Santa's Last Gift

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Santa's Last Gift Page 9

by Sandine Tomas


  “You have to let me draw you again. Sculpt you,” he said with a yearning that ran deep.

  Husky laughter escaped in a delightful burst. “Right now?”

  Matt pushed up on his elbows and climbed atop Baz, hands at each side of his face. “No.” He wanted to tease back but knew the tremor in his voice betrayed his desire. “Not now.”

  It started slow again, mouths grazing and tongues exploring to discover taste and texture and strength. Matt was slighter but they were the same height and he had the advantage of Baz’s innate shyness allowing Matt to play to his heart’s delight. Dark brown nipples hardened beneath his touch. Wiry chest hair tickled his nose. Salty sweat burst upon his senses, competing with pulsing heat and steel silk vibrating in his grip.

  He stretched to reach inside his nightstand for condom packets and lubricant and was rewarded with kitten kisses up his own abdomen and chest from beneath. Slicking up his fingers he started to reach behind himself when a strong grip stopped him.

  “What are you doing?”

  Matt smiled wryly. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Baz’s brows came together and Matt had a panicked moment of thinking he’d somehow gotten it all wrong when Baz took his hand and wiped it against his hard dick. “Not yet.”

  “Not yet?” Matt asked, confused.

  Before he could take his next breath, Baz flipped them over and that upper body strength made itself known in a way that spoke directly to Matt’s libido, which approved wholeheartedly. Lips met his again in a kiss filthy with promise. Oh baby, he thought. I swear I could kiss you all night. Except Baz had other ideas as he nipped his way to Matt’s chest and worshipped first one then the other of his nipples. Shuddering as Baz blew on the hardened tip, he gripped the sheets hard on each side.

  “I remember… when we were… before… you did this to me,” Baz murmured before descending. And then Baz wrapped lips around Matt’s cock and looked up, meeting Matt’s eyes before they closed. Baz sucked in deep and smooth before pulling back up. Propped on his elbows, Matt was enthralled by Baz’s dark head bobbing rhythmically before Baz broke off and smiled like this was the one thing he’d been waiting for his whole life. The sheer delight in Baz’s eyes made Matt thrust up helplessly and moments later, a strong hand landed on his thigh.

  “Easy,” Baz commanded full-throated, holding him steady against the mattress. “Lay back and enjoy.”

  He could do that.

  Matt came back to himself slowly, aware of Baz’s soft lips grazing his earlobe and the soft huff of a chuckle right in his ear. Teeth coming together to tug the lobe in Baz’s direction before letting go and kissing beneath Matt’s chin. “Jesus,” Matt uttered.

  “Liked that, eh?”

  Feeling the flush of heat tear up his neck to his forehead, he asked sheepishly, “Did I scream?”

  “Little bit.” Baz’s smug satisfaction was so sexy Matt felt himself stir again.

  “I am reciprocating,” Matt promised.

  A cool blue gaze caught his as Baz propped up on his side next to him, hand running through Matt’s hair. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

  “Oh. That too.”

  “Ambitious,” Baz said with held-back pleasure.

  “You can’t go anywhere, remember. Steph’ll just send you right back.”

  Baz’s husky laugh so close was tied with a string to Matt’s dick. “If your parents are off-limits in bed, then so is my sister.”

  Matt moved forward to capture Baz’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss. He wasn’t sure if he said just us aloud or not, but the words seemed to move inward rather than out, rooting themselves deeper with each thrust of their bodies coming together again. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut as he opened his mouth to Baz’s tongue entering and retreating, causing Matt to chase after him. The intensity made his gut contract and heat pool between his legs, growing heavy with need as if he hadn’t just orgasmed.

  They rolled on the bed kissing, swapping control and rubbing against each other until Baz gasped, “Want you. Want to be inside you.”

  This time Matt handed the condom packet and lube to Baz instead of taking care of it himself. “Get me ready?”

  He stayed on his back, which wasn’t his usual preferred position, something about the intimacy feeling just this side of too much, but Baz seemed to take it as a given. It had been a while, although not nearly as long as Baz seemed to imagine given the gentle way he handled him. Strange for even that to seem familiar despite all the time that had passed between them. Yet Baz’s fingers were as long and blunt as in his memories, curving just right. And his eyes, checking on him every few moments, assessed the impact of every movement. Matt enjoyed the attention until he wanted more, thrusting his hips and huffing, “I’m ready, let’s go.”

  Baz fucked like he kissed, unhurried and intense with a steely control and fervor that bordered on obsession. Like every stroke was intended to offer maximum pleasure and every thrust given only for Matt. It was heady, intoxicating to have eyes locked on him like headlights in the dark, almost blinding in how they shone for him, at him, with him. Baz wrapped a hand around Matt and jerked him with that same steady rhythm that throbbed like a second heartbeat. Matt held Baz’s gaze until his body dissolved into tremors and his lids slammed shut, and Baz held himself with formidable strength throughout until he finally broke with his own pleasure.

  It was suddenly cool as Baz slid off him and managed to stand and head to the bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth and ran the terry down Matt’s messy body with a tenderness that left an ache in Matt’s chest. The sex had been incredible, but this kind of undivided attention after felt different. The last time he’d experienced this tenderness, he realized, was with Baz when they’d first hooked up. Except this didn’t feel like a hookup, and now he wondered whether he’d been honest with himself back then.

  “I don’t remember you being broody after sex,” Baz said, but his tone was humorous and not censuring.

  Pupils still dilated, Baz’s eyes were dark in the lamplight. Nabbing the cloth, Matt wiped away at Baz’s chest and stomach, feeling the muscles bunch beneath his fingers. “Not brooding.” He made sure Baz was as clean as he’d get without a shower and then tugged him away from the wet spot until they lay close, noses touching. He realized he was looking for another word to replace “brooding” and when it came out, it felt revelatory. “Not brooding,” he repeated. “Happy.”

  With a sleepy moan from deep in his chest, Baz mumbled, “Me too” before pressing his head deeper into the pillow and slowing his breathing to the rhythm of slumber.

  Chapter Seven

  Sebastian

  ON Sunday, December 11, the New Year’s Eve Silent Auction and Charity Dance Committee held an emergency meeting. The first order of business was dealing with the abrupt bankruptcy of their caterer—a revelation that started a string of panicked phone calls, with everyone repeating how close they were to the event, and Stephanie eyeing Seb as if he were a last-minute replacement for an Ocean’s Eleven caper.

  The group consisted of eight members including Matty, Stephanie, and his mom. They were all crowded around the Chesnut dining table, talking over one another. Seb took the opportunity to glance around at the members. He knew most of them from growing up in Fir Falls. There was Franklin Tate, a paunchy man in his seventies, who owned the luncheonette. He ran his hand over his belly and nodded profusely when Annette Vasquez, the town mayor, said that cancelling was out of the question and that she didn’t care if they served Domino’s Pizza—the show had to go on.

  Gertrude Kimble and Winifred Gray, married for five years but partners for as long as Seb could remember, were the owners of the Beanie. Gertie, as she was known, was in her sixties, tall, pale with shoulder-length wavy hair, white at the top and dark at the tips. Her petite wife, Winifred, kept her hair short, dyed a warm red, and favored oversized earrings that jiggled as she got animated.

  Rounding out the group was someone Seb didn’t know, a
man who looked about his and Matty’s age. Steph had told him Cameron Barrett had moved to town three years ago and took a job with Nerri Renovation and Construction. Her eyes twinkled as she’d divulged that the man was bisexual. Seb had stared at her because, really, just how many flings did she expect him to have in one holiday visit?

  That said, Seb couldn’t help appreciate the man’s rugged good looks. His hair was a golden blond, swept back messily over his forehead as if it had been growing in from a much shorter cut, square jaw and neat stubble, the same light color. There was what looked like a Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d first thought Cam’s eyes were dark brown but then realized they were a dark green. In a nutshell, the man was hard to miss and Seb couldn’t help but wonder if Matty and he had ever….

  “Sebby, you must know a thousand caterers. Is it possible to still pull this off?”

  Startled out of his ruminations, he spun his head toward his sister. “My usual contacts are too far away.” He looked at each of their faces in turn, humbled by the hope gazing back at him. He’d have to call in some favors but it was worth it when he could say, “But I think I could find someone nearer. I’ll make it work.”

  Mom beamed, Steph exhaled, and Matty gazed at him in a way that warmed him inside. Winifred gave Seb a big smile. “We can’t thank you enough. I mean, almost anything else and we could work around it… but a party has to have food.”

  They all nodded. Franklin looked up from the pad he’d been doodling in. “Did you fill Sebastian in on our theme for the gala?” He lifted his reading glasses to his face and started reading from his notepad. “Starry Ice.”

  Stephanie straightened and smacked the table with her palms. “Sebby… how about ice sculpture? That’s your signature go-to, right? I just thought since you’re involved now….”

  Mayor Vasquez smiled wistfully. “Oh, ice sculpture. That would be so pretty. Is it too late to commission that?”

  “I could rig lights to shine up on any sculptures, ice or otherwise,” Cameron volunteered, head turning to Matt for approval. Matty’s eyes glowed as he rubbed his chin in contemplation, and Seb knew he was already envisioning something extraordinary.

  Seb fought an inner chuckle. More emergency ice sculptures. And catering that normally booked months in advance in a few weeks. Piece of cake.

  Matthew

  MATT spent all of the next day in the zone, working on his submission for the auction, relieved that the gala emergency was being handled by Baz. If he believed in divine intervention, this certainly would fall in the category. The committee was more efficient than that insane first year when they had no idea what they were doing and were planning more of an elaborate children’s party than a classy fundraiser. No surprise given that the experience of the members ran more along those lines. But with this latest tossed wrench, without a pro like Baz to rely on, they wouldn’t have been able to get past having no food to serve.

  In the evening he headed to the Chesnuts for dinner, and they shared a fun meal of mac ’n cheese with added broccoli to satisfy Stephanie’s need for something green. Later, he and Baz read stories to the girls. Baz headed down as both Steph and Cheryl said their good nights to the girls. Matt stuck around for a final kiss each. Descending the stairs, he ran a hand over his hair and let out small a yawn.

  Entering the living room, he found Steph and Cheryl on the sofa perusing the Netflix menu. Matt went in search of Baz, who was methodically rearranging the dinner leftovers in the refrigerator. Matt waited uncharacteristically still until Baz was satisfied with his arrangement. He turned to spot Matt and quirked up one corner of his lip.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” Matt smiled as he glanced around to ensure their privacy and then came forward and nipped at Baz’s full lower lip. The small groan from deep in Baz’s throat was a gratifying reward.

  “Mom and I met again in the afternoon with a few committee members. I confirmed I’m close to lining up the caterer and ice sculptures. But then I was asked to consult on just about everything else—even though it’s too late to change anything.” He chuckled. “They are an interesting group.”

  Matt agreed. “Eclectic, yeah. But they all work hard to pull this off year after year.”

  “Winifred and Gertrude haven’t changed a bit. Gertie looks even younger than the last time I saw her, and Winifred’s hair looks more neon than ever.”

  “But it works for her.”

  Baz nodded. “Franklin never changes either. I don’t know the mayor well.” He played with the collar of Matt’s flannel shirt, fingers grazing his neck. “And then there’s Cameron.”

  Matt expected more, but Baz got quiet.

  “Cam? Yeah, he’s a genius at wiring up whatever we need…. He apprenticed with Anthony Nerri to become an electrician.”

  “Guess he’s good with his hands?” Baz asked. There was something tight in his tone. Taking a step back, Baz glanced toward the living room archway before returning his attention to Matt. “Did you two ever… you know?”

  It took a full few seconds for Baz’s meaning to clarify and when it did Matt nearly choked. “What? No. Oh, God no. I don’t know if you know but he and Steph—well, it was a one-time thing. But still….” He couldn’t help the grimace. “No. I wouldn’t—not after they—just no.”

  Baz choked. “She didn’t tell me that part.”

  Curious, Matt asked, “What part did she tell you?”

  Chagrined eyes met his. “Well, that he was bi.”

  Possessiveness swirled in Matt like hot smoke. He lifted a hand to Baz’s jaw. “I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone.” He locked eyes with Baz. “Not that it matters.”

  Baz lifted his palm to cup over Matt’s. The resolve in Baz’s tone went straight to Matt’s gut. “It doesn’t.”

  They held each other’s gaze. Matt found himself jumpy when silence lasted too long but Baz’s persistent intensity worked like the Ritalin he’d taken as a teenager—the rapid pumping of his heart having a counterintuitive stilling effect. He leaned in for a tender kiss, the soft sigh of Baz’s breath mingling with his own. The tip of Baz’s tongue reached out to play, and Matt parted his lips on his own inhale. It’s not like there were that many different ways to kiss, but there was something unique about the way Baz treated each touch with reverence.

  Baz kissed like it was important, like this moment mattered simply for itself, like Matt mattered. He kissed the same way he did at seventeen once he got past his first initial clumsiness at the touch of another boy’s tongue in his mouth. By the second time their lips had met back then, it was like a revelation came over Baz and he’d discovered something extraordinary in the simple swap of pressure and saliva and tender caresses.

  He blinked to discover Baz’s concentrated stare upon him. “What?”

  Fingers grazing his lips, Matt bit back a nervous laugh. “Nothing. I just… love the way you kiss.”

  “Yeah… I love… that too.” Ducking his head, Baz tucked into the soft skin behind Matt’s ear and pressed his lips there with the same light, determined pressure. The gentle attention went straight to Matt’s groin and with a valiant struggle he forced himself away, aware that they were standing in the Chesnut kitchen.

  “Matty…,” Baz groaned, reaching back for him.

  The raspy voice using his nickname like that did not help cool him off. He swept his arms wide to stress where they were located.

  “Yeah,” Baz said and wrapped his arms tight around himself as if to physically hold himself back.

  Matt met Baz’s gaze. “We could go back to mine.”

  Baz looked pained. “I can’t. Mom and Steph are heading out early tomorrow morning to meet up with deliveries they’re expecting and I said I’d stay with the girls since today was the start of their winter break.” In a lightbulb moment, Baz lit up, eyes dancing. “But….” He glanced up at the calendar hanging on the wall with all the family’s appointments. “Tomorrow. The girls have a sleepover tomorrow night. I won�
�t have to pick them up the next day until noon. If you want, I can come over tomorrow night—”

  “I want,” Matt interrupted, delighted by the flush on Baz’s face as his naked intention became clear.

  Heading back into the living room, Matt said goodbye to Cheryl and Stephanie before allowing Baz to walk him out. “Come over after you drop the girls off and I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Smoothies?” Baz asked.

  “You want smoothies for dinner?” he teased.

  The stammering he got back was worth it and he stopped Baz with a feathery kiss. “See ya.”

  Sebastian

  TUESDAY morning passed for Seb in a flurry of consuming cereal and brushing teeth, picking the correct pink shirt, and explaining the jeans could not be removed from the laundry basket to wear again.

  “Mommy lets me,” Chance groused. Next to her, Rowen nodded in her usual solemn way.

  He inhaled. “I’ll do laundry in a little while and your jeans will be ready to wear again tomorrow. For now, let’s pick out another pair.”

  “Laundry?” Chance asked, twisting the word on her tongue as if it were a new concept. Seb tried not to grimace because he’d already done more laundry in this short visit than he recalled doing on his own in a month.

  “That’s the machine in the basement,” he reminded her and was graced with a disdainful look worthy of Stephanie’s nastiest glare.

  Rowen tugged on the hem of his sweater. “I want to wash Mr. Duffy.”

  Uncertain, Seb turned to Chance for confirmation on whether this would be a good idea. Chance said, “That’s her lovey.” At Seb’s continued blank stare she tacked on, “She sleeps with it every night.” Chance turned toward her little sister. “I’m surprised she wants to wash it. She never lets anyone do that.”

 

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