AFTER DINNER—OF which Z ate more than his fair share—everyone retired to the living room. Emily and Bryce had brought in more seating so that there would be enough. There were a lot of people there, no doubt about it, but they’d had plenty of food left over, which meant Lilah would likely be packing leftovers in to-go containers. Z fully intended to grab some before they left.
And now, as everyone sat in the living room and chatted about dinner, the gifts they’d received, the gifts they’d given, the reactions from the people they loved when they’d opened their presents, Z settled in and watched.
Although he wished his mother and father and his brother and sister were there, this was nice. The Trexlers and the Kogans had become a huge part of his life over the years, having welcomed him into the fold when he’d first come on board over a decade ago.
Not that he’d ever thought he’d have the pleasure of being able to call Emily and Bryce his in-laws. He’d been best friends with Trace for years, been in love (albeit secretly) with RT for quite a while, as well, but still, this was better than he’d expected.
Z looked up when Casper cleared his throat.
“I know y’all are waiting patiently to find out what we’re doin’,” Casper explained. “And this year, Shelby was the one who got to pick the game.”
At that moment, Trace carried in an easel and a huge drawing pad, placing it at the front of the room.
“We’re gonna split up into two teams,” Shelby explained, grabbing the pen from Trace. “And I’ve already picked the teams.” Turning toward the paper, she began writing the names as she called them out. “RT, Z, Trace, Marissa, Dominic, Conner, Buddy, Lilah, Elizabeth, Casper, Frank, Evan, and Hunter. The other team: Me, Emily, Bryce, Austin, Clay, Kira, Stephanie, TJ, Colby, Tanner, Courtney, and Max.”
“What’re we playin’?” Austin inquired while Shelby continued to write all the names out, looking around as though it wasn’t obvious.
“Christmas carol charades,” Shelby announced proudly, capping the pen and placing it on the table. She then grabbed a bucket and proceeded to carry it around, holding it out for people from each team to pick from.
When she came over to him, Z smiled. “You know my team’s gonna win this, right? Then you’ll have to crown me the king of Christmas.”
Shelby laughed, her light gray eyes twinkling. “It’s on,” she challenged.
Turning to face Conner, Z asked, “You up for this, Daddy-o?”
Conner smiled and Shelby laughed at her father. “I’m not sure my dad even knows a Christmas carol.”
Conner growled, grinning at his daughter. “You’d be surprised what I know, kiddo.”
Shelby moved on to the other team, allowing them to pick three slips of paper from the bucket. When she was finished, she returned to the side of the room where her group had gathered and Z turned to his.
“Who’s gonna go first for us?” he asked, looking at his team.
“We’ve nominated you for that,” RT told him.
Of course they had.
“Smart people. I like it.” Z got to his feet and took one of the slips of paper that they’d placed on the end table near them. He studied it closely.
“Okay, Z, your team goes first,” Shelby called out. “Remember, no words allowed. And you have two minutes.”
Ah, so that would add a bit of a challenge.
Z turned to face his team, then looked at the slip of paper in his hand before crumpling it and shoving it in his pocket.
Standing at the front of the room, Z held out six fingers.
“Six words,” someone shouted.
Z held up one finger, then touched his ear.
“Sounds like. First word sounds like,” Marissa squealed cheerfully, as though she’d solved the puzzle already.
Z smiled and pointed to his eye.
“I.”
He nodded, then pretended to saw something.
“Saw.”
He nodded, then pretended to rock a baby.
“Rocking.”
“Uh … cradle.”
Z shook his head, repeated the motion.
“Arms.”
Z frowned. Were they even thinking about Christmas carols?
When they didn’t guess, he cut his hand as though to change. Then he pretended to kiss the air.
“Kiss!” Marissa yelled.
Z nodded.
“I saw kisses,” Frank called out.
Z shook his head.
“I saw … rock … kiss…” Lilah was working it out.
Z pretended to grab his belly.
“I saw rock and belly,” RT said.
Z frowned at his husband. Really?
Z repeated all of the movements in order.
“I … saw … rocking … kissing … belly.”
Conner jumped to his feet. “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”
Z clapped his hands. “Yes!”
A chorus of cheers erupted from their side of the room.
Z turned to Shelby and mimicked placing a crown on his head. She laughed at him, as he’d hoped.
RT pulled Z down onto the couch beside him. “I’m not sure I’ll get that image outta my head.”
Z leaned in and lowered his voice so no one else could hear. “Well, I’ve got another image I’ll gladly put there. It involves my mouth and your—”
RT slammed his hand over Z’s mouth, his eyes wide.
Z smirked behind his hand.
“Our turn,” Kira announced, standing up and moving to the front of the room.
Z sat back and watched.
Kira held up seven fingers.
“Seven words,” her team called out.
Kira nodded, then looked around the room. She ran over to Marissa, placed her hands on Marissa’s belly, then ran back and pointed at Elizabeth and Emily.
“Grandma!” someone called out.
Kira laughed, nodded, then moved back to the front of the room.
“Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer!”
Well, that was totally not fair.
And now, it was on.
Chapter Eight
ONCE THE GAME was finished and the rest of the family was in the kitchen breaking into the desserts, Ryan found himself being led up the stairs by Z.
“Where’re we goin’?” he asked Z, not really needing an answer. He already knew.
“We lost,” Z said, brooding. “I need to go pout for a little while.”
Yes, they’d lost, and Z had had to crown Shelby the queen of Christmas, but he’d done it with a smile. Then, he’d pouted. Or pretended to for Ryan’s sake.
Ryan allowed Z to pull him down the hall and into the guest bedroom at the far end.
When they stepped inside, he pretended not to know why they were there, but when Z locked the door behind them, it was pretty obvious.
“This isn’t my childhood bedroom,” he told Z, laughing when Z pushed him down onto the queen-sized bed.
Z tumbled on top of him, holding himself up. “Close your eyes, we’ll pretend.”
Unable to resist taunting him, Ryan closed his eyes.
“Ah, yeah,” Z mumbled softly. “I like you just like that.”
Ryan opened his eyes.
“Nuh-uh. Close them.”
Ryan closed his eyes once more.
“This is a fantasy I’ve had for a long time,” Z whispered, his breath fanning over Ryan’s mouth. “What it would’ve been like to sneak into your bedroom, to find you asleep on your bed.”
Okay, so this role-playing thing was working for him. Ryan’s cock swelled behind his zipper.
“Just like a teenager,” Z mumbled, grinding his hips against Ryan’s. “Hard and ready for me, huh?”
“Always,” Ryan admitted.
Z pressed his lips to Ryan’s, the kiss soft and sweet at first, but that didn’t last long. The next thing Ryan knew, Z was trailing down his body, his big fingers working open the button and zipper on Ryan’s jeans before he yanked them down.
Ryan i
nstantly opened his eyes, watching as Z leaned forward and kissed the head of Ryan’s dick, causing him to suck in a breath.
With a glimmer in his dark brown eyes, Z smiled, then took Ryan’s cock in his mouth and sucked. Hard.
“Fuck,” Ryan hissed.
Z pulled back. “Remember, your entire family is downstairs. You wouldn’t want them to hear you, would you?”
Ryan clamped his teeth shut, grunting when Z took him in his mouth once more. The pleasure assaulted him. Warm, soft. Z’s lips suctioned around his dick, his tongue circling the head before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, taking Ryan all the way to his throat.
This was definitely not a good idea. Not because Ryan didn’t enjoy Z tormenting him, but it was true, his entire family was downstairs, and more than likely someone would realize they were gone. It wouldn’t take much to figure out what they were doing, either.
Obviously Z knew that, because he stopped sucking and crawled back over Ryan, kissing him gently.
“Turn over, baby,” Z urged. “This is my fantasy, remember? So that means I get to take your ass right here in your old bedroom.”
“It’s not—”
Z shook his head as he placed his hand over Ryan’s mouth, effectively shutting him up.
“My fantasy. Now turn over.”
The deep rumble of Z’s command had Ryan’s dick twitching. He managed to roll over onto his stomach while Z worked his jeans down his legs.
“Feet on the floor.”
Ryan scooted down, allowing his feet to drop to the floor, his jeans now around his ankles. He felt entirely too exposed, but his cock was throbbing, desperate for what Z would give him.
Then Z was leaning over him, a lubed finger sinking into Ryan’s ass, slowly, gently.
“Mm. Gonna love feeling you wrapped around my dick,” Z muttered softly.
Yeah, Ryan had a feeling he was going to love it, too.
If Z would get on with it.
Ryan bucked his hips back, trying to take Z’s finger deeper. Z’s rough chuckle told him he knew what he was doing. Another finger joined the first, and Ryan was grateful that Z had thought ahead for this.
“Ready for me, baby?” Z rumbled against Ryan’s ear.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, gripping the comforter in his hands as he bent over the bed.
Z shifted off of him, then grabbed Ryan’s hip. Ryan heard the sound of Z’s zipper, then the blunt head of Z’s cock pushed against his ass, and Ryan fought the urge to groan, biting his lip instead while Z worked inside him, filling him completely.
Ryan knew they had to be a sight. With their jeans around their ankles, their movements were limited, but Z was lying atop Ryan, his cock pumping deep inside him while Ryan tried to move, tried to increase the friction, to give Z a better angle, but to no avail. Not only was Z bigger, weighing nearly fifty pounds more than Ryan, the position kept him incapacitated, forced to take just what Z wanted him to have.
“You like me filling you?” Z asked, his voice so low it was hard for Ryan to hear him.
Ryan nodded.
“I would’ve snuck in your room every damn night for this,” Z said, nipping Ryan’s ear. “I would’ve waited until you turned off your lights to go to sleep, then I would’ve crawled up into your bed.”
Z pushed his hips forward, retreating slowly. It was a devastatingly slow grind, but it was working for Ryan. As was Z’s outline of events.
“I would’ve slipped beneath the blankets,” Z groaned against Ryan’s ear. “Spread your cheeks and fucked you with my tongue, eating your ass until you were begging for more.”
Ryan hissed, his dick pulsing. “Gonna make me come, Z.”
“That’s the plan, baby.”
Ryan turned his head toward Z. “Then fuck me. Hard.”
“That what you want?” Z asked, his voice rough, as though he was holding back.
“Yeah. Fuck me hard. Make me feel it.”
Z’s weight lifted off him, and Ryan was jerked back when Z grabbed his hips. He bit back a groan when Z slammed into him, impaling him on his cock, making him whimper as the pleasure pummeled him.
And just as he’d asked, Z pounded him, fucking him hard, fast, deep. So fucking deep.
It took everything in him to keep from groaning, to keep from begging, but he managed, biting his lip until he tasted blood while Z fucked him so perfectly.
“Ryan… Baby … gonna come.”
When Ryan felt Z’s dick pulse in his ass, he let himself go, coming without ever touching himself while Z filled his ass.
And that was probably the best Christmas present Ryan could ever ask for.
Z WASN’T SURE how he was going to be able to walk after that. Although he’d been the one to come up with the idea, the real thing had been far more intense than he’d thought it would be. And yeah, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d fantasized about sneaking into RT’s bedroom, fucking him like that.
It had been phenomenal, only now he wanted more, and he knew he couldn’t indulge, because yes, there was family downstairs, and they would likely be looking for them soon.
A knock sounded on the door, and Z jumped back, stumbling and falling on his ass because his jeans were still around his ankles.
“Yeah?” RT called out, glaring down at Z as he fumbled to pull up his jeans.
“What the hell are y’all doin’ in there?”
Trace.
Z smiled up at RT.
“Be down in a minute,” Z called out, not caring if his best friend realized Z and RT were in there together. Knowing Trace, he had been planning to sneak Marissa up there, anyway. Although, unlike RT, Marissa’s old bedroom was still in tact, so they could’ve used it. Which meant Trace was just trying to fuck with them.
As though to prove him right, Trace’s deep rumbling laugh echoed through the door.
RT scowled down at him as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. Z held up his hand, hoping RT would help him up, but he got no assistance, which made him laugh.
He managed to get to his feet, pulled his jeans up, and then joined RT in the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later, after fixing his clothes and cleaning the mess they’d made on the comforter, Z stood in the bathroom doorway and watched RT pull himself together.
God, the man was so fucking beautiful. Z could’ve simply stood there and stared at him. And to know that RT belonged to him… There was nothing in the world that was better than that feeling.
Before RT could sneak back out, Z pinned him to the wall, kissing him slow and deep.
“I hope you’re up for round two when I get you home,” Z told RT, cupping his face and staring into those intense crystal-blue eyes.
“I’m always up for round two,” RT said roughly.
Z nodded toward the bed.
“At home, Z. I’m always up for round two at home.”
“Spoilsport,” Z muttered, kissing RT hard once more and stepping back.
RT laughed, which was a damn good sign.
“Come on, let’s go have dessert,” RT said, reaching for Z’s hand.
“Mmm, dessert.”
“Is your mind always in the gutter?” RT asked as they made their way through the guest bedroom.
“Always,” he assured his husband. “Double time when it comes to you.”
RT stopped before he opened the door, his eyes going to the bed.
Z looked over, then grinned before releasing RT’s hand and going to fix the comforter. “I assume Lilah will be doin’ laundry this week?”
RT looked up at him. “God, I hope so.”
Laughing, Z allowed RT to lead him back downstairs, where they found everyone sitting in the living room, having dessert and chatting it up. After filling a plate full of food, knowing he would pay for this later and have to spend two hours a day in the gym just to lose the ten pounds he’d likely gained since Thanksgiving, Z took a seat beside Hunter.
“What’s up? Why the long face? Oh, wait … that’s your norma
l look. Sorry, man.”
Hunter discreetly gave Z the finger.
“How’re things goin’?” Z inquired, chuckling.
“Good.”
Didn’t sound good.
Z noticed Hunter’s gaze strayed over to Max Adorite, Hunter’s brother-in-law.
“You heard from Dani lately?” Flinching as though Hunter was going to punch him, Z waited for a response.
He didn’t get one. Well, not verbally, anyway. He got the Kogan death glare, the one that made a normal man’s balls shrivel up inside him.
Not Z. He’d learned to deal with the Kogan death glare. Hunter and Conner had perfected that look over the years.
“So, what’s the plan for New Year’s?” Z inquired, figuring he’d given Hunter enough shit.
Hunter shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Y’all?”
“We’re thinkin’ about checkin’ out that club.”
Hunter looked over his shoulder at Z. “Club?”
“Yeah,” Z lowered his voice. “That sex club.”
“That place Dylan and Alex were talkin’ about?” Hunter inquired.
It was no secret that Sniper 1 Security was currently in talks with a small security company, CISS, looking to acquire them after one of the owners, Alex McDermott, had approached them a few weeks back. Turned out the company was having some financial hardships due to a string of events that hadn’t gone their way. RT and Conner were seriously looking to acquire them but had been in negotiations for weeks regarding how to handle it.
That wasn’t the exciting part, though. At least not for Z. During their negotiations, Z had had the pleasure of meeting Alex, getting to know him on a more personal level. Turned out that Alex and his business partner, Dylan Thomas, had been silent partners in a previous club—a fetish club—that had closed down in recent years. They’d mentioned a new club—Devotion—and had extended an invite for their big New Year’s bash.
Z was seriously trying to convince RT to go.
Hunter shook his head. “The day you get RT to go to a place like that, I’ll kiss your fucking feet.”
Z grinned. “You know how much I like a good dare.”
Hunter chuckled. “I’d leave that place to the big boys, Z.”
It was Z’s turn to laugh.
Oh, he was a big boy, all right. No doubt about that.
Because Naughty Holidays Can Be Oh So Nice 2015 Page 13
