by Cooper, R.
“Yeah,” Cory admitted, growing huskier the closer Vincent got. “Yeah.” He pulled Vincent’s glasses from his face and reached out to put them safely on the coffee table.
Vincent exhaled against Cory’s mouth, then ducked his head. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
“Vin,” Cory interrupted him before Vincent could bemoan the fact that Cory had planned and schemed and cooked for him, and all Vincent had done was make pie. Vincent lifted his gaze to meet his magnificent eyes. “I did it for me too,” Cory told him. “It’s Thanksgiving. You should spend the day with people you want to be with.”
“Serious?” Vincent wondered in awe, and gave only a small shiver as Cory pushed his hands under his shirt and splayed his fingers over his bare skin.
“Serious,” Cory affirmed, and seemed to like it when Vincent surged forward to kiss him again.
He seemed to like it a lot.
