What Happens During the Holidays: A Holiday Anthology

by Lucy Gage

  Jesus. What the hell is taking him so long? I hope he’s not passed out on the filthy floor or with his head stuck in the toilet. Or worse, what if someone has him cornered in there? Maybe I need to check on him.

  Right when I’m about to burst inside, he appears in the darkened hallway. And that’s when I pounce, jamming my hands into his chest and crowding him against the wall. Catching him by surprise. He’s not as muscular as I am, but it still takes effort.

  “What the…what are you doing, Dash?” His warm, tequila-soaked breath hits my skin and it turns me the fuck on. But he doesn’t sound offended or scared. Just a little confused. And I’m more than happy to put his confusion to rest.

  “I’m acting on a hunch.”

  “Do you do that often?” His voice shakes, breaths becoming ragged.

  “Only when I’m ninety percent sure of something,” I breathe against his lips, letting my hand slide up his chest to graze his collarbone.

  “And…what might that be?” He asks the question, his gaze drifting from my eyes to my lips, to my hand, then back again.

  “Let me put it to you this way. I don’t like to take without asking. So this is me—asking.”

  “A bit of a role reversal, eh?” he teases, and my dick hardens further in my jeans.

  I grin, my eyes all over his face. “I guess you could say that.” Then I erase the small distance between us. Since we’re both about six feet in height, our bodies line up perfectly, and there’s no mistaking the press of his hard cock into mine. Thank fuck.

  “I’m sorry, but I seem to have missed the question.” He licks his bottom lip and I want to attack his mouth. Bite the soft, pink skin. Then skate down his strong jaw, letting that rough stubble sting my tongue. My hand begins to wander and I see his eyes, watching. Waiting. Anticipating. I know hungry when I see it. And he’s hungry.

  “Cain?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Have you ever had another guy’s tongue in your mouth?” His breathing is so loud now, my words sound like a whisper. He nods, slowly, making no attempt to pull away. “Has another guy ever sucked your cock? Wrapped his lips around your shaft, and sucked, hard, until it feels so damn good that your balls draw up tight and you can’t help but shoot your come down his throat?” His skin flushes red, a loud swallow fills the space between us. At this point I’m not sure if it’s his or mine.

  “Dash.”

  God, I fucking love the way he drawls my name. I want to hear it over and over while his ass is in the air and I’m pounding into him.

  “Because I want to do that to you.” I lean in, my lips grazing the smooth skin along his neck, hovering above his ear. “I want your cock in my mouth. My fingers in your ass, my tongue in your hole.”

  “Oh, God.” He groans, and it’s sexy as hell. He tips his head back against the wall and I take it as an open invitation.

  “I bet your asshole is tight. I want to lick inside of you, until you’re moaning, writhing underneath me and can’t take it anymore. Until you beg for my cock.” I part my lips against his skin, swirling my tongue, giving him a preview of what’s to come. And then he utters the words. The ones that open up the heavens and set me on fire. But also give me hope.

  “Yes.”

  Then, “Please.”

  And then, “God, I want it.”

  He’s not looking at me when he says it, but he doesn’t need to. I can hear the craving, the longing in his words, in the rough, gravelly tone of his voice. Desperation. Desire. I know that feeling. And it spurs me on, making me hungrier. He’s not the only one with a sense of urgency. It’s been six, long, dry months. Six lonely months. And this guy could be the cure for everything that ails me.

  Okay, maybe not everything. But you have to start somewhere, right?

  My lips brush the shell of his ear. “You are so fucking hot. My dick is hard thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” A shudder ripples through his body. He’s practically squirming with need, hands plastered beside him like he doesn’t know what to do. And I’m more than happy to show him the way. To lead by example.

  My hands slide up to grip the back of his neck, to pull him in close until we’re breathing each other in. He smells like liquor, and sweat, and something that is undoubtedly Cain. It overwhelms me until I need to ignite the flame. And so I kiss him. Drag his mouth to mine. Relish in the softness of his lips, the newness of the connection. I groan, rutting my cock against his, enjoying the feel of his stiff dick pressed into mine. And then his mouth opens, and the second our tongues touch, it’s a fucking explosion. Tangling and dueling. Wet, sloppy, and desperate—just how I like it.

  His hands finally, finally leave the wall, any uncertainty left behind. Maybe he’s only done this a few times. But that’s just fine by me. Especially when he grabs onto my shirt, fisting the cotton, trying to meld his body with mine. Long fingers that I hope will later be wrapped around my dick. And even though I’m reluctant to leave his mouth, I break the kiss, chest heaving.

  “I feel your dick. You’re hard and throbbing. You want my cock, don’t you?” I grit out the words, staying close to his lips, nipping at his jaw. His answering silence doesn’t work for me, though. I need to hear it. “Do you want my cock in your mouth, in your ass, then jacking off all over that muscular chest?” I swallow. “Say it.” My breathing becomes jagged as those last two words make their way out. I’m bracing for impact, and while his body is giving me the answer, it’s just not enough.

  He grins, that single dimple almost pressing into my cheek. We’re that close. “What do you think?”

  “Not an answer.”

  I’m still holding my breath, as if, even now, he’s gonna tell me to get the fuck off of him. That he’s gonna bolt out of here and run somewhere to scrub the likes of me from his skin.

  Like I’m toxic.

  The same word that was used to describe me on Christmas Eve, two years ago. Well fuck that. I’m not. I’m simply a human being who wants another human being, who happens to be of the same sex. And God damn it, that’s okay. I’m thirty-two years old and no one else is going to define me.

  I’ve got to give Cain credit. I don’t know if he’s telepathic, but it’s almost like he can read my thoughts. Blue eyes wide, he leans his head back a little, staring at me with determination, his confidence returning.

  “I wanted you the moment I walked into this bar.” He smirks. “You were a little bitter at first, but I tend to like a little salty with my sweet.”

  That dark spot in my chest brightens just a bit, and I smile. “Oh, I’ve got something salty for you, all right.”

  He belts out a laugh and it’s impossible not to join him. But it doesn’t douse the heat between us. It makes me want him more. And when our laughter dies down, it’s obvious he feels the same. He’s staring at me like I’m the first real meal he’s had in a very long time.

  And what’s that saying? Carpé Diem? Seize the moment, right? Yeah, that might just be the best fucking phrase ever invented.

  I reach a hand between us to cup his erection. “I want to suck your dick. Right here. Right now.”

  His breath hitches. “Right here?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  One thick brow lifts on a fantastic fucking smile. “Well who am I to deny you when you’re so determined.”

  And then I drop to my knees. Yup, right on the filthy floor with the bathroom a foot away and the stench of cigarette smoke floating in from the back door. But do I give a shit? Hell to the no. Because I’m face-to-face with the enormous bulge in his jeans—and I’m salivating.

  My fingers get to work on the button and zipper of his denim before I hook them inside the waistband to drag them down his legs. And man, do I get a surprise. “Holy, fuck. Commando, Cain?”

  He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. But I’m staring right at his long, thick cock. And it’s a big, fucking deal. “I don’t like underwear, it’s too constricting. Plus, it’s conv
enient, because I have an affinity for having my dick sucked.”

  I wrap a hand around one of his carved, muscled thighs. “You have an affinity? Is that the fancy way they say it in Greenwich?”

  Cain arches forward, shoving his cock further into my face. “Nah, there isn't a lot of that going on in Greenwich, unfortunately.”

  “Ah, so now I get why you moved to Manhattan.”

  “Dash?”

  I don’t raise my eyes, too busy staring at his swollen crown. “Yeah?”

  “Now you want to talk?”

  “Nope.” I flick my tongue against the head of his dick. “I can assure you I’m all done talking.” And then I grab onto the root, fisting it, at the same time I seal my lips around his head. The taste of salt instantly hits my tongue, and that, coupled with his musky scent works me into a frenzy. I breathe in through my nostrils, wanting to inhale it all. God, how I’ve missed this; the smell of another man, the feel of hard, muscular thighs under my fingertips. And I like this guy, which makes it so much better.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groans, as I lick the long, thick vein on the underside of his cock, drenching him in my spit, then taking him deep to the back of my throat. I use my other hand to cup his balls and it sends him into some sort of delirium, another loud moan escaping his chest. “God, yes, suck it harder.” His hands delve into my hair, pulling tight. My scalp stings, but I welcome the pain as he sets the pace, his swollen dick filling my mouth. He’s taking control, taking what he wants from me, and I fucking love it.

  My skin itches with rampant desire. I want to tear our clothes off, remove all the barriers that separate our skin. I’m moaning now. Desperate to shove a hand inside my jeans to get some relief. My own dick is so hard, it’s nearly painful. But I can wait. Besides, I want his hands on me. Not my own. I’ve had enough of that these past few months.

  I glance up, watching him. Lips parted, head tipped back in ecstasy. He’s so fucking sexy, and I wish I could see his chest, wish he was naked. His grip on my hair tightens and I know he’s close to losing it. As I speed up, I massage his balls, and that’s all it takes for him to explode, a steady stream of come flooding my mouth. His strong thighs quiver in the wake of his orgasm, but I don’t let him go. I keep sucking until I’ve milked him of every last drop.

  And when I get to my feet, I don’t give him a chance to breathe. I crash my lips against his, pushing my tongue inside his mouth. Letting him lick his semen from my tongue. He matches my hunger as we fight for dominance over the kiss. His arms coming around to press into my spine, and mine surrounding his waist, pawing at him like a wild animal. I’ve never been into kissing that much. But with Cain, I don’t want to stop.

  He backs out of my mouth, grinning. “I taste good on you,” he rasps, “and that was…really nice.”

  Nice? Who describes blow jobs as nice? Cain Hartwell that’s who.

  “Really nice,” I repeat, my ego taking a slight beating.

  “But don’t worry,” he adds with a wicked grin, “next time I’ll let you try for outstanding.”

  Hold up a minute. Did he just say next time? I watch, shocked, as he reaches down to pull his jeans up. Waiting for him to say he’s kidding. To tell me there won’t be a next time. Instead, he steps back and stands to his full height, eyes slowly traveling the length of my body. Goose bumps prickle every inch of my skin his gaze touches.

  “So where can we go so I can return the favor? Because…” His eyes take another leisurely stroll down my frame and land on my cock, so hard now it could cut steel. “You look like you’re in desperate need of my assistance.”

  I move in close until we’re practically breathing the same air. “Oh you think so?”

  His eyes burn into mine. “Oh yeah.”

  Already, I’m desperate for his cock again. Except this time, I want us naked, his solid chest warm against my spine, that muscular forearm pulling me back onto his dick. What is it about this guy? He makes me want things I haven’t thought about in a long time. But I’ll never admit that out loud. No chance in hell. It’s too dangerous. After all, we just met. We barely know one another. But I can’t deny he makes me feel alive. More alive than I’ve felt since…well, in a long time.

  A ragged moan makes its way into the space between us. It takes me a second to realize the sound I’m hearing is my own voice. That Cain’s hand is gliding over my erection, severely trapped behind my jeans.

  “Should we get out of here?” he asks, listening to my breathing as it starts to escalate. Fuck. I just want to thrust his hand inside my jeans so he can jack me off. I want to come so fucking bad right now.

  “My place?” I can barely get the words out as his hand presses harder into my groin.

  “Probably a good idea,” he agrees, unfortunately letting his hand fall away. “You said your place is close by, right?”

  I offer him a casual nod though my desire is anything but casual. It’s a towering, mounting inferno. My only thought right now—I want Cain.

  I guess I won’t be alone, after all.

  At least not tonight.

  The sexual tension between us builds with each stride. Our bodies buzzing, surging with this insane electricity that crackles the air around us. And by the time we make it into my building, we can hardly keep our hands off one another. I’m practically dragging Cain toward the elevator when I remember his comment in the bar and head toward the stairwell instead.

  “What are you doing?” He glances back as we bypass the double doors.

  “You said you preferred the stairs.”

  He stops short and I stumble. “You’re willing to take the stairs? For me?”

  I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sure. Why not?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “I appreciate that.” His eyes dart toward the elevator then back to me. God, please let him be thinking what I’m thinking. “But tonight, I’m willing to make an exception.” He grins. “It is Christmas Eve, after all. And I know how much you love this holiday.”

  If I thought my dick couldn’t get any harder, I was wrong. Because suddenly, the visual of him blowing me in the elevator…

  “Let’s go.” I grab onto his hand and make a beeline for the doors, stabbing the button on the wall.

  He laughs. “What’s the rush?”

  “What’s the rush?” I whisper, stepping in close and breathing into his ear. “I want you in my bed, naked. I want my cock surrounded by that warm mouth of yours. And I want you to take me deep before I fuck you.”

  Cain’s hand shoots out and hits the elevator button in a frenzy, causing me to chuckle. “Where the hell is an elevator when you need one?”

  I don’t know why his sense of humor arouses me so much. But it does. My eyes scan the lobby before I take his lips in a hard kiss. I’ve never been one for public displays of affection, but this guy has me all messed up. His smart mouth and wit has me so turned on I can barely think straight. Not to mention, he’s hot as hell.

  He pulls away, winded. “Jesus, if you do that again, we might not make it to your apartment.”

  The ding of the elevator couldn’t have been timed better. The doors open and I wave him in first, trying not to give away my hand. “After you.”

  He walks into the car, shooting me a look over his shoulder. His lips catch my attention, red and swollen from our kiss. By the time I’m finished with him, they’ll be raw.

  Once the doors close, Cain reaches over and pushes the emergency stop button—almost like he was reading my mind—again. I know this elevator well. It’s after two a.m., which means no one will be tending to it anytime soon.

  He slips off his leather jacket and lets it drop to the floor. I park a hand on my hip, pretending to be annoyed.

  “And what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

  He stalks toward me, blue eyes barreling into brown. “I hope sucking your dick.”

  Pretty please.

  “Is that so?”<
br />
  Now it’s his turn to cage me in, his powerful arms on either side of my head. Then his eyes lower between us. “You look hard, Dash. Really hard. That must be painful.” One hand leaves the wall, searching, until he finds what he’s looking for and pushes against my erection. “I can help you with that.” His gaze lifts, tongue wetting his bottom lip. “Hmmm?”

  “Cain.”

  He squeezes my cock. The pressure drives me insane. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear your answer. Do you want me to suck your dick?”

  “What do you think?” I choke out, repeating his words from earlier and trying to maintain what little composure I have left.

  Another squeeze and I’m nearly panting. “Still not an answer.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, please, Cain. I’d like you to suck my cock.”

  “Better.” He grins, his full set of pearly whites making an appearance. “And just for future reference, you begging turns me on.” Future reference? Did I hear that right? I’m probably deluded, definitely not thinking clearly in my current state.

  I bite down on my lip as he falls to his knees, making sure to keep eye contact. I don’t know why, but his blue eyes remind me of the ocean. Deep and endless. I like looking into them. And I don’t stop, not even when he unzips my jeans and attempts to drag them along with my boxers past my very large, very painful erection.

  By the time they reach my ankles, my cock juts out, so fucking erect and ready for the heat of his mouth. But he takes his time, teasing the head with those soft lips. His hot, wet tongue swirling around the tip. It’s slow and torturous, and if his intention is to drive me crazy, it’s working. But I can tell he likes this. And as much as I want to protest, I’m all for slow if it prolongs the intensity.