“This really isn’t fair,” said Dom, wriggling. “I’m all restrained. I can’t even touch myself.”
“Perfect,” said Kiko. He pulled the sheets and rolled Dom so that he was well and truly trapped now, and held down the loose end of the fabric with a hand. He didn’t bother looking at the clock, but he knew they had time for something quick. Dom wasn’t going anywhere—and he wasn’t protesting, either.
Kiko took in his eyes, pupils huge, gaze full of anticipation. Dom was still hard as ever and visible even through layers of sheets, and Kiko was aware with the way he was positioned his own erection was bobbing right in front of Dom’s face. Just because they had to be quick didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun.
“You could let me have one hand,” said Dom.
“No.” Kiko pressed against Dom’s erection again and felt him lurch back; he rolled Dom so that the angle was better but he was on his back. Dom groaned at being left with nothing to thrust against, though he tried, but Kiko commanded his attention by tilting Dom’s head back. He pressed the tip of his swollen cock against Dom’s lips and breathed out long as Dom opened for him.
Dom thrust his hips up in time to Kiko’s movements, but he wasn’t in any danger of getting release that way. Normally Kiko liked looking down into his eyes but this was good, too, Dom spread before him, body completely covered by the sheets and yet in such a way that Kiko could see every outline. Dom’s entire body was tense with need, writhing on the bed in front of Kiko, all shadows and soft light from the one lamp that was on. Mornings in winter were bubbles of darkness and possibility, and Kiko liked what they were doing with theirs.
Kiko kept up his rhythm until he felt himself getting too close; there was more he wanted to do with Dom all wrapped up like this. When he pulled back Dom tried not letting him go, creating a suction around his head that very nearly made Kiko lose it.
“Dom,” he hissed, and was released.
“Don’t tell me we have to get ready for work now,” said Dom, sounding ready to call in sick.
“Not yet,” said Kiko, rounding to the other side of the bed. “I have something else in mind.”
* * * *
Dom held his breath as he felt Kiko climb onto the bed and mess around with the sheets restraining him. He struggled, trying to free a hand again, desperate for a little sensation. He was eagerly soaking the sheets with precome and didn’t want to wait around for Kiko to do something fancy.
“Don’t make this difficult,” said Kiko, finally getting the sheets to do what he wanted and pushing Dom’s legs up. Dom felt Kiko pressing hard at his ass, nothing more than Dom’s spit on him for lubricant, and froze.
“Hey,” he said.
“Willing to cooperate?” asked Kiko, pressing just enough to both excite Dom and keep him perfectly still. He trusted Kiko not to hurt him.
“When you put it like that,” said Dom, and he remained motionless as Kiko went for the lube. It was immensely difficult to resist the urge to shift around and take hold of himself, but Kiko had something else in mind. Dom listened to him lube up and relaxed, leaning his head back so that it dangled over the side of the bed. The wall was boring to look at so he shut his eyes and focused on the sensations. Silky sheets tight against his skin, his erection caught up against them. When Kiko had freed his ass he made sure to retuck Dom’s balls back in and they were trapped now, tight and aching.
Kiko’s finger toyed with Dom’s opening, slickening it. He dipped a finger in, then two, then three, and just when Dom was beginning to grow worried he pulled back.
“You look ready to me,” said Kiko, and in response Dom made a little moan. He felt Kiko’s slick palms at his legs, pushing him where Kiko wanted, and then he felt Kiko lined up again.
This time he eased in smoothly down to his base, and Dom felt his hands shifting to a position where they could pull.
Dom’s desire was worse in this position, his cock so hard it was almost painful. Kiko drove into him at a maddeningly delicious pace, building Dom with no release, taunting him. Dom laid back and took it at first until the sensations became too intense. He wanted, needed to explode in his cloth prison.
But when he began to squirm and struggle he found it was no use; Kiko was grasping the sheets tight against Dom’s hips, pulling everything snug as he thrust. Dom was truly at his mercy, left to feel everything and yet do nothing about it. He thought about swearing at Kiko, complaining, but he was enjoying everything too much. As long as Kiko got him off in the end…
“I’m going to lose it in you,” said Kiko, and Dom’s heart raced. He wanted that badly, and he wanted that now. But he couldn’t remember hearing Kiko unwrap a condom.
“I have to work,” he said, hearing his words come out a gasp. He did not want to deal with the aftereffects of this while on the clock. Dom tilted his head up in time to see Kiko as he pulled out, fast enough to be jarring.
Kiko yanked the sheets, dragging Dom to him, and pressed himself on top of him. Dom watched Kiko’s face as he came, felt the warmth and wetness seep through the sheets over his straining balls. If Kiko so much as brushed against his cock right now he’d explode.
But Kiko took hold of himself and worked out every last drop, eyes fixed on Dom, who was beginning to wonder when he needed to start begging. After a minute or so Kiko stopped, grinned devilishly, then grabbed Dom’s cock through the fabric.
Dom’s breath caught at the touch and he threw his head back, coming at the first stroke. But Kiko didn’t let up, making sure he did to Dom what he’d done to himself, completely clear him out. By the time Dom had come out of the orgasm he felt completely wet and uncomfortably trapped. He tried to roll.
“Don’t, you’ll get it on the mattress,” said Kiko, sounding breathless. Dom shot him a look.
“I thought we were soiling everything.”
“No, just the sheets,” said Kiko, fussing with them as he tried to release Dom without smearing anything on the bed. Dom stared at him for a moment before the amusement found its way up and out. He laughed, wriggling away from Kiko’s touch to make it difficult for the man to unwrap him.
“You can’t be that worried about it,” said Dom, grinning. “You didn’t seem to be too careful a few minutes ago.”
“I was distracted,” said Kiko. “Come on. Help me or we’ll be late for work.”
Dom laughed harder.
“Help you how?”
“Bastard,” muttered Kiko, but he was smiling now, too. “This is all your fault. Wrapping up your cock like a hard candy.”
“Is that what I should get you for Christmas?” asked Dom. Kiko shot him a mock-threatening look.
“You better get me more than that,” he said, finally freeing Dom. “There. Now run along and shower yourself off while I make coffee.”
Dom wasn’t about to object to that, either.
* * * *
Chapter 6
By Friday Kiko had figured out what to get Dom for Christmas. It was a bold idea, a potentially embarrassing one, too, but once Kiko had come up with it he couldn’t think past it. When Katie showed up at eight in the morning it was to see him grinning as he tracked down a photographer in Madison.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, moving to straighten the books by Mother’s cage.
“Oh, just Christmas,” said Kiko. “Picking out gifts is fun.”
Katie sighed.
“Ugh, I’m still not done shopping for my kids. And by that I mean I haven’t started. Mother of the year here, right?”
“It’s only the twelfth,” said Kiko, putting the photographer’s number in his phone.
“Sure. And then next week it’ll only be the nineteenth, and suddenly it’s Christmas and you’re stuck staying up until three in the morning wrapping everything you bought last minute.”
Kiko really hoped his sister would bring everything for her kids already wrapped. He’d been tucking away the odd gift for them, but generally he only got them a handful of things. This did remi
nd him that he ought to get something else for Dom, something that could actually be placed under the tree with everything else.
“What do you think?” he asked, pulling up Cat’s site. “What I’m planning on getting Dom isn’t appropriate for anyone else to see, so I ought to get him something else, too. What about one of those fruit paintings he’s always talking about?”
Kiko did not particularly like them, but he could see where they had merit. Apples with carved eyes and mouths in tuxedos like humans, strawberries in a bowl rotting in the shape of a screaming face—as he scrolled through the listed paintings he tried to find something that stood out as Dom to him, yet that he wouldn’t mind having around. Just not in the bedroom.
“Just what are you getting him that isn’t appropriate?” asked Katie, leaning on the counter. She seemed a little disappointed at seeing Sasha’s art blog on the computer screen rather than anything juicier. “Oh, those. Disgusting, aren’t they?”
“They’re not much my thing, but they are interesting. Dom seems to like them.”
Katie sniffed. The tinkling of the bell at the door signaled a customer and Kiko closed the page, thinking he could figure this out later.
“Well, maybe anything halfway decent got egged,” said Katie before shooting a warm smile at the older couple that entered with what was likely their grandchild. They began to wander the store, not looking like they needed any help, so both she and Kiko let them be.
“I wonder how much that will cut into what Cat’s sending us,” said Kiko, thinking Katie was being a little harsh. He printed off several new orders. “She hasn’t called at all to say when she’s dropping it by?”
“You know I would have told you or written a note,” said Katie. Kiko sighed.
“I’m anxious. It’s already day three of the Twelve Days of Mount Angus, and we’re day six. I’d like to have everything in before everyone starts dropping by to collect their stamp. She’ll miss out on a lot of business for her artists if she misses that.”
Katie moved to make her green tea.
“Elena says she got hers Wednesday night. Turtle doves was Thursday, so she had it in time…”
“Maybe I should give Cat a call a little later. If she wants I can swing by for it at some point, and maybe check out those paintings while I’m at it.”
“Those?” asked Katie. “The Sasha Jennings fruit paintings?” When Kiko nodded, she leaned closer and lowered her voice slightly. “Those won’t be at Cat’s anymore. Apparently Sasha was one of the artists who pulled her work after the egging.”
“Well, she has a website,” said Kiko, a little disappointed. He was fairly certain Sasha lived in New Slough, and he didn’t really care to drive all the way out there.
“I heard she’s displaying down at Angus Arts now.”
Kiko stared at Katie, who nodded vigorously at his disbelief.
“Cat can’t be too happy with that,” said Kiko, thinking Dom might just find something damning tonight after all. “Are there any other artists who pulled and took their work to Mount Angus?”
“For the most part it seems no,” said Katie. “But then, all my information is at least a day old now. Do you think it’s Ben who trashed Cat’s art hall?”
“That’s the most straightforward conclusion, isn’t it? And generally the most obvious person is the guilty one. But even if it is Ben, we have to get some proof for Cat or she won’t be able to do anything about it.”
“I bet family Christmas is just a treat for them,” said Katie. Kiko glanced at the time, figured he could give the photographer a call.
“Mind if I step into the basement a moment and make a call? I’ll probably have to ask you to cover for me a few hours next week, too.”
“Only if you promise to tell me everything,” said Katie. Kiko rolled his eyes.
* * * *
Dom ate the last of the soup for dinner even though he’d already had it for lunch, glad that Kiko cooked good food. Maybe he wasn’t so skilled on that front, but he was going out and tracking down proof of Ben’s guilt tonight, and that was something. He grinned to himself as he changed into more comfortable clothes. He had every intention of forcing Kiko to hang whatever he managed to draw on the fridge, even if he had to buy a magnet to do it. Kiko’s fridge was pristine. Dom didn’t even know how anyone managed that.
His phone rang and he turned it to silent, not caring to talk to his brother. After Dom and Kiko had smoothed things over yesterday morning and particularly after Kiko seemed willing to forgive him for the situation with Mother, Dom felt like he should do what Kiko suggested and be the bigger person. He figured they’d both regret it, but at least he’d have that to use as reason why they should never invite his family to anything ever again, regardless how big an event it was.
Dom didn’t care to examine why he was thinking about large family-related events with Kiko. That was dangerous territory. Instead, he pulled on his coat and went out to his car.
Angus Arts was in some sort of renovated Victorian house, sitting on a corner not far from downtown Mount Angus. The sign was in the shape of a cow and had paint splatters on it, a thing so ugly even Dom had the sense to hate it. When he entered the building it was into a large main area, mostly empty. A sign by the staircase with an arrow pointing upward read, “Classes, Studios.” Dom glanced around, seeing an unstaffed register and rooms to either side of the staircase full of art. Down one side he could see some of Owen’s taxidermy pieces, but all the noise was from above. He climbed the stairs.
Dom followed the voices to a large second floor room, well-lit, with all the blinds on the windows down to completely seal everyone in. There were less than ten people in the room, mostly men, all holding beers. A middle-aged white man, clean-shaven, with dirty blond hair approached Dom, holding out a can of cheap beer.
“Dom, is it?” he asked. Instead of shaking he passed the beer over. “I’m Ben Vankel. You’re the new guy tonight.”
“Thanks,” said Dom as he took the beer, not sure how else to respond.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a regular, too.”
“Isn’t this only the third class?” asked Dom, remembering what he’d seen online. Ben popped open a beer for himself and took a drink. Dom could envision Buddy’s rage at this, but then he figured he’d want to serve cheap booze, too, if he was running one of these things. Still, Dom had paid forty bucks for this class, the least Ben could have done was get quality beer.
“Charcoal and Cheers hasn’t yet found that aspiring artist who won’t come back again. Feel free to drink as much as you want. Use of supplies is covered in the cost, and you can take whatever you make with you.”
“Who’s the model tonight?” asked someone loudly from halfway across the room. Ben turned.
“Cancelled on me last moment,” he said to groans. “But I have a replacement. High school student. And you’d better watch it, because it’s Justine.”
“Who’s Justine?” asked Dom, popping the tab on his beer. Ben turned away from the murmurs and back to him.
“My daughter, and she’s off limits.”
Dom stared at him, can halfway to his lips. He knew he should be grilling Ben about where he was Sunday night through Monday afternoon, should be digging for important damning clues, but his mind stuck on what Katie had said about his classes.
“Your daughter’s the nude model? Isn’t that illegal or something?”
Ben’s smile disappeared.
“I don’t know where you got your information,” he said, voice hard, “but I don’t use nude models. And you watch it around my daughter.”
Dom stared after Ben as he turned to provide a beer to the man who just walked in. He wasn’t completely sure what was going on and everything felt just a little wrong to him. But after pissing Ben off he decided to keep a low profile, do his sketching and have a couple beers like everyone else, and tackle questioning the owner of Angus Arts later.
People were selecting stools and pencils, so
Dom joined in, finding a place in the circle. When everyone was situated Ben’s daughter came out dressed in what had to be her bathing suit, a cow print bikini. She laid a beach towel down on the floor and lay down on her stomach, arranging her hair before pretending to sleep. Maybe she was actually sleeping. Dom wasn’t sure. All he knew was he felt awkward being one of many sets of eyes staring at her.
Dom glanced around. There seemed to be no instruction here, just everyone doing whatever they felt like and drinking beer. He hesitated, distinctly uncomfortable. Why Ben couldn’t have just put a potted plant in the center of the room he didn’t know.
“Stuck?” asked Ben. He’d stopped circling around the room to pause behind Dom.
“Never done this before. I’m not sure where to start.”
“Some people start with a little curvy line for the spine, like this,” said Ben, taking Dom’s pencil and producing one long, wavy line. “Then you just…fill in. Another beer?”
“Sure,” said Dom, and “filled in” as best as he could. It was a painful two hours, and near the end he was debating even staying to talk with Ben. But that was why he’d come, after all, so when time was up and people were filing out he lingered, adding little finishing touches to his sketch and then taking forever to put away his pencils. The last person talking to Ben just wouldn’t seem to leave.
“Hey, Dad,” said a boy, maybe fifteen years old, entering the room. When the man talking to Ben saw him he turned and left, leaving Dom alone in the room with the awkward family reunion. He decided to give up; he wasn’t getting anything, and it would be too obvious to stay now, with all his supplies put away and even the model gone.
“What is it now, Christian?” asked Ben, and as Dom moved toward the door he heard what had to be one of the most common of teenage ailments.
“Can I borrow some money? You know what Mom’s like when I ask…”
Dom sure hoped he wouldn’t have to be a repeat artist next week.
* * * *
Just when things looked like they were winding down in Yolks on You and Kiko was seriously considering closing early to go home and clean, Martha and Buddy walked in, encased in puffy coats, eyes aglow. Martha said something that made Buddy laugh, and Kiko watched them stomp snow off their boots.
Egg the Halls Page 5
