Page 25 of The Christmas Keeper

He pressed a kiss to my temple.

I nodded and burrowed my nose into his shoulder. If Kenan asked for the moon, I’d scale the tallest ladder to try to fetch it out of the heavens for him.

***

Okay, so in our defense, no one told us how freaking hard it was to make a gingerbread house from scratch.

It had seemed easy. I mean, we watched a video on YouTube a few nights ago in bed. Sure, it involved baking and icing. That had seemed simple.

It was not. Neither the baking nor the icing. When we were ready to assemble our house, a creation of an epic endeavor called Graceland—yes, that Graceland—we were already knee-deep in a biblical mess that would require a true holiday miracle to ever clean up.

“Okay, so we have to cut the gingerbread into house parts.” Kenan looked up from the tins of slightly overbaked gingerbread sitting all over the house, cooling. “Now looking at the front porch of Graceland, we’re going to need four pillars. How do you make round pillars out of flat gingerbread?” I shrugged. He frowned. “You have to stop eating the walls, sugar.”

“Mm, I love it when you call me sugar,” I admitted around a mouthful of gingerbread.

“Well, you’re as sweet as this icing,” he replied with a little wink that went right to my balls. Swallowing my ill-gotten gains, I wiggled up behind him, flattened my gummy hands over his apron, and pushed my rapidly swelling cock into his ass. “Brann, this is not the time or place for sexual shenanigans. This reproduction of the King’s home will never be ready if we get off track.” I tasted his earlobe in reply. “Damn it,” he huffed as if he were put off, but his backside slowly started to move against my dick. I’d learned that he had a real love of having his earlobes sucked. The harder and sloppier the better. I ran my tongue over the small hoops.

“You’re one sexy baker,” I whispered into his ear, my sight moving downward to watch what he was doing with his hands.He shuddered, his grip on the icing bag tightening. White frosting oozed out of the tip and over his fingers. “Oh hell, now that is suggestive.”

I spun him to face me, grabbed his wrist, and lifted his icing-coated fingers to my mouth. He fed me his digits, one at a time. His gaze was hot and locked on my mouth as I tongued and lapped off all the sugary goodness.

“If I coat my dick with this here icing, will you clean that off?” he asked. As if there was any other reply other than ‘Hell yes!’ would exit my mouth, I went to my knees so fast it hurt. But the pain was nothing. I had his apron pushed aside and his prick freed from his jeans before you could say run, run as fast as you can. I enjoyed the sight of his leaking cock for a mere second before lapping up the slick coating from the fat head. “Bring on that sugar,” I said, my sight darting up to meet his. Those dark eyes glowed as he brought the icing bag around, then slowly, carefully, drew a shaky line of pure white frosting from where my fist rested around the base all the way to the tip. “Mm, I love sweets.”

“Lick it off slowly,” he growled so low it resonated in my gut. Determined to give him what he asked for, I did just that, running my tongue down and then up, smearing the sweetness all over his shaft then sucking it off. I pulled off. He added more. Some dribbled to the floor from the tip of the bag. We’d get that later. Right now, I needed more Kenan dick. I sucked hard now, moaning as ivory frosting coated my lips and chin. He began moving his hips, adding more icing every time I rested his cockhead on my lower lip. His fingers were covered when they carded into my hair and I couldn’t have cared less. I could feel the tension in his thigh as I rested one hand on his leg, so I eased back, slowed down things, and used a huge dollop he placed on my tongue on his balls, making sure I sucked each orb into mymouth. Icing was everywhere. He rocked back to yank his balls free, gasping when one popped out.

“I’m too close,” he panted, using his fisted hand in my hair to lead me to my feet. I kissed him hungrily when I was standing. “I want you to fuck me.”

Oh. Oh shit, that was unexpected. Hot as hell, but unexpected.

“Okay, yeah, I’m so down for that. Uhm…” He looked confused at my stalling. “It’s just we never had that awkward talk. You know? About status and all that.”

“Oh, that awkward talk. I’ve kind of been working on myself, which required some small amount of celibacy.”

“Small amount?”

“Total. The counselors in rehab strongly suggested that we not dive into a relationship or even casual sex as that can lead from one kind of addictive behavior, ketamine in my case, to using sex as a substitute for insert your drug of choice here.”

“Wow, impressive.” He shrugged it off, but I knew how hard it was to go without. “I’m not on anything, but I’ve not been with anyone since He Who Ruined Christmas. I’m cool with wearing a condom until we can both get tested.”

“Sounds good to me. Now can we fuck?”

“Yes, shit yes,” I huffed, turned him around, and then placed a hand on his back. He laid over the pans of gingerbread, the bowls of candy we’d bought for decoration tipped, spilling tiny red cinnamon balls over the counter and floor.

We’d get them later too.

I tugged his pants free, easing one socked foot and then the other out of his jeans before whipping them to some far corner. Hell, maybe they landed in the sink.

We’d get them later as well.

I bent down to kiss his spine as my hands fondled his tight ass cheeks, spreading them wide as I slid my leg between his to widen his stance.

“Lick this off my ass,” he said, reaching back to offer me the icing bag. I jumped on that brilliant idea, easing back to draw a fat line from between his shoulder blades down to the crack of his ass. I threw the bag onto the counter. The bowl of eggs lost an egg. It hit the floor with a sad little wet smack.

Yep, we’d get that later too.

I went to licking, following the line of his spine, my tongue rolling over the bumps of his vertebrae until I was on one knee, my nose burrowing between his cheeks. I tongued my way to his hole, placed my hands on each buttock, and spread him wide. Kenan made a low, guttural sound that shot me like a rocket to the brink of orgasm. My cock was throbbing in my jeans, but it was going to have to give me time to get Kenan ready. I toyed with the furled opening with the tip of my tongue and then used my icing-covered fingers to rub frosting over his hole. He cried out when I buried my tongue in him. Dishes rattled, pots clattered to the floor, and something that sounded like the tin filled with crushed candy canes fell off the counter with a crash.

Later. We’d get that later as well.

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