by Ofelia Grand
“Perhaps…a minute.” The words were whispered against his lips before Otho resumed exploring his mouth.
Mason straddled him, not sure how far this would go, but needing more contact. His hands wandered over Otho’s shoulders, down over his arms, and up again until he had his fingers buried in his dark hair. He rolled his hips, desperate for contact, and there was contact.
Otho moaned and rubbed against him. Shit. Mason was already panting. “Please,” he breathed in Otho’s ear.
Otho nodded. “What?”
“I don’t care, just…Touch me.”
Otho had big hands, strong hands, and they found their way in under his sweater.
“Yes.” The rough fingers roamed his torso, alternating between gently teasing and kneading. Mason moaned and begged, but Otho took his time exploring.
Grabbing the hem of the sweater, Mason pulled it over his head and threw it on the floor. Before he could say or do anything, he was on his back on the sofa with Otho leaning over him. “You’re in a hurry?” The grin, Mason realized, was way more confident than any he’d seen on him before.
“Yes. Yes, please hurry.”
Otho kissed his way down his throat. “Nah, I’m not in a hurry.”
Mason huffed a laugh. “What about the groceries?”
“Oh, playing dirty, are we?” The tone was teasing, but the touches turned more urgent.
“If it works.”
Otho said nothing, but since he pulled off the dark blue sweats, Mason figured it did.
“So hot.”
Warm air tickled the skin on his thigh and then he groaned as Otho took him in his mouth. No teasing now.
“Shit.” Mason forced himself to remain still despite wanting to thrust into Otho’s mouth. The warm, wet touches was driving him mad with lust.
“Otho.”
His skin grew tight and his muscles quivered as Otho continued to suck and lick and tease. He almost begged for him to stop when he swallowed him down deep. Strong fingers curled around the base of his cock, giving him the pressure he needed, at the same time as Otho drove him out of his mind with his mouth.
Every breath he took ended in a moan, every touch brought him closer to climax. “Otho.”
The tingles started in his feet and crawled up his legs only to pool in his balls. Otho pumped his cock, and that was enough to tip him over the edge. For a second there was nothing but pleasure and soaring freedom, then Otho kissed him, bringing him back to the here and now.
“You’re so fucking hot.” The words were spoken in a growl and Mason watched as Otho, standing on his knees next to the sofa, pushed down his jeans and fisted himself. His skin was flushed, his cock straining. Mason moaned again and ran his hands up Otho’s hairy chest.
“Gods.” Mason sat and covered Otho’s mouth with his, swallowing the sounds he made. The light from the Christmas tree shone on Otho’s bare skin and Mason breathed in the scent of pine and sex.
Fondling Otho’s balls, Mason stroked behind them, and sucked on Otho’s tongue. It didn’t take long before Otho came, neatly wiping up with Mason’s sweater before anything landed on the sofa or carpet.
“That was…nice.” Mason hadn’t more than spoken the words before a car turned up the driveway.
“Shit.” Otho wiped his forehead and gave him an apologetic look. “That’s Joslyn, and she doesn’t wait to be let in.”
“Damn!” Mason sprang to his feet, frantically grabbing his clothes and wrinkling his nose as he picked up the spunk-covered sweater. “What do I do?”
Otho chuckled as they heard a car door being shut. “Run for the shower.”
Mason bent down and kissed him. “Sorry for bailing.” Then he ran for the bathroom.
* * * *
Otho pulled up his jeans and buttoned them as Joslyn reached the stairs. He dived for the bedroom and pulled on a clean shirt.
A knock and then, “Hello.”
Otho ran a hand over his hair as the shower came on in the bathroom. “In here.” He went for the living room and smiled at Joslyn who gave him a stern look.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” He tried for innocence.
“Yeah, right. We can’t continue like this. You need to fix a new phone. I’ve called.”
Right, phone. “Sorry. We went to Northfield to shop.” He gestured at the kitchen and winced when he saw the unpacked grocery bags. Damn.
Hurrying to the kitchen table, he began unpacking. Joslyn watched him with narrowed eyes the entire time.
“You ate there or are you cooking?”
“We ate there. Pizza.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Pizza?”
“Yup, pizza.” Shit, why was his heart beating so fast? “Christmas dinner tomorrow, though. You’ll be here, right?”
Her eyes roamed his face. “Of course.”
“Great.” He grinned and hid by focusing on the shelves in the refrigerator.
“So…” She pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Anything fun happening at work today?” The water stopped running in the shower and Otho hoped Mason had enough sense to dress before he came out. He didn’t have any shirt to put on, though. Shit, he should probably have put one outside the bathroom door.
“Not really. I think I need a glass of wine to revive my memory.” There was a small tug at the corner of her mouth.
“Bitch.” He took a glass and poured her some wine from the pantry, but he couldn’t help but grin when he placed it in front of her.
“I have a working sense of smell, you know.”
“I know that.”
“You’re going to pretend this whole place doesn’t smell of sex.” And there the bathroom door opened.
“Yup.”
She snorted and took a sip of wine. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
Otho didn’t have a fucking clue what he was doing, but he hoped Mason wouldn’t be running back to the resort before he’d at least had the chance to talk to him.
* * * *
Mason woke slowly, stretched, and breathed in the most wonderful scent—pine and Otho. He looked around the bedroom in the dim light from the strand of tiny light bulbs shining in the window.
Last night had been a bit awkward, or more than a bit. Joslyn had hung around until late in the evening, almost as if she waited for him to leave. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps Otho had wanted him to leave while Mason had waited for Joslyn to leave so they could be alone together.
Next to him, Otho was sleeping, fully dressed, and balancing on the edge of the bed. Mason winced. He hadn’t meant to steal the bed and wasn’t it strange that he’d gone to bed fully clothed when they’d had sex earlier in the evening?
He probably should’ve left.
It was Christmas morning, of course he should’ve left. Joslyn was right. He had an expensive room at the resort, there were food and a change of clothes.
But there was no man sleeping next to him there, no one who smiled at him or sat close to him on the sofa. Joel was big on distance and he’d never allowed Mason to curl up next to him, he had never held him like Otho did when they watched TV.
“What are you thinking?”
Mason jumped at Otho’s gravelly voice. “What?”
“You were frowning.”
“Oh…yeah, just thinking. I should probably…erm…get going.” He glanced at Otho, wishing he’d stop him and keep him in this winter fairytale.
“Yeah…” Otho looked away and rubbed his beard. “But first breakfast.”
First breakfast? Mason could eat. “That would be lovely, thank you.” He smiled and gazed into Otho’s eyes, squashing the idea of leaning over the bed to kiss him when he saw the guarded look there. He rolled away and put his feet on the floor. “Ugh! Cold.” He almost yanked his feet back up again.
Otho jumped up and fished out a pair of socks from a drawer. “Here. The bedroom is always a little too cold these days.”
Mason pulled on t
he socks and smiled a thanks.
“Come on.” Otho grabbed his hand, tugging him away from the bed. He could’ve let go of Mason’s hand as they went into the living room, but he didn’t, and Mason did nothing to pull away. The warmth of the touch sent tingles up his arm.
“Have a seat.” Otho smiled. It was a little stiff, but there was warmth in his eyes. He took out some bread from the pantry and opened the refrigerator. Mason watched curiously, wondering if he’d fill the kitchen with food again. Otho turned and looked at him while holding the refrigerator door open.
Mason smiled, but it slipped away when Otho frowned at him. Shit, perhaps he should leave right now, before breakfast.
Otho closed the refrigerator without taking out anything and stalked out of the kitchen. Mason’s eyebrows shot up. What happened?
Seconds later, Otho appeared with a beautifully wrapped gift in his hand. “Merry Christmas.”
Mason stared at him. “For me?”
Otho shrugged, his cheeks getting a little flushed. “It’s Christmas.”
“Yes.” Mason narrowed his eyes. “When did you get this?”
Otho looked away. “I always keep a few spare ones.”
“Spare gifts?” Mason’s chest warmed. He didn’t think he’d ever met someone who kept spare Christmas presents.
“It’s silly, I know, but it’s Christmas and everyone should get a gift. It’s nothing special, only to show a little appreciation.”
“Appreciation? For what? I’ve done nothing but complicate your life, taken up your time, eaten your food—”
“It’s just a gift, Mason.”
Just a gift. Mason nodded. He never got gifts. “Thank you.”
“I enjoy having you here. I…Never mind.” He shrugged and nodded at Mason to open the gift.
He wanted to know what Otho had been about to say but tore the red paper off and stared at the small cardboard box. Opening the lid, he peered down at a beautifully crafted ceramic mug with a dark blue glaze, filled with chocolate pralines. “It’s beautiful.” A lump formed in his throat. Stupid. It’s just a mug.
Otho shrugged again, but at least he was smiling. “I figured you should have something.” He turned around, but Mason caught his hand and got to his feet.
“Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around Otho and held him close. His heart thudding in his chest as he breathed in his scent. After a second of hesitation, Otho’s arms curled around him in return.
* * * *
Otho reveled in the solid feel of Mason’s body against his. Joslyn would bitch to the end of eternity when Mason left and Otho sulked, but it didn’t stop him. Slowly, he pulled Mason flush against his chest at the same time as he leaned into him. He tilted his head a fraction.
Mason’s breath ghosted over his skin and he wet his lips in what could’ve been a nervous gesture. Otho tried catching his eyes to see if a kiss would be welcomed. He always misread situations like this, which was the main reason he’d moved out here. Too many times had he given his heart only to watch Prince Charming get out of his bed the next morning with a thanks and see you around. Kisses the morning after weren’t always welcome.
All thoughts fled his mind when Mason gripped his arm and met his gaze. His hazel eyes had darkened, his pupils dilated. Otho held his breath.
“Are you gonna kiss me?” Mason’s whisper touched his lips in a warm caress.
Otho dug his fingertips into Mason’s back. “Are you gonna run back to the resort?” He didn’t recognize his voice; it was nothing but a deep rumble.
Mason held his gaze for a second before closing his eyes and touching his lips to Otho’s. The sizzle rushing through him made him want to throw Mason on the sofa again. Otho had kissed quite a few guys, but none of them made him react like Mason did. He tightened his hold, and he wasn’t planning to let go, ever.
Mason groaned and Otho licked the seam of his lips, wanting to taste. With a gasp, Mason let him in and Otho was lost—lost in the warmth, lost in desire. This was right, Mason was right. He broke the kiss, hearing Joslyn’s voice in his mind telling him Mason wasn’t the one. But what if he was?
With a trembling breath, Mason opened his eyes. “You were saying?”
Otho grinned, but the words he wanted to say didn’t come. “I don’t want to scare you off.”
Mason frowned. “You’re not—”
“How about coffee?” He started to move away, but Mason didn’t let go. Instead, he pushed against Otho, his erection pressing against Otho’s and he hissed with want.
“That was not what you were about to say.” Mason kissed his neck. “Damn, you smell so good.”
Otho swallowed, his hands wandering over Mason’s back. “Maybe…erm…we should—” Mason cut him off with another kiss, his tongue teasing, his lips divine. Then he stopped and looked into Otho’s eyes.
“You want me to go?” There was uncertainty and maybe a little hurt in his voice. “Is that what you’re trying to say? I’m a bit slow, never good at sensing when I’m not welcome, and I know I’m…too much, too clingy—”
“No!” Otho hugged him closer. Too much? Whoever had told Mason he was too much ought to be punished. “No. I want you to stay.”
“Stay?”
Otho’s pulse was speeding up. Perhaps he’d read Mason all wrong. “Spend Christmas with me?”
“Here?” Mason’s eyes widened. “You’d allow me to stay?”
Allow? “You should’ve listened to Joslyn.” He grinned, but it almost immediately started to slip. This was exactly what Joslyn meant. He hadn’t known Mason for more than a couple of days and already he wanted to keep him, wanted him to promise not to go away, that he would never leave. Nothing scared a guy more than a hook-up saying things like that. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from begging Mason to stay a little longer.
“She was serious about killing me?” Mason’s face was expressionless, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“What? No. Did she say that?” She would have. Joslyn was the best friend he’d ever had, but sometimes she took her job of protecting him a little too seriously.
“More hissed it when you weren’t listening.”
Otho chuckled. “I meant the part about me not letting you out of my sight.”
“Really? You’d let me stay?” He blinked a little too fast and Otho wondered yet again if he’d read the situation all wrong.
“I’d love you to stay.”
The kiss was more aggressive than the previous ones and Otho made a sound of surprise.
“Sorry.” Mason ran a thumb over his lips and grinned, making Otho’s heart skip a beat. “I really, really want to stay, but—” Oh here it comes. Otho steeled himself for the rejection, “—you’re not asking out of pity, are you?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?” Otho ran his hands over Mason’s back.
“Well, I have nothing, you know. Once I leave here, I’ll probably end up telling my mother about Joel and she’ll insist on me moving back home.” Desperation crept into his eyes. “I can’t move in with Mom, Otho. I love her, but the woman drives me nuts. And I don’t even have an office I have to go to, I do all my work from home, which means I’d be at home all the time.”
Otho grinned, not that it was funny that Mason had lost most of what he owned. “It’ll be all right.”
Mason blew out a breath. “I’d love to stay.”
“Good.” Otho kissed his forehead. “Let’s have breakfast and then go get your stuff at the resort. Perhaps you can get a refund for the nights you aren’t staying there.”
A weight lifted from Otho’s shoulders.
This Christmas would be magical.
* * * *
Mason breathed in deeply as he entered the resort. Otho was walking next to him, smiling and waving at people they passed. The resort looked different from how he remembered it. It was still swanky. The people gathering in the lobby probably made more money in a month than he did in a year, but it wasn’t too bad.
<
br /> There was a line by the counter and Mason slowed his steps. His key card had been in his pocket when he’d gone through the ice and while he still had it, he doubted it would work.
“I’m here to see Mason Dager, could you tell me what room he’s in?”
Mason stumbled. He’d recognize Joel’s voice anywhere, the sharp way he spoke, the slightly condescending tone he always used.
“What’s wrong?” Otho touched his hand and Mason jumped. A flash of hurt shone in Otho’s eyes before he concealed it. Mason reached for his hand and laced their fingers.
“That’s Joel, my ex.” He nodded toward the counter and Otho turned his gaze in Joel’s direction. The suit Joel wore fit him perfectly, his fair hair as immaculate as always. He was shorter than Mason, but he couldn’t be described as short. Mason watched as he smiled at the woman behind the counter in that charming way of his and felt nothing, nothing apart from shame for having been so easily fooled.
“You want to go to him?” Otho’s face was a blank mask.
“Yes, let’s talk to him before he makes a scene.”
Otho began letting go of his hand, but Mason wouldn’t let him, he tightened his grip and pulled Otho along. “Joel.” He smiled, it was most likely an insane-looking smile, but he didn’t care.
“Mason, honey.” Joel’s gaze skidded to Otho and, for a second, there was surprise on his face. “Who’s this?”
“What are you doing here?” Mason tried not to sound annoyed, but why did he have to come here and ruin Christmas?
“I’ve called and called, but I only get voicemail.”
The phone hadn’t survived the dip in the river. Mason realized he should probably call home in case his mom was trying to reach him too. It was Christmas, so of course she’d call.
Joel softened his eyes, something that would’ve worked a couple of months ago. How couldn’t Mason have seen the falseness?
“I got worried.”
“Sure. Funny how you worry now.” Anger, hot and dangerous, coursed through him.
“Baby, please, it’s a misunderstanding.” He glanced at Otho again, a frown appearing when he looked at their interlaced hands. “I’ll sort it out. I just needed a little money, and everything will be solved.” Joel pouted. It was unattractive, but it probably would’ve worked on him in the past. Mason held in a snort. A little money! He didn’t have enough to pay the bar tab now attached to his room.
