Mistletoe Mistake

by Bryce Winters

  It was true. Max wore a severe black suit with an emerald green tie. It clung to all the right places, and Justin wanted to peel the fabric from Max’s body, worshiping every inch of skin he revealed. It would be like unwrapping a Christmas present.

  Justin pulled away from Max slowly, feeling bold enough to let his eyes wander over Max’s body one more time. He could barely contain his giddiness when the flush on Max’s cheeks deepened.

  There was no doubt in his mind what was happening here.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Justin asked, gesturing to Max’s empty champagne flute.

  Max nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. But Justin didn’t mind that. He was still floating on the fact that Max was so affected by him.

  “I’ll be right back,” Justin said, leaning close once more as he took Max’s flute from his hand. He held Max’s gaze for a long moment, letting his desire shine through. He watched as Max swallowed hard, that gorgeous throat working.

  “Okay,” Max said.

  Justin took a steadying breath as he walked away, wondering if Max was watching.

  He hoped so.

  4

  Max

  Max desperately tried to suck in air as he watched Justin sashay away. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn Justin put a little extra swagger into his hips.

  But he did know better.

  There was no way Justin was flirting with him. Not in a million years. Max was too old for him. Justin had obviously dressed to impress someone tonight, and it most definitely was not him.

  Max needed to use this precious time Justin had given him to pull himself together. Be a goddamn professional. They were fellow doctors now, working together to coordinate the inspection and wrapping of toys with the community volunteers. That was it. Max didn’t want to make things awkward for Justin simply because Max couldn’t keep his inappropriate thoughts and desires to himself.

  “Max, dear!” The feminine voice was easy to hear over the Christmas music. Max took one more steadying breath before turning toward the newcomer.

  “Miranda,” Max greeted with what he hoped was a warm and happy smile. He could only do so much when Justin’s mother had caught him mid-crisis about her son. “What a wonderful party.”

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning in and kissing one cheek, then the other. “You should come to these things more often.”

  Max adopted a shame-faced look. “You’re absolutely right. I always have a good time.”

  “That you do,” Miranda said. “And now that you’ve found suitable company, hopefully we’ll continue to see you every year.”

  Max frowned, his stomach clenching. “Who?”

  Miranda laughed, a light tinkling of a sound. “Justin, of course. I think it’s truly fantastic you two have found each other tonight. Doesn’t he look wonderful?”

  Max didn’t know how to respond. Should he confirm that Justin looked absolutely stunning? That the suit he wore made his body look as though it were made for worshiping? What would Justin’s mother think about someone as old as Max commenting on Justin’s appearance? What kind of messages did that convey?

  “He’s interesting,” Max settled on, then winced at the word choice. “I mean…”

  Miranda leveled a look at him, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  “Oh, come on, Max. We’re friends. And I know Justin is my son, but don’t let that make things awkward between us. I don’t mind if you find him attractive.”

  Max coughed, choking on nothing but air.

  “Miranda, no. Really…” Max tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.

  It didn’t matter. Miranda waved his words away, a gentle smile on her face.

  “Max,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “A mother knows when her son is infatuated with someone. And he’s been infatuated with you for over ten years. I’m not about to stop him from getting what both of you clearly want. You have nothing to fear from me.” She raised her glass to Max. “If anything, you have my deepest condolences. I love Justin with all I am, and he’s turned out to be a wonderful man, but he will always be a handful. Enjoy the rest of the party, dear,” she sang as she whisked off to say hello to another guest.

  Reeling, Max watched Miranda walk away, too stunned to even think about calling her back to ask her what the hell she was talking about.

  Justin? Infatuated with him for over ten years? That would have been right around the time he and Justin had first met. The mere idea of it made Max feel lightheaded. He sure as shit had noticed the teenager back then, but he never in a million years would he have acted on it. It was a bit of a mind-fuck to realize that Justin had been feeling the same way for him all this time.

  The question was, what did Max want to do about it?

  Max spotted Justin weaving his way between guests, two champagne flutes in hand. Max’s breath seized at the sight of him, like it had earlier during Miranda’s speech. Justin really was impossibly beautiful tonight. And Max wanted to pull him close, whisper all of his naughty ideas into Justin’s ear, nip at that sharp jawline.

  But he wouldn’t. Even if Justin truly harbored feelings for Max for all these years, why hadn’t he said anything? Max couldn’t hold out hope that someone as young and as attractive as Justin would want an old fuddy-duddy like him. Justin deserved someone his own age. Someone who could keep up with him both outside and inside the bedroom.

  Especially inside.

  Max still had it where it counted, sure. He hadn’t completely let himself go. He was a doctor, after all. But he also wasn’t the young man he used to be either. Sex with Justin would be a demonstration in the difference sixteen years could make to the male body. And Max wasn’t sure he was up for that humiliation.

  “Penny, darling?” Justin greeted, startling Max out of his thoughts. The world coming back into focus, Max saw Justin holding a glass out to him and took it gratefully.

  “Thank you,” Max said and gulped down half of its contents.

  Justin lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. I’ll pay you a whole dollar.”

  “What?” Max asked.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Justin clarified, taking a quick sip. “But I’ll pay a whole dollar now. You look stressed. You shouldn’t be stressed, not tonight. Are you okay?” Justin grew serious in the space of a heartbeat, concern painting his features. “Did something happen while I was away?”

  Max shook his head, fiddling with his glass. “No, no, no. I’m fine. Nothing happened. Had a great conversation with your mother, actually.”

  “Shit,” Justin bit out, startling Max. Justin turned, gaze intent as it scanned the crowd, as if his sole goal in life was to find her and interrogate her. “What did she say?”

  Max couldn’t help himself and reached out to grasp Justin’s upper arm. He marveled at the heat radiating through the smooth fabric and fought the urge to caress the muscles he felt there.

  He loved the fact that Justin would go to bat for him. Justin was willing to fight his own mother because he believed she had upset Max in some way.

  But that still wasn’t enough to sway Max into acting on his feelings. He resigned himself to the fact that Justin was going to make some young man very happy one day.

  He tried to ignore the sharp pang of regret deep within himself.

  “She didn’t say anything to upset me,” Max reassured Justin. And truly, she hadn’t. It was Max’s own issues that were causing him grief. “I’ve just got a lot of personal issues on my mind,” he hedged. Then he shrugged, giving Justin what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Just need some distraction, that’s all.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Max realized he had made a grave mistake. Not only would those words be more than suggestive to a man who had had a crush on Max for years, but the tone in which Max had used had left no doubt as to the meaning behind them.

  He watched in horror as Justin’s laser-sharp focus swiveled back to him. A slow, easy smile stretched over Justin’s face, even as
his eyes twinkled with playfulness. As though he knew exactly what Max was thinking.

  Shit.

  The hard truth of it was, Justin did know exactly what Max was thinking. Max wasn’t so strong of a man that he could stop all sexual thoughts about Justin.

  “I know exactly how to distract you,” Justin said, leaning close. The words came out in a deep purr, and Max struggled not to shiver.

  Swallowing hard, Max met Justin’s crystal blue eyes. “And how’s that?”

  “A tour of the house, sweetheart,” Justin said, batting his ridiculously long eyelashes.

  Max couldn’t stop the bark of laughter at the picture Justin made. Some of the tension he had been feeling all night eased.

  “Lead the way,” Max said, gesturing to Justin.

  With a grin, Justin turned and moved through the crowd with effortless grace. Max found his eyes trailing to Justin’s hips.

  Soon, the warmth and noise of the party faded behind them as Justin led Max through a doorway and down a long hall.

  “This leads to the garage, mudroom, some bathrooms,” Justin explained, flipping on a light switch. Soft white light filled the corridor, and Max saw the walls were lined with old pictures. Max assumed they must be of older generations and extended family. “There’s a flight of stairs at the end that leads up to the rest of the house,” Justin continued.

  Justin rattled on about the house, when it was made, how long it had been in the family. He pointed out the pictures, which Max found out were indeed of Justin’s family.

  “This was my great-great-great-grandfather, Joe. He was a true Midwest gangster. Look at him in his furs. Old Nebraska times.” Justin shook his head fondly at the sepia-toned photographs of stoic looking faces. “I could have inherited a brothel.”

  Max laughed. “I can’t see you enjoying it much.”

  Justin grinned. “Shut your mouth. We’d paint our toenails and gossip all night.”

  Max had a flash of Justin’s toes being painted a candy apple red and felt himself begin to stir in his pants.

  “Tell me about these guys,” Max said, pointing to a random photo, desperate for a distraction.

  It did the trick. Justin screwed up his face in thought, before he launched into what little he knew.

  “Meh, that’s enough of these guys. Let’s go up.” Justin flicked off the hallway light and headed up the stairs. Max couldn’t help but watch Justin’s ass as they climbed. He wondered how Justin managed to hide any lines from his underwear. Unhelpfully, his mind began to supply various sexy solutions, and Max forced himself to look down at his feet.

  “Here’s where we actually live,” Justin continued, turning on more lights.

  It was quieter up there, the air a bit cooler, though Max could still hear the thrum of the party going on below.

  “Here are the library and study,” Justin said, then paused at one of the doors. “Want to see my mom’s book collection?”

  Max shook his head, though the temptation was strong. Miranda had always lent him some good ones. “Maybe some other time. I’m afraid I’d get woefully sidetracked and have to make a list of all she owns so I can borrow them.”

  Justin snorted. “I’ll take pictures for you. Let me know what you want, and I’ll deliver.”

  Max stilled at the words, wanting more than anything to push Justin up against the wall and whisper exactly what he wanted into Justin’s ear.

  Gathering himself, Max followed Justin at a reasonable distance. He needed to hold it together for a little while longer. Long enough that he could make his excuses and bolt without looking like he hadn’t had a good time at the party.

  The hallway opened up to a main living space, artfully decorated with stylish furniture and finishing pieces. Warm light spilled from lamps on end tables and a large TV was mounted on the wall above a gas fireplace. Framed oil-paintings decorated the empty spaces between vast windows that were bracketed by sheer fabric. It was beautiful, a space well-used and lived in.

  “We spend most of our time up here. Well, now it’s just mom and dad. I did when I lived here. And when I visit, we’re usually here.”

  Justin made his way to the opposite end of the great space, heading toward a counter that had been installed on the far wall. A small, black fridge was nestled beneath it, a rack of glasses placed on top.

  “Can I get you a fresh drink?” Justin asked. He lifted a couple of bottles, one of wine, another filled with a dark amber liquid.

  Max smiled and nodded, making his way over. He passed his empty glass over to Justin. “Is that whiskey?”

  “Yup. My dad’s drink of choice. He’s always trying new kinds and keeping bottles of the ones he likes. He’ll never run out. This looks like it’s been infused with cinnamon. Festive.”

  With a thoughtful hum, Justin opened the cap and sniffed. He held the bottle out for Max to smell. The pungent scent of alcohol filled his senses, followed quickly by the sweet zing of cinnamon. Max found the combination intriguing.

  “I’ll try some of that, if you don’t think your father would mind.”

  “Of course not. You’re a guest.” Justin poured him a couple of fingers and held out the glass.

  Taking a sip, Max closed his eyes as the flavors travelled over his tongue. The promised heat of cinnamon was present, mixed effortlessly with the smoky notes of alcohol. He could feel its smooth journey down his throat. He groaned.

  “Wow,” he said, opening his eyes to look at his glass. “That’s damn good.”

  Max looked up at Justin to ask for the name of the whiskey, but the words died on his lips in the next moment. Justin’s mouth hung slightly open, his eyes wide and fixated on Max. Something that Max couldn’t name stirred in the depths of Justin’s astonishing blue eyes.

  More like wouldn’t name.

  Feeling very much out of his depth, Max quickly looked back at his drink, unable to figure out how to proceed. It was clear that he had caught Justin in a vulnerable moment. And while Miranda’s words began to replay themselves in Max’s head, he didn’t want to force Justin into an uncomfortable situation.

  “Max.”

  Max fought the shudder that threatened to take over at the sound of his name on Justin’s lips. It sounded low, warm, filled with longing. Curiosity.

  Promise.

  Max gripped his glass, braced himself, and tossed back its remaining contents. He savored the burn down his chest, knowing he deserved much worse, before placing the glass back on the counter and meeting Justin’s gaze once more.

  “Yes?” His own voice sounded husky, a result of the whiskey and desire.

  Justin pointed up.

  Confusion filled Max before his eyes followed the path of Justin’s finger. Up above the bar, hanging from a long, crimson ribbon, was a perfectly trimmed mistletoe arrangement.

  Awareness trickled through Max, a slow drip that gradually turned into a steady stream. He stared at the mistletoe, wondering if it was an illusion. Was this a dream? Would he wake up now? All the Christmas decorations had mostly stayed downstairs. What were the chances that they would be caught beneath the mistletoe here?

  Max blinked as the connections began to fall into place.

  “Mom hangs it up so she has an excuse to kiss dad whenever he makes them a drink,” Justin said, interrupting Max’s swirling thoughts.

  “Oh,” Max said. What else could he say?

  Everything in his life had led to this moment. And now, the most important question he faced was:

  Do I kiss him?

  Justin had brought him here, offered him a drink, knowing full well what awaited them. He had brought Max to a decision point, let his own thoughts, feelings, desires be known throughout the night. And now the ball was in Max’s court.

  If Max was being honest with himself, this had been years in the making. He was tired of hiding his emotions, tired of holding himself back. He wanted Justin with every fiber of his being, yearned to discover every inch of him and feel him move beneath his b
ody. Nothing else mattered anymore. And a deeper, darker part of himself wanted to prove that, despite his age, he could be the lover Justin deserved.

  Not wanting to think anymore, the last vestiges of his control snapping, Max stepped forward, grasped Justin’s jaw with his fingers, and pulled him in.

  5

  Justin

  Fucking finally!

  Max’s mouth met Justin’s hard, demanding Justin’s full attention, not like Justin needed any persuading. Max tasted of cinnamon whiskey, but beneath that, Justin could pick out flavors that were distinctly Max. Combined with the feel of Max’s breath against his lips, Justin groaned, already overwhelmed by arousal. Add to that, the slight scrape of Max’s five o’clock shadow, and Justin was lost.

  Justin melted into Max, allowing Max to take control. The scent of Max, the warmth of him, filled Justin’s senses, sending his head spinning. He already needed more, much more. It roared through him. He had waited so long for this moment.

  He ran his hands up Max’s broad chest, the muscles hard beneath his fingers. Justin wanted to rip the clothes from him, rake his fingers through Max’s chest hair, leave little red lines on Max’s skin with his fingernails. He wanted to explore every inch of Max with his mouth, categorize the different tastes and textures. He wanted to know what made Max gasp and groan.

  All in good time.

  When Justin had seen the look in Max’s eyes after his conversation with Justin’s mom, he had known that tonight would be his chance. There would be no more waiting. Max had learned of Justin’s feelings for him and it was pretty clear how Max felt about him. It was time for him to act.

  Justin knew that, if left to his own devices, Max would never in a million years make a move. Not without some serious coaxing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Max was worried about their age gap. Justin simply had to show that it didn’t matter to him, and it shouldn’t matter to Max.

  Plan set, Justin had led Max to a secluded part of the house where the two of them could be alone together, removed from the pressures of socializing with mutual coworkers. It was a holiday party to benefit Seattle Children’s Hospital after all. Justin had wanted to give Max the opportunity to put all that aside, give him an opportunity to make a decision based on what Max wanted, not what everybody downstairs expected of him.