Page 13 of Must Love Christmas

Simon’s eyes lit up. He looked at his own wine glass, then emptied it in one gulp. Garen took it from him and set both glasses on the coffee table.

He closed his eyes and sighed as Simon’s hands moved through his hair to the back of his neck. It had been forever since anyone had touched him with such careful fascination.

Garen tilted up his chin, and in a moment Simon’s warm lips pressed against his throat, bringing forth a whimper of need. He could feel his pulse pound against Simon’s mouth, the throb echoing back into his artery.

Garen’s hands found the open collar of Simon’s dress shirt. He slid his thumbs over the V-neck of the cotton vest top beneath, then tucked them inside, craving the warmth of bare skin. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Simon moved his mouth to Garen’s jaw. “Me, too.”

“This is much better than living together.”

“Mm-hm.”

Garen moaned as Simon’s teeth grazed his earlobe. “Not that you wouldn’t have made an excellent flatmate.”

“Sure.” His breath against Garen’s ear made him shiver again.

“Just wanted to state that for the record.” Feeling bold, he undid another of Simon’s shirt buttons and slid his hands up over his shoulders. “You seem a very co-habitable person.”

“Garen.” Simon pulled back and looked at him. “Do you ever, ever stop talking?”

“Oh, sure.” He brushed his lips over Simon’s, offering a hint of tongue. “Once I’ve got better things to do with my mouth.”

* * *

To Simon’s delight,Garen did not stop talking.

“I don’t think you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” he told Simon as they sank together onto his bed. “If that’s okay.”

“Sound, lad. Aha, ticklish,” Simon added as Garen’s hands slid under his vest T-shirt, pushing it up over his ribs. He sat up and stripped it off, relishing Garen’s admiring gaze.

They’d discarded his dress shirt and Garen’s jumper during their stumbling journey down the hallway, a journey interrupted by emergency stops against various walls to steal more reckless, starving kisses.

Here in his bed, Garen sat before him and raked his fingers down Simon’s bare chest, skipping his ticklish abs to lightly grasp his waistband. “Is it okay if we take each other’s trousers off?”

Simon nodded and reached for Garen’s belt buckle. “I’d like that.”

He also liked that Garen asked permission for each thing he did—partly because it was a massive turn-on to hear exactly what he wanted, but also because Simon knew he might eventually have to say no.

He tugged off Garen’s jeans and tossed them onto the floor. Garen did the same with his khakis, and Simon gave but a passing thought to whether they’d be wrinkled in the morning.

Then Garen pulled back the duvet so they could crawl under it, still in their socks and underwear. “That’s better.” He settled his head on his pillow and reached for Simon. “It’s a cold night.”

“Not for long,” he said as he was drawn into Garen’s arms to continue their now-nearly-naked snogging. Simon’s head was spinning with the speed of it all, and he wondered whether he’d have the presence of mind to tap the brakes.

Their hands roamed lower, and soon made each other one hundred percent naked. They writhed together, straining for contact and friction, their mouths still melded.

Then Garen raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at him. A chunk of his hair had flipped over its natural part and was hanging in front of his face, making him look slightly mad and really fucking hot.

“Is it okay if I taste you, Simon?”

Simon’s cock jerked in response. It wanted Garen’s mouth more than anything in the world. But it wasn’t in charge, not even at a moment like this.

“Let’s just use our hands tonight,” Simon said. “I’m not ready for more yet.”

Garen didn’t even blink. “Hands are great.” He brought Simon’s to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “See, this is why I ask. If I don’t ask, I might assume wrong.”

“It’s good to take things one step at a time.”

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