And as he stood at the corner an idea began to form in his mind. Just the sort of thing he knew Flynn would love. Of course, he would have to pull things together quickly because the longer he lingered in the desert, the more likely he would be discovered, whether by his own kind or by the demons, neither mattered. Perhaps he could find another place for them, someplace a bit removed from the city.
Samuel flexed his wings and rose quickly above the city. Someone down on the street started crying, blubbering.
“I’m sorry, Flynn,” he grumbled. “I should have been here more. Instead I neglected you, threw you aside for my own selfish reasons. Hopefully I can still make things right. Hopefully you haven’t given up on me yet.”
* * * *
Being out in the crowds did very little for his current emotional state. He wasn’t used to feeling so much…sorrow? He didn’t even know if that was the right word, didn’t really care either. He saw the lovers walking hand in hand and it made him long for his angel lover even more. And his brothers, just as he figured they were out enjoying themselves, dining on the lost and desperate souls seeking some sort of solace during the holiday season. Why couldn’t he bring himself to join them? Just throw on a Santa hat and have a few good frolics in the bed with some stranger? That was how he should be spending his holiday.
Not moping.
“Well…fuck,” he grumbled, snapping back to the sanctity of his bedroom. If he had been hoping to find a touch of solace in the comfort of familiarity, he was wrong. It seemed the memory of Samuel refused to stop plaguing him, dogging his every waking minute. He heard the laughter of his lover, the way it made him feel something more than a lowly creature slinking around in the darkness. Samuel had a way of doing that, making him more than a demon. It was one of the many things he loved about the angel. “Oh, let me count the ways…”
He turned back to the window, the expanse of the city, and knew, somewhere out there, Samuel was doing his thing; whatever the hell that entailed. He didn’t fight; it wasn’t part of his nature. He was a lover, tasting the dark little bits of a human soul that was why he existed.
Flynn leaned on the windowsill. “I wish you would come to me. Be more than a memory.” He drew designs on the window with his fingertip. “Be more than a dream. Come to me, please, Sammie.” The shoppers continued on their journeys uninterrupted. “All those people down there looking for the perfect gift and I know exactly what I want for Christmas. I want you, Samuel; you’re all that I want. Nothing more. Just you.”
The temperature of the room fluctuated and for the briefest moment Flynn felt like he wasn’t alone. Despite the ghostly reflections in the window, he half expected to find his winged lover waiting by the bed when he turned to examine the room. His heart sank just a little when he realized it was not to be, and then he spotted the little white square atop the blanket. An eyebrow arched in surprise. There was no reason for him to cross the space to see who had left the note. He picked up on the trace of Samuel’s scent; it always reminded him of clean laundry and freshly fallen rain.
Had Samuel been waiting all this time for him to make his wish known? For him to declare his wanting? It should have bothered him, the thought of the angel watching him; instead, he found it even more arousing. How long had Samuel been waiting and watching for the right moment? Not that it mattered in the long run. Finally, his angel had come.
He forced himself to draw out the anticipation, taking slow, measured steps. Memories of Samuel dominated his thoughts, from the moment they first met to the kiss that started it all, and even the first time they fell into bed together. By the time he reached the bed, he was so aroused, every fiber of his being on fire. Flynn ran a finger over the envelope, feeling the familiar hum of his lover’s energy. The front bore his name in a flourish of gold ink. He plucked it from the bed, treating it like a delicate bloom. It smelled like Samuel. Flynn’s heart raced. With a finger, he pried up the flap. Inside he found a white card with gold embossed wings. In the same handwriting as the front was an address and a time. Flynn smiled.
It was about freakin’ time the two of them got together for a little playtime.
He could already feel the trace of fingers on his skin.
He didn’t even bother with getting dressed, his pants still undone, he wouldn’t be wearing them too long if things went the right way. Had he been human, he would have had the trouble of Las Vegas traffic, but he didn’t need to give the inconvenience a second thought. Sometimes being a demon had its privileges. Flynn made sure he was presentable, as in delectable from his bare feet to the curved horns on his head. Then he snapped his fingers, popping up instantly outside the listed address. The remains of what used to be a house stood in the middle of the dark desert. A million stars twinkled overhead. At his sudden arrival, the night critters gave up their nightly song, not that he cared. All of his attention was on the ramshackle building. Judging by the size, it may at one time have been the home of an eccentric rich person or, knowing Vegas, a brothel along the outskirts of town, one last taste of skin before hitting the long stretches of faded blacktop.
The air, downright cold to mortals, was pleasantly cool against his warm skin as he started toward the dwelling. He could still feel the lingering heat of the sun in the sand under his bare feet. Drawing closer to the mansion, he wondered why his lover would pick such an out of the way place, not something more lush and befitting of an angel. For a moment, he wondered if perhaps Samuel thought sleeping with him meant the angel was slumming, but all it took was a memory of the way Samuel touched him to reassure Flynn that was not the case. The things Samuel did had reason.
And as if to prove that point, a white envelope was taped to the front door, a cooler resting on the steps. Flynn arched an eyebrow. He pulled the envelope free and retrieved the message inside. The same handwriting, the same scent. With eyes closed, Flynn inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of feathers and sunshine and something he could only think to describe as purity, though it was a bit more tainted than last time by his touch. He couldn’t wait to be completely enveloped by the aroma, to have it overwhelm his senses. Flynn read the note.
I have been away far too long and regret it. No amount of apologizing feels like it will be sufficient enough to make things up to you, Flynn. And so I want to play a game with my little morsel of darkness. Don’t go being a spoil sport. Trust me; it’ll be worth the effort. So pick up the cooler and step inside.
“What have you got in mind?” mused Flynn, doing as instructed, every trace of melancholy long gone. With the cooler in hand he pushed open the door listening to the squeal of the rusty hinges. The place smelled musty and old and untouched by human hands for far too long. But it wasn’t hard for him to pick on the trace of his lover. How easy it would have been to follow the trail and wind up in the arms of an angel, but he had to admit, he was intrigued at the little game Samuel set up. What could it hurt to play along?
Walking further into the house, a grand staircase sweeping before him, rooms branched off in three directions. Flynn wasn’t sure where to start first. Suddenly a candle sparked to life off to his right. As if someone hit “play” Christmas music began to filter from unseen speakers. A woman sang in a breathy voice about all the things she wanted darling Santa to place under her tree.
“So you’re watching, Samuel, hm? Kinky. You certainly know how to make a fella feel appreciated.”
He stirred up dust as he walked across the creaking wooden floor. Beside the candle he found a Christmas card. Three buff men, each one covering his package, were dressed as naughty elves. What an absolutely splendid Christmas card, definitely his style. Flynn appreciated the eye candy before opening it to find a note.
You’ll find your first reward item if you follow this clue. I am delicious and can be found in the supermarket checkout line.
“Chocolate.”
Flynn looked at the table, home to only the candle now. He frowned. Where was he supposed to find the chocolate? Turning to face t
he rest of the room, he quickly scanned its few remaining contents, a little bugged that Samuel got around without leaving a single footprint in the dust. Draped in cloth, a sofa sat between two chairs, one stained, the other torn apart. There was a threadbare carpet and a bar running along one wall.
“Oh, you clever little angel, you,” he said.
Behind the bar he found a much smaller cooler wrapped in a strand of garland. Popping the lid revealed a bottle of chocolate sauce. A devilish grin played across his lips. Suspecting Samuel was keeping an eye on him, Flynn flipped the top of the bottle and squeezed a little sauce onto his finger. He stuck it in his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. A shiver of sheer anticipation passed through his body. He felt the familiar stirrings of arousal. Flynn grabbed the garland, noting the little tag that read “take me, too”, draping it around his neck like a scarf. At this point he could only imagine what awaited him at the end of the game. He was already picturing Samuel covered in chocolate sauce.
“Yum,” he purred.
The candle winked out, another one beckoning him to the next room. The kitchen. The Christmas card portrayed a man in a pair of socks, nothing else, a stuffed stocking strategically placed. It took Flynn a second to realize the man was actually his yummy little angel, biting down on his bottom lip. Too bad the pesky stocking was in the way, though he knew what sort of goods it hid. Samuel had been blessed, no pun intended, with a very lovely…stocking. He could have stood there staring at the card all night, but where would that get him? Then he had a thought. Quickly he checked the first card, dismayed to notice it void of Samuel. Still, the message was loud and clear. And Flynn couldn’t deny he was enjoying the game. Flipping open the second card, he chuckled at the words.
A very cold moo.
He didn’t really have to think about where to look next, the kitchen practically empty, thus making the green elf hat stand out. Samuel had stuffed it behind the handle of the freezer. Flynn placed it on his head, purposely hanging it off one horn. Inside the freezer he found another little cooler, this one containing a pint of ice cream. Plain vanilla, but still oh so promising. It joined the chocolate sauce. Turning in a slow circle, he gauged the direction of his next clue. No point going back the way he came, good chance he wasn’t supposed to take the door leading to the backyard, so he followed his only other option, finding himself back in the grand hall. A strand of lights that had not been there previously ran along the banister. Much to his surprise a candle sparked to life off to his left.
Outside.
Eyebrow arched in silent question, Flynn let the light beckon him outside. On the back deck Flynn found a table without chairs. In the middle was a bowl of fruit and another card. Eagerly, he plucked the card from its spot, eyeing the candy on the front. This time, Flynn was presented with Samuel’s backside, a sack of toys draped over his shoulder and concealing the cheeks Flynn loved to squeeze. He would let his hands follow the contours of Samuel’s body until they led him to a firm ass. Who knew an angel could have such desirable assets? He opened the card, ready for the next clue. With each one, he got a little closer to the present at the end. Inside, his angel taped a thick peppermint stick.
This one is a freebie. Grab the cherries. Enjoy your minty little treat.
Flynn dropped the jar of cherries into his cooler, then pried the candy free. Back in his bedroom, he had a jar full of peppermints. All because of Samuel. For reasons he could not explain, kissing the angel was like sucking on a mouthful of mints. Only, even an entire bag wasn’t enough to accurately replicate the sensation. Flynn ran his tongue slowly along the peppermint stick, eyes closed. Slowly he drew it into his mouth, moaning just slightly. He pulled it in and out, mind flooded with previous rendezvous involving Samuel. If he hadn’t been aroused before, he certainly was now. More than ever he was ready to end the little game and get his promised reward. Sucking on the peppermint, he ventured back into the house. The lights on the banister were blinking.
A definite come-hither.
Taking the flight of stairs, he enjoyed the sensation of the fabric rubbing against his ever-hardening erection. It was a good thing he could hold off; after all, none of it would be any fun without Samuel. On the second landing, he came face to face with the card stuck fast to the wall with a pushpin. His beloved, yet again, this time standing before a table, a bowl of walnuts strategically placed. Flynn smiled, carefully removing it, not wanting to ruin the image. Every single one of the cards was going to go somewhere safe back at his place, so he could have them in those times when Samuel was out of reach. He hated that those times were so frequent and so very long.
“‘Last one’,” he read, “‘In other forms I can make you smooth.’” He moved the peppermint stick back and forth in his mouth, mulling the clue. “What do you mean, my lovely angel, what do you mean…”
He let his gaze drift over the hallway. It dawned on him. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, wanting to find his reward. In the medicine cabinet he found a spray can of whipped cream, depositing it with all the other treats. Just looking at them was enough to send his mind into all sorts of dirty places. The things he could do…A strand of lights sat on the countertop just to the side of the sink. He picked them up, adding them to his collection. Back out in the hallway, he saw that the door at the far end was suddenly open. Giddy, he strolled towards it, excited about what waited on the other side. He toed the door open to reveal, of all things, a really nice bedroom. While the rest of the house was falling apart, dusty, moldy, forgotten, the bedroom was like stepping into another place. Knowing the tricks of his kind as well as the angels, it was quite possible it was in another place. Not that he cared. It looked like his Christmas wish was about to come true. He was within reach of his present.
The bed looked lush. The candles were just right. An instrumental version of a popular Christmas song played on low. Everything was perfect, save for the fact his angel was missing. As if on cue, a hand snaked around his waist from behind, brushing lightly, quickly, against his erection, sending an electric shock sparking through his body. The hand came to rest against his hip, fingers dipping beneath the waistband. A shiver worked its way down his spine as he felt lips against the back of his neck. He couldn’t help it, moaning slightly. Effortlessly he spun, facing Samuel, but before he could get a good visual of the angel, their lips met in a hungry kiss, Samuel nibbling at his bottom lip. Flynn’s two halves tore at his insides.
The demon in him wanted to cause Samuel pain, unbearable pain, to spill the angel’s blood and make Samuel cry out for mercy. And then there was his tainted half, as he thought of it, the part of him that wanted Samuel, the doorway that let the angel in. That part of him wanted to march Samuel down the hallway, bend Samuel over the railing, and bring forth cries of an entirely different sort.
But this was not his game.
So he waited, savoring the taste of Samuel, only vaguely aware the peppermint stick had disappeared at some point. Nagging thoughts tried to ruin the moment by reminding him that Samuel had been gone for so very long. His angel lover had neglected him and he should have been demanding answers as to why. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t care what kept Samuel away. All that mattered was that moment, was the taste of Samuel on his lips, his tongue, the body pressed against his.
He thrust his hips at Samuel, whimpering.
The angel broke the kiss and pushed Flynn backward into the room.
Flynn blinked.
Suddenly things had changed. Somehow Samuel had trussed him up with the strand of lights. One end of the strand was wrapped around his wrists, the other tethered to a hook in the ceiling. He stood there with his hands above his head, still wearing the green hat and the garland. He was on fire and it had nothing to do with being a demon. Even the slightest breeze was enough to make him quiver. And looking at Samuel only made him long for the loss of his pants. Why couldn’t he have made things simpler and left them behind? He knew they weren’t going to last so why hadn’t
he shown up naked? The angel, his beloved winged man, wore a simple skin-tight pair of red boxer briefs and a Santa hat. Nothing else. It may not have been the same as the cards but it was more than enough for Flynn.
He licked his lips. “Have I been naughty, Santa?”
“So very, very naughty.”
“Are you going to punish me?”
Samuel smiled. “Perhaps.”
“Oh, please do,” Flynn purred, firelight dancing in his eyes. Why, he wondered not for the first time, did it have to be an angel that set him on fire? Of all the tasty souls he nibbled on and fully devoured, all the desperate and lustful people he crossed paths with, not a single one of them measured up to his angel. For a while he wondered if it might be because of the purity of soul Samuel possessed. But he wasn’t even sure angels had souls. Samuel was of the light and possessed a touch with an ice cold burn. Addictive, yes, but still not the reason he wanted Samuel every minute of every day. “Just thinking about touching you is enough to make me explode.”
“Shhhh,” Samuel held a finger lightly to his lips, eyes sparkling. “There will be time for that later. You played the game so now Santa is going to keep his word and give you your reward.”
“And what would that be?” he asked.
Samuel moved out of his sight, circling around to his back. He could feel Samuel’s cool presence so close, sucking in his bottom lip as Samuel’s hands touched his hips. Frustratingly slow, Samuel pushed down Flynn’s leather pants, slipping them free with little effort, and revealing he wore nothing underneath them. Again fingers brushed against his erection. So close to his back Flynn could feel Samuel’s arousal. It was almost more than he could stand. He had been left to wait for far too long. A cleverly played trick by the angel? A means of building up the anticipation? Samuel cupped his cheeks, squeezing, and leaning forward to nibble on Flynn’s ear.
A Sinful Little Gift Page 2
