as he started to tip me toward the floor. “Can you reach my jeans?”
“Huh?”
“Condom, lube,” Bryce explained patiently.
“Right.” I was the practical one. So how had I managed to forget those little essentials? Had I expected the reality of sex to turn into some soft focus fade out like in a movie? One thing I remembered. Bryce was always prepared.
Sure enough, there were two condoms and two mini packs of lube in his right front pocket. I tossed them onto his chest. “You left right from the work site?”
“Yeah.”
“Some work site.” I had no right to be pissed. But responsible didn’t always mean rational and the idea that I was option B or even C stung.
Bryce caught my hand and brought it to our dicks. “Truck stop. Outside of Cumberland. Was counting on you being…” he stroked once down my shaft then flicked his thumb at that spot under the head, “…happy to see me.”
“Parts of me are,” I admitted, returning the favor, fingers savoring the thick, veiny, length. I went for a thumb on his sac. His mouth opened and his eyes closed in a flattering appreciation.
“Any chance of those happy parts working with my happy parts? ‘Cause, man, I’m dying here.”
With two packs there was enough to put a little lube on the head of his dick before I rolled down the rubber. I lifted way up to let him do me. Slick around the hole, his thumb popping in a reminder that yes, it had been a while and those first few minutes were going to be interesting. We both rubbed the rest on his cock, me palming the head while he grinned and nudged me forward with his hips.
However romantic fucking on the couch in front of the Christmas tree might sound, the reality of making it work was an awkward mess of positioning when two six-foot guys tried it. I felt about as sexy as a frog by the time he’d moved forward enough that I could squat over him and line his dick up with my hole.
He helped me keep my balance but let me set the pace as I pressed down. Gravity crammed the head in a little fast, but I rocked him in and out. Then it was heaven—only bigger. He grabbed my hips and pulled me the rest of the way down.
“God, Mel, you look like an angel.” The corner of his mouth twisted. “A hot, dirty angel who likes to ride dick.”
I sucked in a shaky breath and forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Now might not be the best time to make me laugh.” The effort to push my own words out echoed through stretched-to-stinging muscles that hadn’t made up their minds whether this having a rock hard dick up there was really good or really bad. His answering laugh made me wince.
“But I meant it.” His face stilled.
I could see the lights of the tree reflected in his wide pupils, the tree and me. My blond curls doing that weird hat-head thing, my lips dark against my winter-pale skin.
Watching myself in his eyes, I lifted up
then dropped down hard, going to my knees outside his hips.
“Yeah.” He groaned the word into my mouth as he started slamming up. His tongue fucked into my mouth while his dick drove into my body, both of us burying moans in that kiss. His hand slipped down my spine to tug on one cheek and God, he was in deep now.
From this angle, his cock hammered in against my gland while my own dick drove against his abs, a constant build of pleasure that was almost like coming with every single stroke. If he didn’t have my mouth, I’d probably have been screaming.
His fingers moved down to where his cock stretched me, rubbing there, and even lower, behind my balls until the pleasure spiked with a devastating certainty.
“Gonna—”
“Wait.” Bryce went still, held me tight to him, and I forced it back, clamped hard with all my muscles until I had that edge in a painful grip.
“Yeah, good.” Bryce shoved away a piece of hair that had plastered itself to my sweating cheek, but I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine. “Gotta fuck you harder. Can you wait for me?”
I nodded, and he dumped me off onto the towel, stretching one of my legs up over the back of the couch and getting his knees under my hips as he drove inside again.
I had been holding back the come so hard, my muscles weren’t ready and the sudden thrust made me cramp, but he ran his hand down my belly and I relaxed again. I grabbed his hips and dragged him in tighter. “Fuck me hard, then. Do it.” We were both whispering, but there was growl under my words that surprised me.
His hips pistoned as if he were going for some land speed record, and I held on for the ride. The pressure on my gland wasn’t as direct like this, more of a slow build, only my own abs to give my dick the friction it ached for.
We were inching our way up toward the arm of the couch and I reached overhead to hang on while he wrapped a fist around my cock, his other hand taking a bruising grip on my hips.
A few strokes of his wrist and I was right on the edge again, the overwhelming pressure of a swollen river behind an ice jam. I had about fifteen seconds to be afraid of how fucking hard I knew I was going to come when he sent me over, exploding in streaks that hit my chin and cheek. He never stopped fucking me. Never slowed the tight jerk on my cock, through spasm after spasm, then God, another one. I finally reached down to lock my hand around his wrist and he grinned, giving me one last kiss, licking a come spot on my cheek before he arched up.
I’d come so hard, I wasn’t even sore as he slammed into me. I watched his hair swing at his ears, the tension build and ebb around his mouth, the way he kept trying to keep his eyes locked on mine, as if he were trying to store up a memory of this.
When he slammed balls-deep and started to shake, my dick jerked as if it could empty itself again, and I tightened my muscles around him, making his eyes fly open again before they squeezed tight shut as he came. Devastatingly, utterly beautiful in the glow from the tree lights.
Right then I couldn’t have hated Christmas and all these stupid illusions of happiness and light more. Because by the time December 25 dawned this year, the man in my arms, my ass and goddamn him, my heart would be gone for good.
Chapter Five
It was a hell of a thing to realize, lying there with come congealing on my skin, and Bryce panting as he came back down.
I’d been half in love with him when he left the last time, and if Bryce had never come back to Epiphany, it would have been one of those could-have-if-only moments to work over like a sore tooth the rest of my life. But this, it didn’t feel like it had with Stuart, which had definitely been born of the convenience of finding another gay guy in a tiny high school. I could tell myself this was the same kind of thing, that I wanted Bryce because he was here. That he looked so good because other than the farm and my job, I didn’t have much else to do in Epiphany. No matter how good as I was at rationalizing things, I couldn’t quite make myself believe that lie.
Bryce was the whole damned package. A guy I could talk to, a guy who made me laugh almost as much as he made me hard. I wanted him to stay this time.
A want a whole lot more than dick deep. A raw, empty ache like ice in the marrow of my bones. And I wasn’t going to be able to warm it away with hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps.
Bryce ran a finger through one of the come streaks on my chest. “What?”
He was reading my face again. With what was rolling around in my head, that skill became a whole lot more threatening.
He bent closer. “What do you want? I’d give you anything, angel, you’ve got to know that.”
I swallowed. My heart might have been dealing with an ache that made it feel three sizes too small in an empty chest, but it wasn’t the only thing feeling tight.
“Out would be good right now.”
“Oh.” He eased back, and it always felt a lot worse going out than it did getting in.
Holding the condom on, he swung off the couch and away to the bathroom, returning without the rubber but with a warm damp towel to wipe me down. It lapped over my dick and balls like a prickly tongue, but there was nothing happening there for awhile.
Bryce looked down at me for a second, then climbed around me to wedge himself between my body and the couch back. The fit was only possible with us spooned together so tightly you couldn’t slide a piece of tinsel between us.
He tugged on the soft old quilt folded across the back of the couch and spread it over us.
I yawned and tried not to drool on his arm where it was tucked under my head. “We should go upstairs.” I had to be up and ready to run the farm in about five hours.
“Yup.” He kissed the side of my head.
“Just so we’re clear on that.” I relaxed into his solid warmth.
“Perfectly clear.”
I woke up naked on the couch in the living room. I didn’t hear any noises from the kitchen to indicate any of my family was up. Bryce stirred behind me—though other parts of him were already up and poking me in the ass. My own dick pulsed thick and steady against my belly. But the potential for an audience killed any chance of morning relief.
I found the source of the persistent buzzing that had dragged me out of my sleep—Bryce’s phone—unhooked it from his jeans and handed it back.
Now that I was slightly more awake I scanned the floor. My pants had ended up over the chair three feet away. My shirt was by the tree. We and our boners were going to have to make an escape with nothing but the quilt and Bryce’s jeans for cover.
We all might be over eighteen, but there are things I never wanted to share with my siblings, full frontal nudity being pretty near the top of the list. With the potential for embarrassment giving me heartburn and turning my morning wood into a frustrated ache in my balls, I hadn’t been paying much attention to Bryce on the phone until he said, “He’s right here,” and handed me the phone with “Kurt” as an explanation.
My conversations with Tiffany’s fiancé hadn’t been extensive enough that he would favor me with a before eight a.m. phone call unless there were further disasters, but Bryce was still relaxed behind me—except for the part of him he was rubbing between my thighs in an extremely distracting way.
“Yeah?” I tried to concentrate.
“I’m really sorry about this, Mel.”
With Bryce doing that, it was hard to think of any reasons why an apology would be necessary until I remembered that I was hosting a wedding in five days.
“It’s fine.”
“Well, maybe not. My parents called. They were able to get the last room at the Ice Castle, but with the gas workers still in town until Christmas Day…”
Whose fault was that? Right. I elbowed Mr. Gas Company CEO. He wrapped around me tighter and nuzzled my neck.
With the wedding in St. Thomas, they hadn’t been planning on a lot of attendees. There was the office downstairs and the room I’d made a library upstairs…” How many people are we talking?”
“My brother and a male cousin. Plus Tiff’s Au
nt Bernice.”
“Do they have kids?” I knew Aunt Bernice didn’t. I also knew that she wouldn’t stay with anyone else in Tiff’s family.
“No.”
Thank God. By Christmas, I’d had my fill of sticky-fingered brats running around the farm and trying to see if they could talk Fred into flying by poking him with branches ripped from our trees.
“Yeah, we can put them up here.” Aunt Bernice in Cas’s room, the other two in my room, Cas in the library or on the couch, and me and the Nuzzler on an air mattress in the office.
“And…me?” Kurt added hesitantly.
“Sure, but why?” Tiffany’s parents had dumped her with an aunt and uncle when she was seven. No one in her family had much, and certainly not space to house extras, but I couldn’t imagine that Tiff and Kurt weren’t sharing a bed.
Kurt lowered his voice, which made him hard to hear over the growling breaths accompanying the teasing kisses on the back of my neck. Not to mention the effect it was having on my dick—and concentration. “Hang on,” I said, covering the phone. “Do you mind?” I whispered at Bryce.
“Nope.” He grinned.
I should have known better than to set him up with that one. Tucking the phone to my jaw, I told Kurt to go ahead.
His careful whispers made him sound like he was undercover from the mob.”She’s getting wicked obsessed with tradition. I’ve got to be gone by Thursday. She’s coming over there in a couple hours to ‘check things out.’”
The traditional aspect might have surprised me, but not Tiff’s wedding drive. We didn’t become friends until eighth grade, but I knew she’d been planning various iterations of her wedding since she first picked up a Barbie.
“Sure. We can fit you in somewhere.”
Kurt’s arrival would put me and Bryce in the attic. Next stop for privacy: the barn.
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” I lied. “I’ll pass you back to Bryce.”
Kurt made some sort of protest, but I was hoping to keep Bryce distracted long enough to slip out and dash behind the chair and get some clothes on.
The Christmas Proposition Page 3