by Pandora Pine
“I suppose I would be a bad host if I didn’t grant your wish, huh?” Truman waggled his eyebrows.
“Yeah, that would make you the worst host ever.” Carson laughed. “I mean that would be worse than Martha Stewart getting arrested at her own dinner party.”
Truman raised an questioning eyebrow. “I don’t think that actually happened, but I get where you’re coming from, my special snowflake.” He sat up to kiss Carson.
“I’m your special snowflake?” Carson felt that warm feeling around his heart.
“Yeah. You know how much I love the winter and snow, right?” He rolled over, dumping Carson on his back. “You sure you’re ready for me and my monster cock?” Truman made air quotes over monster.
Carson felt a shiver tear through his entire body. “I feel like my whole life has been leading up to this moment.”
The sly grin on Truman’s face faded. “Mine too.” He bent forward to kiss Carson.
Carson wrapped his arms around Truman’s neck and pulled him close. Running his hands down his lover’s back, he tried to memorize every inch of his skin. He felt a small scar on his left side, probably from football and a large raised freckle on the left check of his ass. He couldn’t wait to bite it later.
“God, I’m falling hard and fast for you. Tell me you feel it too,” Truman whispered with a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I’m right there with you, babe.” Carson pressed a kiss against Truman’s crazily beating heart.
“Thank Jesus.” He pulled away and started rummaging through the nightstand drawer. “Shit, where are the condoms!” Truman sounded panicked.
“In my just in case bag if you can’t find yours.”
“Seriously? I bought a new box this morning.”
“It isn’t called a just-in-case bag for nothing!” Carson hopped off the bed and unzipped his bag. He handed Truman the box of condoms and bottle of lube he’d picked up this morning.
“Wow, a thirty-six count box?” Truman raised an eyebrow.
“You’re like Lays Potato Chips. I’m not gonna be able to stop at one, Truman.” Carson kissed his left shoulder.
Truman snorted. “That’s the corniest and most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop at one time either.”
None of this seemed possible. Carson hopped back on the bed and arranged himself on his back while Truman fought to get the condom box open. The circumstances that brought them together were unreal enough, but then throw their light speed feelings into the mix and the situation was off the charts.
"Look at you in the candle light." Truman climbed back on the bed with the bottle of lube and a wrapped condom.
"I was just thinking the same thing about you." Carson grinned. He watched in awe while Truman slicked his fingers up with lube. His body tensed for a brief second when Truman brushed the liquid against his most sensitive skin.
Truman's eyes locked on Carson's as he pushed his index finger inside Carson's body.
"Fuck, yes." Carson sighed. He tried to relax his body against Truman's invasion. It had been so long since the last time he'd done this and knew it was going to take a bit to get him ready for the main event, even if his lover weren't sporting an impressive erection.
"I would never hurt you," Truman whispered.
Carson nodded and reached out to set his hand against Truman's heart. He wished he could say those same words back to Truman. The tiny white lies that were stacking up like cord wood were all for his lover's good, but that didn't make Carson feel any better about telling them or keeping the larger truth from him.
He gasped out loud when Truman added a second finger and brushed against his prostate. "Truman..."
"You like that, huh?"
"I need you inside me, not your fingers."
"Soon, baby. Soon," Truman cooed. "I want you just as badly, but I want this to be so good for you. We're only going to have one first time together."
"We're going to have so many firsts together." Carson only hoped he could keep his word. He felt Truman pull his fingers back and watched as he suited himself up and added lube. "You ready for me?"
Carson nodded. "I was born ready for this moment."
"God, I was too." Truman lined himself up and gave a slow push forward. Both men gasped out loud.
Grabbing Truman's shoulders, Carson locked eyes with his lover. "I know it's too soon..."
"I love you," they both said together.
Carson's heart was pounding in his chest as if he'd just run a marathon. This moment was surreal. He couldn't believe this was happening, that he was here with Truman and that they were in love with each other.
Truman pushed slowly forward until he bottomed out. He rested his sweaty forehead against Carson's. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"
"God, no! You're perfect." Carson kissed him. "But, I'm gonna need you to move."
Truman grinned. "Holding still is killing me."
"Me too." Carson loved the way Truman filled him up. His heart and body were both full to bursting, all because of Truman.
Truman pulled back, setting the pace with short powerful strokes.
Lifting his ass, Carson met each of Truman’s thrusts. He knew that when they finally got together it was going to be explosive and Truman didn’t disappoint. Their eyes were locked together and he could feel ever muscle in his lover’s body working to bring them both off.
“Tell me you’re close,” Truman panted. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Right on the edge.” Carson had been trying to hold back so that he and Truman could come together. It seemed Truman was going for the same thing.
“Love you so much,” Truman leaned down to whisper before moaning Carson’s name.
Carson felt Truman’s cock jerk inside of him. Knowing Truman was coming triggered his own release. He whispered his lover’s name as his cock emptied between them. “I love you too,” Carson whispered when Truman collapsed on top of him.
20
Truman
Truman was waiting for their mint hot chocolate orders to be filled while Carson was standing with his face upturned to the sky catching snowflakes on his tongue. He couldn’t help snapping pictures of an enchanted Carson who was wearing the most adorable red knit stocking cap he’d ever seen in his life.
He was almost disappointed when their order had been filled so fast. “Here we go.” Truman held Carson’s cup out to him.
“Thanks.” Carson pressed a kiss to Truman’s chilly lips. “This place is amazing. I had no idea there was an actual tree farm here in Salem.”
“It’s not technically Salem. We’re over the town line into Peabody.” Christmas Meadows Farm had been here since Truman was a kid. His parents had brought him and his sisters here to tag and cut their tree for as long as he could remember.
It was their family tradition to come out in October right before Halloween and tag their tree. They’d have cups of hot apple cider while they walked the rows of trees and argued over which tree was the right one for their family.
His sisters always liked the blue spruce trees but his favorite had always been the Douglas fir trees. His sisters always got their way. The one year he’d talked his mother into choosing a Douglass fir, both of his sisters had cried until his father had sided with them and chosen the tree they wanted.
“How do you even know where to start?” Carson sounded dazed.
Since Truman hadn’t tagged a tree, he and Carson were going to have to choose from among the ones that were already cut down. “Most people choose a tree based on the shape or height.”
Carson wrapped his arm around Truman’s back. “Which kind of tree is your favorite?”
No one had ever asked him that before, although that was par for the course with Carson. Nothing that Carson did was anything like any lover he’d had before. After they’d made love last night, he’d hopped out of bed and gone into the bathroom for a wet washcloth. He’d cleaned Truman up before g
oing back into the bathroom and taking care of his own needs.
A man could get used to being treated like a king in his own home. Now here was Carson asking what kind of tree he liked best. “I like the Douglas firs.” He pointed to the rows of trees he was talking about.
“Why?” Carson took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“I like the shape of the trees and how thick and full they are.” Truman pointed.
“I see your point.” Carson grabbed Truman’s hand and pulled him behind the tallest tree in the line. “Do you think anyone can see us?” Carson waggled his eyebrows.
Truman looked around and there weren’t any other customers in their row of trees. “See us do what?”
“This.” Carson kissed him. “I can see the appeal behind the Douglass fir.”
Truman could too. He never could have imagined shopping for a Christmas tree could be this much fun.
“What do you think of this one?” Carson stood next to a six foot tree with full limbs and a straight top branch.
Truman knew the second Carson picked it out that it was the perfect tree, but he wasn’t going to make it that easy on him. “Hmmm…” Truman trailed off, scratching his chin. He walked silently around the tree twice. Not making eye contact with Carson. He even got down in a catcher’s crouch as if to get a better look at it from below.
“Well?” Carson squatted down to join him. “What do you think?” The look in his blue eyes was serious.
Truman snorted. “I think it’s perfect.”
“What?” Carson practically screeched. He gave Truman a small shove, making him lose his balance and sending him crashing into the snow.
“Oh my GOD! Are you okay?” Carson moved to grab Truman but was hit by a snowball in the middle of his chest.
“Gotcha!” Truman laughed.
Carson snorted and reached down to help Truman back to his feet.
Instead of letting Carson pull him back up, he used his strength to pull Carson down to the snow with him. “Be my boyfriend?” he asked when they stopped laughing.
“I thought saying I love you implied that?” Carson pressed a kiss to Truman’s cold-reddened nose.
Truman shrugged. “I wanted it to be official. I wanted you to know how much having you in my life means to me. I want you to be mine.”
“Baby, I’m yours. And my ass is cold and wet.” Carson laughed.
“Come on.” Truman stood up and pulled Carson up with him. “Let’s buy this tree and get it decorated. I know the perfect spot for my angel.”
Truman wrapped his arms around Carson and held him tight. This was going to be the best Christmas of his entire life.
21
Carson
It was the middle of the afternoon on Sunday. After he and Truman had gotten the Christmas tree back to Truman’s house they’d been so worked up over the idea of being boyfriends that instead of decorating the tree, they’d gone back to bed instead.
Since Truman had family dinner to get to, Carson had come back home to do laundry and his share of the chores around the house. They’d agreed to decorate the tree together Monday night after work, when they would also discuss introducing Carson to his family.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about meeting Truman’s family. Meeting a man’s family was a huge step in a relationship. But then again, so was having sex with a man and telling that man you loved him.
“Hi, Mama,” Carson said to the empty reading room.
In the middle of the night last night, he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and he’d remembered something his mother had told him when he was little.
He’d liked to sit on the back steps leading up to their living area and listen while his mother gave readings to her clients. One client in particular, Mrs. Rollins, was expecting twins with her abusive husband. His mother had seen a future where Mrs. Rollins lost both babies if she stayed with her husband.
A few months later, the client had come back to see his mother after she’d broken up with her husband and gotten a divorce. His mother’s vision of her future was much different this time around. She told Mrs. Rollins she saw her deliver a healthy boy and girl.
Four months later, that’s exactly what happened. When he asked his mother how Mrs. Rollins’ future had changed like that, his mother had explained that the future was never carved in stone. Things we do or don’t do today can influence what happens in our lives years down the road.
If that were truly the case, maybe he’d already done what he needed to do in order to save Truman. He sat down in his usual seat at the reading table. “I need your help, Mom. I don’t know if you’re the one sending me these visions about Truman or if this is my God-given talent finally manifesting itself at long last. I need to know if I’ve changed Truman’s future, Mom. Can you show me?”
Without hesitating, he reached out and touched the crystal ball. He heard the crack of what he thought was thunder, but it turned out was the report of a gunshot. He looked down at his left hand and in it was a gun. Carson took a deep breath and looking away from the weapon, saw Truman lying on the floor. He saw Cassie run to him and saw the pool of blood spreading away from his body.
As awful as what Carson was seeing, what was worse was what he was feeling. A rage like he’d never known before burned through his entire body. It was like every cell inside him was being consumed by it. Much more of this and he would be torched alive.
Along with the rage was a deeper feeling of satisfaction. It was almost an Old Testament feeling of an eye for an eye, as if a debt had been satisfied. Carson watched as Truman’s eyes went dark, as the life force he loved more than his own ebbed out of his body, while the body he inhabited was tackled to the ground.
Carson ripped his hand from the crystal ball. This time he didn’t collapse or faint to the floor even though his mother’s Tibetan chimes were jingling again. “Damn it, Mom!” Carson shouted, his voice echoing off the ceiling.
“That’s three times now I’ve had to watch the man I love die! I’ve watched it like a movie. I watched him die as if I were him and now I watched him die at my own hand.” Carson took a ragged breath. He could feel tears streaming down his face.
“I know you did this, Mom. I know you brought this miracle of a man into my life because he’s my soul mate. I know you did. I know you think that I can save him before this deranged lunatic kills him, but you gotta help me out here.” Carson gulped for breath, struggling to bring his ragged emotions back under control.
“Help me, Mom. Show me something. Anything. Show me a glimpse of the life we could live. Please,” Carson begged. With a shaking hand, he reached out for the crystal ball. The glass was cool to the touch this time.
Nothing happened. There was no crack of thunder. No bolt of lightning. No gunshot. No dying Truman. Just as he was about to pull his hand away from the glass, he could smell the faint aroma of tomato sauce.
Cole was at study group and Carson hadn’t left anything on the stove. He shut his eyes and focused on the sweet aroma of basil and tomatoes. Strong arms circled his waist. A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck.
“Hey, babe!” Truman kissed him again.
Carson opened his eyes to see he was stirring a pot of tomato sauce while a nearby pot bubbled with pasta. He recognized Truman’s kitchen, but was blown away when he turned around from the stove.
“Daddy!” Two tiny voices chimed from the dining room table.
“There are my babies!” Truman peppered twin toddler heads with kisses, while the babies squealed in obvious delight.
Stephanie and Brian… Their names floated through Carson’s head. The toddlers looked like they were about two years old and were strapped into booster seats scribbling with crayons over giant coloring pages. One baby had Truman’s eyes while the other had his.
Carson took a step toward the table, needing to touch his children, even though he knew this was only a vision. One step away from the table the vision faded away. His eyes snapped open and he was back in h
is mother’s reading room. Carson’s arms were still outstretched, reaching for his daughter.
His right hand clutched at his heart. Carson had never felt pain like this in his life. He couldn’t figure out which was worse, knowing this future was out there for him and Truman or only getting this one glimpse of it if he failed to save his lover’s life.
Carson gave into the tears and sobbed. He cried for Truman. He cried for the babies Truman may never get to hold. And he cried for the strength and courage to do whatever was necessary to save Truman from the gunman’s bullet that still had his name written on it.
22
Truman
Truman always hated rigging up the lights, but Carson loved it. He was sitting, cross-legged, next to their Christmas tree in the middle of a tangle of lights. Sadie, the little traitor, was sitting in front of him with a look of pure adoration on her doggie face.
“Okay, Truman, plug it in!” Carson called from the middle of the pile.
He climbed off the couch and plugged in the lead string. His living room floor lit up in a blaze of white lights. “I don’t believe it! How on earth did you do it?”
“Carson Craig, Christmas light whisperer!” Carson waggled his eyebrows. Sadie hopped up onto his lap and started licking his face.
“More like the Sadie whisperer.” Truman rolled his eyes.
“Don’t let your Daddy get in the way of our love, Sadie,” Carson cooed at the dog.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Truman reached in his back pocket for his wallet. “Must be the pizza and wings.”
“No, I’ve got it.” Carson reached into his back pocket.
“Oh, no, Carson. I wouldn’t want to come between your and Sadie’s love.” He snorted and went to grab the door.
When he came back from paying the pizza guy, Carson was snapping pictures of Sadie wrapped in a few coils of Christmas lights. Her doggie grin was in full effect while Carson took her picture.
“What are you doing?” Truman laughed.
“Just taking some funny pics of Sadie with the Christmas lights. I’m starving. Thanks for calling out for dinner.”