The Christmas Curse
Page 3
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Jared stared at the door stupidly for a moment and then yanked it open. He ran into the hall, boots skidding on the polished wood. “Wait!”
Wesley stopped, one hand on the doorknob of the outer door. His head went down for a moment, then he seemed to brace himself and looked up.
Jared walked towards him. This was so wrong it didn’t bear thinking about, but he couldn’t allow him to leave. Couldn’t lose him. Not again. He stood in front of Wesley, almost nose to nose. They looked at each other, unblinking. Jared hesitated, and then brought up a hand and cupped Wesley’s cheek and watched those green eyes flutter closed as he pressed into Jared’s hand. Jared brought the other hand up, cradled his face, and then he kissed him. Hesitant. Close mouthed. Aching.
“I believe you,” he whispered. And he did.
Wesley made a soft whining sound and allowed Jared to kiss him gently before strong arms went around him and held him so tightly he could barely breathe. Wesley opened his mouth and Jared slid inside and their tongues duelled and fought, their hands grabbed and held and there, in the hallway, against the door Jared gave of himself and just felt. Something he had never, ever allowed, never considered. Felt all the aching love between them, all the passion, the energy, the fear…He pushed Wesley back against the door and aligned their bodies. Wesley grabbed his hair and held him hard, wrapped one leg about his waist, and thrust against him fully clothed. They grappled wildly, desperately. His crisis hit Jared hard and he bucked against Wesley, crying out. Wesley followed, gripping Jared painfully as he shouted aloud.
They leaned against the door, breathing heavily.
“Is that reason enough?” Jared whispered, his face buried in Wesley’s neck. He felt Wesley nod.
“How the hell are we going to do this?” Jared said, pulling back to look into his eyes.
Wesley’s lips quirked in a smile. It was a wicked, inviting, seductive smile. “I have no idea.”
Jared found himself smiling back. “Are there many others like you?”
Wesley’s smile widened. “Oh, my love. You have no idea.”
THE END
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ABOUT RUBY MOONE
Ruby lives in Lancashire in the northwest of England. All through school she was told that she would never get anywhere if she didn’t stop daydreaming. Eventually it occurred to her to write down the daydreams, and voilà! The beautiful men in her head came to life.
Ruby writes historical and contemporary gay romance but has a definite weakness for handsome men in billowing white shirts, breeches, and cravats. Oh, and she loves tea. Lots of tea.
For more information, visit rubymoone.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
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