Champagne Cheers

by Jules Dixon

  Matteo leaned back against the sofa. “I don’t think she’s been unfriendly. Like I told you, you’re seeing and sensing something I don’t, so stop worrying, please.”

  He might be right. I just wanted her to like him, because I didn’t just like him. I loved him. And tonight he’d find out how much.

  * * *

  The restaurant was busy. Too busy. The hostess walked us right to our table. Right in the middle of the room.

  Are you freaking kidding me?

  “Is there something more private?” I asked the hostess in my native tongue and watched as Matteo’s eyes widened. He’d told me how hearing me speak German did things to him. And when he spoke Italian, I had a similar reaction.

  “No, I’m sorry, with the concerts downtown we’re booked solid.”

  I pulled out my mother’s chair.

  “My boys are so polite.” Her blue eyes were clouded just a little from time and the last nine months of expended energy.

  “Bottle of wine?” Matteo asked, perusing the wine list.

  “Please.” I needed a drink. Or fifty.

  Mom cleared her throat. “Boys, I need to talk to you about—”

  “Guten Abend.” The waiter approached the table and introduced himself and took Matteo’s order for the wine and after we’d heard the night’s special of pork knuckle, fresh white asparagus smothered in butter, and spätzle with gravy. My stomach grumbled in response. We all three ordered the dish without hesitation.

  “Like I was saying. Boys…” Mom brushed her hair behind her ear. I’d never noticed that the lines around her eyes had deepened over the last year. “I’m selling the farm house here and I’ve decided to come back to Canada.”

  We both waited. Seemed like there was more.

  She glanced between the two of us. “And I want to continue at the bed and breakfast as the live in host. What do you think of this, Janek?”

  And here was where Matteo and I parted thinking. He’d said he’d rather live only the two of us. And I’d said the home was also my mother’s and I enjoyed having her there. It wasn’t uncommon for German families to live with generations in the house together. I’d asked him to give the arrangement a chance. He’d been reluctant to even consider the option.

  “Matteo?” She directed to him when I didn’t respond.

  “I’ll be honest with you Mrs. Becker. I’m not sure about the idea of living with my boyfriend’s mother.” Her eyebrows rose. “Mostly for privacy’s sake. I’m a pretty private person. It’s taken me a while to understand how to be part of a twosome, and now we’d be a threesome.”

  Mother’s eyebrows peaked high. “I’m sorry?”

  His face reddened and he stammered. “I … I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She chuckled. “I know, Matteo.” Reaching across the table, she lifted his hand. “I understand the sacrifices that you’ve already made in loving my son. You’ve moved, started a new job, and left your family.”

  “My family isn’t like yours. I’m not sure I can adjust to the…” He drank a long drink of his water. “I’m not sure what the right word is.”

  “Closeness? Proximity? Sharing?” From anyone else the questions might seem invasive or impolite, but from my mother they were caring and she was trying to get through to him.

  Matteo’s breathing sped. “I’ve never been a part of my mother’s life. Hell, barely a part of my father’s.”

  Nodding her head she squeezed his hand. “I’m not trying to be your mother. But I would like to be your friend, if you decide that’s okay. If Janek loves you, then I love you, and when you’re comfortable, you’re welcome to call me Ina.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  After a minute of reflection, she turned to me. “And you Janek? What do you think about the arrangement?”

  “On one hand, I’ve never not lived with you, except for your time back here in Germany. But on the other, I understand Matteo’s thoughts. Is it time for us to be on our own?”

  “And that is where I have a proposal of a different kind.”

  I sat up. “And that is?”

  “We take the money from the sale of the farm here and build another home for you and Matteo on the vineyard property.”

  I swallowed. “You’d do that?”

  “My son, I’d do anything for you.” Her eyes glassed over. “I love you, Janek, no matter what. I thought I’d made that very clear. I’m the luckiest mother in the world. I not only get to have love and raise two boys, but I get to love two more… the ones my sons love.”

  The wine was delivered and Matteo poured the German Riesling into the glasses. “I’d like to make a toast.”

  “Actually, could I?” I asked as my fingers slipped on the wine glass. Nerves rumbled like hunger low in my stomach.

  “Of course.”

  “Matteo, you came into my life at the lowest point, nothing seemed to be going right, and everything was definitely going wrong. Now everything is right and nothing is wrong. I can’t imagine what life would be like without you and I don’t want to.” I stood and slowly dropped to one knee. It wasn’t graceful, but it was effective to stop all the conversations in the room. I lowered my voice. “I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

  Matteo’s gaze never left mine. “I don’t know.”

  * * *

  Matteo

  I stood and lifted Janek to stand. “Let’s go outside and talk.” I turned to Ina. “Mrs. Becker, we need a few minutes.”

  “I understand. I’ll have the kitchen keep your food warm.”

  I pulled him along behind me as gazes followed us the whole way.

  I wanted to say “yes,” but I wanted to make sure we were truly in this together, too.

  Alone.

  I liked his mother. I really liked her. I thought she and I could be close. Maybe closer than my own mother … but I needed space, too. I liked her idea, but I didn’t want the silver band he’d held out, with his gaze so hopeful and his hand shaking, to be connected to the house she wanted to build for him … or us. I couldn’t tell which it really was. And I’d always imagined when I built a home it would be one that I paid for, not my boyfriend’s mother. My pride was genes deep and I changing that part of me might not happen.

  I guided him around the edge of the building away from prying eyes of people waiting for a table. “First, I love you and your proposal was a surprise, in a good way.”

  Janek’s shoulders lowered slightly and he stopped staring at the ground. “Then why can’t you say yes?”

  “Janek, this dinner has been a hard hitting one. We’ve found out your mother’s returning the Canada, she wants her house back, and she wants to give us a house. Don’t you think we need to think about this?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t.” The words bit at me from his mouth. “I love you. I want to be your husband for the rest of my life.” Hurt dripped from every syllable. I was trying to be logical here.

  I stared into his eyes, the blue faded to denim color. “I need to think about this.”

  “This isn’t about thinking. This is about feeling. What do you feel?”

  “First thing I said out here was that I love you. I know you believe this. I know you can feel it. But again, we need to talk out the details of your mother. If it were my mother, I’d listen to what you had to say.”

  He nodded. “That’s true. But your father’s given us things and money, too.”

  He’d helped finance the purchase of new land and new equipment. I’m sure Janek had told his mother. I didn’t want it to be a competition between the two of them either.

  “That’s true.” My heart hopscotched in my chest tightening the muscles. “I still think we should talk tonight and make a plan.”

  “For the future?”

  “Yes. And decide what we want that future to look like.”

  Janek’s love was a gift and I didn’t want to dismiss what he meant to me. I stepped closer. “I love you.
I will always love you.”

  “Let’s eat and then we will talk.” The words were gruff and almost hurt my ears. He walked back into the restaurant without looking back. He was hurt and I understood why. Now to eat with his mother and the other people in the room wondering what the hell happened.

  Fun.

  * * *

  Dinner was basically like an eating car race. I swore Mrs. Becker had paid the bill before we even started.

  “Have a good evening.” Ina kissed my cheek. “You’re a good man, Matteo. He loves you.”

  “I love him, too. It’ll all work out, and please know I’m grateful for your offer. We need to decide what’s best for us. Have a good night.”

  “He needs that kind of logic in his life. My Janek has always been sensitive and finds his way with his heart. Sometimes we do need to think with our head.”

  “Thank you.”

  Janek led us out of the restaurant. “Good night, Mother.”

  “Good night, sons.”

  Back at the rental, I slipped out of my light jacket and waited for Janek to start the conversation.

  I poured a small glass of the Italian digestif, Fernet-Branca. I’d purchased the bottle of the dark caramel-colored, bitter liquor the evening before, after eating one of the biggest meals I ever had, made by Mrs. Becker. My pants fit a little snugger this morning. And now, after a hunk of pork, a pile of asparagus and noodles, and Black Forest gateau—chocolate heaven cake with cherries and kirsch flavoring—for dessert, my stomach was becoming Vesuvius from the food and nerves. To calm the boiling distress inside of me, I sipped the liquor.

  Janek paced in front of the coffee table. He needed to focus on what he wanted to say because whatever it was, I definitely couldn’t say it for him. We loved each other. For me that was the most important thing.

  “So, you don’t want my mother living with us?”

  “I like her a lot, Janek, but yes, I think that you and I need our space.”

  His eyebrows peaked for a second. “Okay, I can see that. But you also don’t want her building a home for us?”

  I had to take another sip and think for a second. “I don’t want to feel like her generosity is why I’m with you. Ever. You mean more to me than dollar signs. I don’t want to devalue you like my father sometimes made me feel. You aren’t a possession or thing in my life. Janek, you are everything in my life.” And there it was.

  He fell to his knees in front of me. “Baby, you’ll never make me feel like I’m less than what you need and want. You’re one of the most loving people I’ve ever met. Your father has issues; we’ve been over this a million times. You can’t believe that you’re going to follow in his footsteps. You’re not him.”

  “Will you ask me again?”

  He tried to stop a smirk from happening, but the fight was lost. “Ask you what?” he asked innocently.

  I cocked my head. “You’re going to make me beg for it?”

  “No, I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming for me to ask and we’ll see if I ask you.”

  I’d tried to find love through sex with other men. I’d found love before sex with Janek. My past had cracks in the walls. I’d put an emotional plaster over them. With his attention and patience, I’d torn down layers of hurt and attempts at connection without feeling. Janek helped me understand that examining the past was necessary to move forward with him in the future.

  His hands slid down my chest, and lifted my t-shirt. Soft, slick lips caressed every inch of my stomach. A cool breeze came in the window and zapped my skin where his lips left a trail of wetness. I shivered, long and deep.

  “Bedroom?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I want you right here on this sofa.” He motioned to the table. “And then right over there.” He listed his head toward the wall. “And right there.” He motioned toward the counter. “And right over there.”

  “You can have me anywhere you want, my love.”

  He pulled down my jeans and underwear while I worked my shirt over my head. Frantic movements had my heart beating faster. Janek lifted me and laid me on the couch. He quickly stripped his clothes and before I could take a deep breath his body was pressing into mine. The pressure of his weight made me feel him in a different way. We were meant to be with each other. Right here.

  I lifted my legs and he rest between them. His long, slightly curved dick pressed into my stomach along side of my own cock. I reached between us and jacked him. I loved playing the game to edge him closer and closer and then backing off. He loved getting me to my grand finale quickly and that worked for me, too.

  I rolled my thumb over the head of his cock and brought the pre-cum up to my mouth to taste. He was sweet and sticky, with a hint of lemon. “Damn, someone’s been drinking pineapple juice.”

  “Maybe.”

  That was Janek. Always looking for ways to surprise me.

  “What do you want, Janek?” I’d give him whatever he wanted at this point. My stomach heated and my cock pulsed as images of our future flashed through my head.

  “To be inside of you.”

  “Thank God.”

  He pushed off the sofa and ran to the bedroom, a zipper on a suitcase ticked down, and he came jogging back into the room. I stilled to admire his form—broad, round shoulders and a trim waist, with smooth tanned skin over tight and taut chest.

  The last rays of sunlight cracked through the window, giving the room and all in it that antique sepia tone. I imagined him and I growing old together and I couldn’t stop myself. There was always a moment with him that I could honestly say I lost myself and he found me. And it always made me blessed to have him in my life.

  As his cock pressed for entry to my body, I held his face in my hands. “Yes,” I slowly gave him permission for bareback. He always waited to make sure. We’d agreed if one of us decided we wanted to protect ourselves, there would always be respect and no arguments. But tests had said we were fine anyway. He popped through the tight ring into my body. Flesh to flesh, slick to hard, soft to firm. “Yes,” I moaned and bucked my hips up toward his. “Yes!” I called out when he started to drive hard and fast, the nerves exploding in my stomach and reverberating in my head. “Yes, harder.” Every “yes” meant more and more.

  His hand slipped to my cock and rocked along my length, the motion sending a rush of heat through my body. My cock jumped in his hand and I grunted. I wanted to wait for him, but damn the man had a hold over me.

  I tightened my ass cheeks to get him closer and he cussed a line of expletives. I had some tricks to play, too. He reached under me and lifted me up. He stood and took me with him. He loved carrying me around when I was impaled on his cock. I loved it, too. He backed me up against the wall and started to drive slowly in and out of my body. Each thrust was better than the last, making my whole body sizzle and pop. He would slow the exit and speed the entry, igniting nerves inside of me that I didn’t know were there.

  “Fuck. Yes.”

  Janek was torturing me, but in the best way. He slowed his next plunge until I felt every ridge, vein, and slick spot of his cock.

  I groaned as my body shook with a quake of pleasure. “Yes.” The word was moaned long and soft in his ear. He grunted back. I closed my eyes and waited for his body to speak to me.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight and warm. I’m losing it.” He started to speed up, but he stopped.

  I opened my eyes.

  “Matteo Dominic Bonacci III, I love you and I want you to be my husband.” He drew his cock slowly from my body and then like he was sewing fine silk, he threaded it slowly into me. “Matteo, will you marry me?”

  I smashed my mouth to his. His legs shook, but he kept a hold of me. He carried me to the table and dropped my ass onto the cold Formica. Janek never let me come up for air, but insisted that we remained connected in both places. His cock thrust faster and faster. His tongue searched frantically in my mouth. I rolled against him. Jack hammering his cock in and out of my body, he gave
me a little reprieve with his mouth and I gasped for air.

  And then the white pressure of my finish ghosted through me. “Yes! Yes! I will marry you, Janek Becker.”

  He sunk into my body one last time and we shook together.

  Uncoupling our bodies, he carried me into the bedroom and brought me down on top of him on the bedspread.

  “I’ll tell my mother we’re moving out tomorrow morning. You’re right. We need our own place and we need to pay for it ourselves.”

  I curled into his body, the warmth welcome in the cooling room. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He ran into the living room. I heard a loud pop from the kitchen and he returned carrying two champagne flutes and a tiny box in his other hand.

  He handed a flute over and held his up. “To our future, may it hold surprises and happiness, and to you, Mr. Becker.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to take your name?”

  “Oh, I have ways of making it happen.”

  His lips pressed to mine and then he skimmed down my chest to my stomach and lower.

  “Cheers to that.”

  ~THE END~

  Thank you!

  Thank you for purchasing Champagne Cheers. Please consider leaving a review at your place of purchase to help other readers find stories they might enjoy, too.

  <3 Jules

  Coming soon!

  2017 Collection of Holiday Hotties:

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