Myron broke the kiss finally, and shoved his face into Andy’s neck and wrapped his arms around tightly, appreciating the firm planes of muscles beneath his hands.
“Jesus, My.” Andy’s breath came quick, mixed with a little groan. “I missed you.”
“Backatcha.” He pulled in air for a final sigh, then pulled back, relaxing his hold. “I want to tell you about this, what I did.”
Andy’s lips stretched, curving up at the ends, the center bowing down in that way Myron found too tempting. “I know what you did, babe. You—” He leaned in, heat from his lips drifting across Myron’s jaw. “—bought a house for us.”
“I did.” He admitted it straight out, not holding anything back. “I listened to you, even when I wasn’t doing so good at communicating, I was listening. I heard you.”
“I heard you, too. I want you to know that.” Andy grinned and touched his forehead to Myron’s, mouth so close every breath mingled. “I want us to be okay. I want you.” His hand slipped down Myron’s arm, fingers threading through and squeezing. Andy sounded certain when he commanded, “So, why don’t you show me what you did.” Myron let the certainty he’d felt when he first looked at the house give him courage, and he nodded, excitement and anticipation of what Andy would think making him rush to open the door.
They moved through the house, Andy exclaiming loudly about all the things Myron had imagined he would, his excitement contagious. Walking hand-in-hand, his dream of living there together no longer seemed so impossible; it was reality in the making. At the door to Talya’s room, Andy just stood for the longest time, quiet. He still looked relaxed, but Myron had no idea what was going through his head. Finally, he turned and tilted his face to look into Myron’s eyes. They were wet, swimming with tears, and Myron cupped the sides of his neck, pulling him close. “What?”
“She’s gonna love it.” Andy offered him a shaky smile. “She really is.”
“And you?” Please, tell me you love it. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.
“I love you. I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.” Myron froze, those words not at all what he’d been expecting. Hoping, sure, but expecting? No way. “I know you’ll say it’s too soon, or there’s too much we need to talk about. That we need to be sure. But, My. I am sure.”
“Falling for you, too. Tried to not, mostly because of how twisted up I was in my head. But I think I’m falling, Andy.” He smiled, feeling his lips tremble. “I am. I did.” Myron buried his face against Andy’s shoulder, and while fabric muffled his last declaration, he knew Andy heard him. “I do.”
Not even a Mouse
Andy, one year later
“Hallo, the house.”
The shout echoed through the rooms, and Andy sat up, sheets puddling in his lap as Myron rolled to the edge of the bed and stood. Andy took a moment to admire that fine, round ass as it disappeared into jeans, and then he looked up, caught Myron’s broad, indulgent smile and returned it.
Giggles wound up the hallway, and Andy barely had time to exit the bed and pull his own pants on before Talya came barreling around the doorframe. Gilda, still their girl’s best friend, was right behind her, and both girls flopped onto the comforter still billowing down from Myron’s quick toss.
“I wanna do this every year, Papa.” She reached out her hand and grabbed his finger, squeezing tight. “Christmas Eve Eve at Miss DeeDee’s is fun.”
As they had last year, Jase and DeeDee had offered to take Talya for an evening, letting Andy and Myron celebrate in peace and quiet. Now it was Christmas Eve, and she was back home.
“Y’all decent in there?” Threaded with quiet humor, the question came from the hallway, and Myron snorted a laugh. Jase’s head popped into view around the door and he grinned. “Just checkin’. Don’t need to see no twigs and berries, eh?”
“Jesus.” Myron’s groan made Talya laugh, which made Gilda laugh, which in turn made Jase laugh.
Andy grinned.
“Papa?” He angled his neck to look down at his little girl who was looking back up at him, uncertainty on her face. At seven, she was more articulate and composed than a lot of little girls, but being raised by two men who made no bones about the fact they loved her gave her a lot of courage. She was willing to try anything once, including horseback riding—a flop—and ice skating—a huge win. She’d found she loved the sport. After watching her first time lacing up and declaring her a natural, Jase hadn’t wasted any time slotting her into his skating groups at his foundation. Gilda preferred to watch from the sidelines while Talya bounced from ice to her blades, and then back to her tush on the ice, but their little girls were fast friends, never far from the other.
“Yeah, baby?” He grabbed a shirt from the dresser and tugged it on, tucking it into his jeans around his waist.
“When I grow up, I want to kiss girls.” Andy had been looking at Myron, and so was treated to the sight of his eyes going wide in shock.
“Me, too. I wanna kiss girls, too.” Gilda’s input did nothing to lesson Myron’s look of frozen fear.
“And boys. I wanna kiss girls and boys,” Talya declared with more certainty in her tone.
Jase rescued both of them with a quick, “If you wanna kiss the girls, that’s okay. Or the boys. You can kiss who you want. But not this year. And not even the next, eh? No, for you two troublemakers, kissin’ is definitely gonna hafta wait ‘til you’re both at least fifteen. Minimum kissin’ age. No arguments. Do what you want, but not until we say so.” Jase maneuvered Myron until he stood at the foot of the bed and turned him, poking and pulling until Myron’s arms swung out to the sides. “Now, you needa move, or Unka Myron’s gonna squish you. He’s gonna timber on a count of three. One.”
“Two.” The girls squealed and rolled to the sides, then finished the count. “Three.”
Jase pushed, and Myron fell backwards amid little girl giggles and an astonishing amount of male chuckles, and Andy shook his head. “You okay, babe?”
Before Myron could answer, Talya’s voice trilled out another question, this one making Andy stop in his tracks. “Papa, do we still hang a stocking for Daddy?” Last year, their final one celebrated in Roger’s home, Andy had hung the three stockings as they had every year.
“Do you want to, baby?” He looked at her, loving how protectively Myron’s arm curled around her.
Her little head shook back and forth slowly. “Not this year. I wanna put up a stocking for…Papa Myron.” After dropping that bomb, she chewed on her lip for a moment and then asked, “Is that okay?”
Andy thought of the present he had tucked in his drawer for Myron, and grinned. “Yeah, I think that’d be perfect.”
***
Myron
“She’s going to be up early.” Andy’s muffled voice came from behind him. They were squeezed together on the couch, a place that was Myron’s favorite place to snuggle. Well, except for in bed. He grinned, eyes closed, ignoring the decades-old Christmas movie playing on the TV.
“She is,” he agreed, edging backwards with his hips, rewarded by a groan and a thrust against his ass. “Lookie there. You’re up right now.”
“I am.” Andy placed a kiss on the back of his neck, and Myron twisted around, meeting his mouth for a tender kiss. “However, it’s Christmas Eve, which means uncertain sleeping patterns. She might be dead to the world right now, but that can change at any moment.” Andy kissed him again, possessing his mouth like Myron loved him to, pushing the kiss farther before he slowed things back down. “Which means we need to lock the door.”
“We can do that. Promise you we’ll hear her squealing about the tree long before she gets to our bedroom, though.” Myron stopped and took a breath, thinking to himself again how astonishing his life had become. Our bedroom. Andy kissed him again, stealing all thoughts from his head, leaving him panting and rocking his hips against the couch cushion, trying for any friction against his rigid cock. “Jesus, Andy. You’re killing me here.”
“You know it.” Myron’s mutter was joking, and Andy knew it. There was no jealousy between them, no worry that the other would stray or might look for variety. They’d only been together a year, but they both knew it was for keeps.
“I have a present for you. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but now…” Another touch of his lips to Myron’s. “I wanna give it to you now.”
“I have something for you, too.” Myron rolled off the couch and bent, fumbling to open the coffee table drawer. Present in hand, he turned to find the couch was empty and twisted to see Andy headed down the hallway to their room. Instead of climbing back on the couch, he pulled a folded blanket off a nearby chair and settled on it with his back against the couch. Myron watched Andy walk back into the room, holding a manila envelope that looked suspiciously like the one in his hands.
“What did you do?” Andy folded himself to sit next to Myron, studying both envelopes.
“I think the question is what did you do?” They sat like that for a moment, then both men burst out into laughter, each shushing the other. Myron leaned forwards and plucked the envelope from Andy’s hands, replacing it with the one he’d prepared. “Take turns or same time?”
Andy stared at him without speaking, and finally whispered, “Same time.”
Myron nodded. “On three.”
Andy nodded. “One. Two.”
They both said, “Three,” and Myron was chuckling as he bent the tines back, opening the envelope and shaking the contents into his hands. A quick review had his heart stuttering in his chest, and he looked to see Andy staring at him, papers clutched in his grip, fingers white with force of his hold.
“You want this?” Andy’s question was a whisper, awe in his voice. Myron nodded.
“Yours is better,” Myron told him, and Andy shook his head. “Gimme a pen, right now.” Andy produced one from the pocket of his jeans, and Myron scribbled his signature. “They’re both awesome.”
“They are.”
Myron looked down at the papers he held, a summary judgment that, once he signed it, had made him an adoptive parent of one Natalya Lyons-Kasmouski.
The name choice was fortunate, because the papers Andy held officially changed Myron’s government name to Ronald Lyons-Kasmouski. Better known as Myron, which was short for My Ronnie.
“Race you to bed?”
It was only fitting that Andy made it to their bedroom first, Myron close behind him. When Andy had learned his name, they had both laughed, because what was more appropriate than for a cat to catch a mouse. A few hours later, the air rang with Talya’s happy shouts, but in the time between them falling asleep holding each other, exhausted and boneless, and Talya’s thudding wakeup call on their locked door, their home was quiet.
Nothing stirring.
Not even a Mouse.
~
THANK YOU FOR READING
Not Even A Mouse!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Raised in the south, MariaLisa deMora learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every East Texas summer, she would spend hours in the Upshur County library, devouring stacks of books in every genre. She still reads voraciously, and always has a few books going in paperback, hardback, on devices! On the role of music in her writing, she says, “Music is inspirational. I love music of nearly any kind—jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, gangstergrass, hip hop—you name the type, I probably listen to it.
“I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But what I really, REALLY love is live music. My favorite way to experience live music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a definite plus! Oh, and since I’m a hand gal, drummers are my thing—yeah, Paul and Alex—you know who you are!”
ADDITIONAL SERIES AND BOOKS
Please note which books are part of a series, since for the most part they feature characters from additional books in the series. If those books are read out of order, you’ll twig to spoilers for the other stories, so going back to read the skipped titles won’t have the same angsty reveals.
It is strongly recommended they be read in order.
Rebel Wayfarers MC series:
Mica, #1
A Sweet & Merry Christmas, short story #1.5
Slate, #2
Bear, #3
Jase, #4
Gunny, #5
Mason, #6
Hoss, #7
Harddrive Holidays, short story #7.5
Duck, #8
Biker Chick Campout, short story #8.5
Watcher, #9
A Kiss to Keep You, novella #9.25
Gun Totin’ Annie, short story #9.5
Secret Santa, short story #9.75
Bones, #10
Gunny’s Pups, novella #10.25
Never Settle, short story #10.5
Not Even A Mouse, novella #10.75
Fury, #11
Cassie, #12 (2018)
Road Runner’s Ride, novella #12.5
Occupy Yourself band series:
Born Into Trouble, #1
Grace In Motion, #2 (2018)
What They Say, #3 (2018)
Neither This, Nor That series:
This Is the Route Of Twisted Pain, #1
Treading the Traitor’s Path: Out Bad, #2
Trapped by Fate on Reckless Roads, #3 (2018)
Other Books:
With My Whole Heart
Alace Sweets
More information available at mldemora.com.
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