“So does this mean I don’t get to make you dinner tonight?” Z asked RT as they sat at the break room table eating pizza.
“I thought you had some pies to make.”
“I do,” he confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t cook for you.”
RT’s eyes softened and Z’s heart fluttered. He knew that RT didn’t realize how he looked at him, but Z noticed. And every damn time was like the first.
“Okay, y’all knock that shit off,” Trace stated firmly, elbowing Z. “They make rooms for that.”
“You’re one to talk,” Z retorted, glancing over at his best friend.
Trace grinned.
“Have y’all started renovating the warehouse yet?” Hunter asked Trace.
Trace turned to Marissa, then to look at his brother. “We have.”
“Yeah?” Hunter took a bite of pizza.
“What’re y’all turning it into?” Courtney asked.
Z noticed Courtney’s face light up as she stared back at her brother and her best friend. It was then that Z knew what was going on, and he waited patiently for the news.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
“We’re putting in a staircase that leads down to the first floor, and we’re remodeling to add a master bedroom.”
Z knew that his old loft apartment was far too big to just be a master bedroom. “And…?”
“And an office,” Trace said nonchalantly. “That way Marissa will have a place to work.”
Z looked at Marissa. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes a little glassy as she stared back at her husband. Yep, there was definitely more to this story.
“And…?” Z repeated.
The room was quiet for a moment as all eyes turned to Trace.
And just as Z had expected, a shit-eating grin split across his best friend’s face as he placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “And a nursery.”
The silence was replaced by earsplitting excitement, which caused others to rush into the room, looking around to see what was going on.
“They’re havin’ a baby,” Courtney announced. “I’m gonna be an aunt.”
“Congrats, bro,” Z offered, clapping Trace on the back with one hand and shaking his hand with the other.
“Thanks.”
Z turned to look at RT, noticing he was smiling over at his sister. “You’re gonna be an uncle,” Z told him.
“I know. And so are you.”
Z’s eyes widened as that sank in. Launching to his feet, he glanced around the room, momentarily stunned as that news sank in. “I’m gonna… Holy shit… I’m gonna be an uncle.”
Laughter erupted as all eyes turned to him.
“Holy shit,” he muttered again, lowering himself into his chair.
RT leaned over and chuckled, pressing his lips close to Z’s ear. “Congrats. Maybe tonight we can celebrate the good news.”
Z’s gaze snapped over to RT. “You’re damn right we will,” he said softly, hoping no one else heard but not really caring if they did or not.
Two hours later, as the party was thinning out, after Z and RT had helped Jayden and Kira clean everything up, Z managed to corner RT just outside the conference room. Without saying a word, he grabbed RT’s hand and led him across the hall.
“What’re you doin’?” RT asked, watching Z carefully when they stepped into RT’s office and Z closed the door behind him.
“Nothin’,” Z said, pretending he had no idea what RT was talking about. “What are you doin’?”
RT smirked. “Z.”
It was amazing how RT could drawl that one letter out into several syllables. And every time he did, Z’s dick stood at attention.
Since RT knew him so well, Z knew it would benefit no one for him to stall any longer, so he simply pushed RT up against the door and kissed him. Hard.
When RT kissed him back, fisting his shirt and jerking him closer, Z knew he had RT right where he wanted him. Only, they weren’t in the exact location Z wanted him, so he took a step back, grabbed RT’s hand again, and led him around his desk and into the chair.
RT dropped down into the leather, his eyes never leaving Z.
“What are you doing?” RT repeated.
“I’m giving you an early Christmas present,” Z told him, kneeling between RT’s legs.
RT didn’t stop him when he worked open his jeans, but he did help him to work them down RT’s legs. And when RT’s cock sprang free, Z knew by how thick it was that RT was definitely on board with this plan.
Only Z didn’t intend to give anything. Not unless RT was willing to take it. Because he knew RT enjoyed that shit more than anything. It could’ve been the fact that Z was bigger and stronger, but Z had figured out early on that RT loved to be in control.
“What are you waiting for?” RT rasped.
Z didn’t say a word, simply glanced down at RT’s long, thick cock, his mouth watering to taste it.
RT gripped his dick, stroking slowly, and Z noticed the instant RT realized what Z was offering. While Z continued to kneel, RT got to his feet and perched on the edge of the desk. A tingle shot down Z’s spine when RT reached for him, tugging him by his hair, urging him forward.
Z did as RT wanted, crawling closer until he was right where RT wanted him.
“Open your mouth, Z.”
Z didn’t move.
RT chuckled, the sound sending electrical pulses of pleasure straight to Z’s dick.
“You want it that way, huh?”
No, you do, Z thought, fighting a grin.
RT roughly tilted Z’s head back, then placed his thumb on Z’s chin, forcing his mouth open.
“Don’t move,” RT growled before sliding the swollen head across Z’s lips.
Z fought the urge to moan, loving every second of this.
Sometimes he had to encourage RT, but once RT realized what Z was willing to give him, the man didn’t need any encouragement.
“Suck me,” RT commanded, sliding his dick into Z’s mouth.
Z wrapped his lips around him, gently teasing him with his tongue. He was definitely not going to make this easy for RT. Where was the fun in that?
As he continued to watch RT, Z sucked and licked, never giving RT what he obviously needed. But soon, that didn’t matter, because Z was no longer in control. RT grabbed Z’s head and forced his cock deep into Z’s mouth.
“Suck. Me.”
Yes, sir. Z gave RT just what he needed, allowing RT to use his mouth, to fuck his face, to drive his cock deep into Z’s throat while he tried not to gag and choke. It was heaven and hell all mixed into one, and Z loved every second of it because it was what RT wanted, what he needed.
And Z was always trying to find ways to please him, to show him just what he meant to him.
“Ah, Z,” RT groaned. “So good, baby. Love your mouth.”
Z hummed his approval and RT gripped his hair tighter.
“You want me to come in your mouth?” RT asked roughly.
Nodding, Z continued to take all that RT would give him. Z’s cock was rock hard, but he didn’t touch himself, didn’t want to. This was about RT.
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna come. You sure that’s what you want?”
Z hummed again, then focused on working RT’s dick with his mouth and tongue, loving the way RT still held his head, fucking his mouth like he owned him.
Then again, he did. Mind, body, and soul.
RT groaned, his hips stilling as he slammed into Z’s throat one last time, his dick pulsing. Z fought to swallow, grateful when RT pulled out slightly, allowing him more air.
“I know what you did there,” RT said, smiling as he tucked his cock back into his jeans, then zipped himself up.
Z got to his feet, grinning down at RT. “Do you?”
“Definitely.” RT’s arms wrapped around Z, pulling him close until they were touching from knee to chest.
“Did you like it?” Z asked.
RT cupped his face, then pressed his
lips softly to Z’s.
“I fucking loved it, Z. Love everything you give me.”
And that was exactly the way Z had intended it.
Chapter Five
Tuesday evening
RYAN WAS SWEATING.
Not only because it was hot in the kitchen but also because he was nervous. He’d left work early, making up an excuse that he had something he needed to do. Granted, it hadn’t been a lie. He had needed to make a run to the grocery store to pick up a few things.
But now, as he stared at all the ingredients sitting out on the counter, he was nervous. What if he fucked this up?
That morning, Reese had called him, all excited that he’d found a copy of the recipe that Z had been looking for. After confirming that Reese hadn’t told anyone, including Z, Ryan had told him to snap a picture and send it his way. A few minutes after that, the recipe had arrived, and he’d thought of nothing except buying those ingredients and getting home to make that pie for Z.
It was a surprise. One he didn’t want to fuck up, but there was no doubt about it, he sucked in the kitchen.
Sure, the recipe seemed simple enough. He’d bought sugar, eggs, chocolate chips, Karo syrup, pecans, butter, vanilla, and pie crusts. Then he’d made a quick stop at the liquor store and picked up two bottles of Jack, figuring he’d use part of one for the recipe and he’d drink the other just so he could make it through this.
He hadn’t had a drop of liquor at this point, but he was beginning to think it might be a good idea.
Figuring nothing would get accomplished unless he simply did it, Ryan pushed up his sleeves and got to work.
AN HOUR AND a half later, Ryan pulled the finished pie out of the oven, looking it over. He didn’t know what it was supposed to look like, but it didn’t look bad. Maybe lopsided, but not as though he’d ruined it.
“Honey, I’m home,” Z called from the front door and Ryan jumped.
Setting the glass dish on a towel on the counter, he was still staring at it when Z walked into the kitchen a few seconds later.
“What is that smell?”
Ryan looked up at Z.
“It smells … good. Like…”
Z’s eyes went to the dish on the counter, and Ryan held his breath, waiting to see what he would say.
“Is that…?” Z’s eyes lifted to meet his.
Ryan nodded.
Z took a few steps closer, eyes on the pecan pie the entire time. Ryan watched as Z retrieved the iPad, which was on, the picture of the recipe on the screen.
“You…”
Ryan didn’t breathe, didn’t move, praying that Z wasn’t angry, that he hadn’t gone and ruined Christmas by making the pie instead of waiting for Z to do it. What if that was what Z wanted? What if Z wanted to be the one to make the pie? It was his father’s recipe, after all.
Oh, shit.
What had he done?
Ryan hadn’t realized he was staring down at the pie until Z stepped in front of him, cutting off his view.
Z’s big hands came up and cupped his face, forcing him to look up at him.
“You made this for me?”
Ryan locked his gaze with Z’s, noticed the dark brown orbs were glassy. Tears? Good or bad? A million questions ran through his head, but he couldn’t seem to make his voice work.
“That is the best Christmas present anyone has or will ever give me, Ryan,” Z said softly.
His heart shuddered momentarily. The best Christmas gift? That wasn’t his gift to Z. No, he had wanted…
“I love you,” Z whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips to Ryan’s.
Ryan clutched Z’s shirt. “You’re not mad?”
Z’s dark eyebrows shot downward. “Why would I be mad?”
Ryan shrugged.
“Tell me you love me, Ryan,” Z commanded.
“I love you,” Ryan told him softly. “So much.”
Z pressed a quick kiss to Ryan’s lips, then released him, turning so that he could look down at the pie again.
“I have to admit, it looks good,” Z said. “I’m impressed, Ryan Trexler. If I were a bettin’ man, I wouldn’t have put odds on you spending an afternoon in the kitchen.”
Ryan laughed, then elbowed Z gently. “Thanks.”
“But it looks like you forgot one thing.”
Oh, shit. Ryan stared down at the recipe on the iPad, mentally ticking off everything on the list. Hell, most of it was still on the counter, a huge mess that Ryan would have to clean up now that it was finished. From what he could tell, he hadn’t missed a single ingredient.
Looking back at Z, Ryan raised his eyebrows in question, waiting.
Z’s smile was blinding, and it sent a ribbon of heat curling through him, although he still didn’t know what he’d missed.
Rather than ask, Ryan watched as Z made his way to the refrigerator. The door obscured his view of what Z was looking for, and when Z turned back to him, whatever he’d gotten was hidden behind his back.
“What did I miss?” he finally forced out, desperate to know, hating that he could’ve possibly screwed this up.
Z came around to stand behind Ryan, his chest to Ryan’s back, his arms sliding around him. Ryan stared down at the counter as a bottle of chocolate syrup appeared in front of him. Cradled in between Z’s huge arms, Ryan watched as Z popped the cap off, then tilted the bottle of chocolate syrup over the top of the pie.
“My dad always added just a little chocolate syrup after it was done,” Z said, his voice low and rough against Ryan’s ear.
“It’s not in the recipe,” Ryan told him, watching the way Z squeezed the bottle, adding only a little to the top of the pie.
“My dad always told me that you can use someone else’s recipe, but you should always add a little something of your own to make it yours.”
Great. Ryan wouldn’t have thought to do anything like that. What could he possibly add?
“Turn around,” Z whispered, a firm but soft command right against Ryan’s ear.
Ryan managed to turn around to face Z, trapped between Z’s big body and the counter. When he looked up into Z’s eyes, he noticed a blaze of heat in the dark brown depths. He was so enthralled he didn’t even notice what Z was doing until he placed his finger on Ryan’s lip.
“Suck,” Z ordered.
Ryan instantly wrapped his lips around Z’s finger, sucking it into his mouth and licking the chocolate sauce from the tip.
Z’s eyes flared again as he pulled his finger from Ryan’s mouth.
“Unbutton your jeans,” Z told him.
Ryan did as instructed, slowly unbuttoning his jeans while keeping his eyes locked on Z’s face.
“Push ’em down.”
Again, Ryan didn’t argue, forcing his jeans down.
“Boxers, too.”
Ryan forced his boxers down, freeing his now rock-hard cock to the cool air of the kitchen.
Right before him, Z lowered himself to his knees as they continued to stare back at one another. Z never broke the eye contact, even when he took Ryan’s cock in his hand, drawing a hiss from him. Ryan tried to maintain some semblance of control, but it shattered when Z drizzled chocolate syrup over the head of Ryan’s dick.
He dropped his eyes, watching as Z’s tongue darted out to lick the chocolate from him.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, reaching instinctively to clutch Z’s head.
“Mmm.” Z proceeded to clean Ryan’s dick with his lips and tongue before adding more chocolate.
By the time Z set the bottle down on the counter and drew Ryan into his mouth completely, Ryan was shaking from arousal. Another hiss escaped him as the warmth of Z’s mouth replaced the cold from the chocolate.
Eyes focused and intent, Ryan watched as Z sucked him. Slow and easy, not rushing, not trying to send Ryan into orbit just yet. It was exquisite torture.
And he loved every second of it.
Z SUCKED AND licked, drawing moans from RT as he stood in the kitchen, completely at Z’s mer
cy. The man continued to surprise him with everything he did.
Z still had a hard time grasping the fact that RT had somehow found that recipe and made the pecan pie for him. In all the time Z had known him and certainly since they’d gotten together, RT had never cooked anything. Well, nothing more than heating something up in the microwave.
But this…
It made him love RT all the more.
Stroking RT’s cock, Z sat back on his haunches, looking up at him. “I think you need a shower.”
RT’s smile was slow and seductive, creeping across his face as his eyes glittered with heat. “Won’t argue with you there.”
Z got to his feet, then took RT’s hand, leading him back to their bedroom and right for the shower. He wanted to feel RT lodged deep inside him, and in order for that to happen, he had to make sure he got all the chocolate off. Though he was fairly certain he’d already done that, he still had a few ideas that would move things along.
RT took care of turning on the water while Z shed his clothes with lightning speed. Instead of getting into the shower, he moved toward RT and helped him out of his clothes, keeping their mouths fused together while he did, lingering a little longer than necessary because he couldn’t seem to get enough of this man.
At some point, RT must’ve taken the reins, because he led Z into the shower, closing the door behind them, their tongues still languidly sliding against one another, hands caressing smooth, warm skin covering hard muscle.
When RT leaned his head back and closed his eyes to let the water rain down on him, Z reached for the soap and proceeded to clean RT. Every. Single. Inch. He didn’t stop until RT was moaning and arching into his hand as he jacked him slowly, using his free hand to glide the soap over his skin.
Z stood up straight, eye level with RT once again. “Need to feel you.”
More heat glittered in RT’s ice-blue gaze, and Z knew he was nearing the breaking point.
Because Naughty Holidays Can Be Oh So Nice 2015 Page 11