Page 45 of Christmas Spirit
Roland looked up into Georgie’s flushed face. His small grin was part brash, part shy, and all Georgie.
“You certainly unwrapped me,” Roland said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Georgie had done that, in more ways than one.
“Then let me tidy up.”
Georgie wriggled down, and slowly, taking his time, taking care, not missing a single drop, he trailed his tongue across Roland’s skin, lapping up his release.
“Best breakfast, too,” Georgie said, inching up Roland’s body.
“Better than bacon and eggs or toast and marmalade?” Roland quirked a brow.
Georgie smiled and tilted his head. “You decide.”
Roland opened his mouth to Georgie, tasting their mingled release, revelling in the juicy, salty tang of them both.
“More than good enough to go on the breakfast menu at the Manor.”
Georgie laughed, clear, bright and carefree, as he flopped back into the pillows at Roland’s side.
“I’m sure if you gave it a fancy French name nobody would know.”
“I—” Roland said, but he got no further as his stomach rumbled. “Maybe bacon and eggs aren’t such a bad idea,” he said, laughing. “Got to keep up with our protein intake, after all.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Are you sure about this?” Georgie asked, as Roland sizzled bacon in a large frying pan.
“Of course I am. You read the note, saying we were to help ourselves. He’s left everything for breakfast. We’re the only ones here, Georgie. If I don’t cook for us, nobody else will.”
That was true. The note had been propped up on the mantle shelf next to the clock, when they’d returned from the shower they’d spent far too long in, and where they’d replenished their protein stores. Georgie was sure it hadn’t been there the night before, or even earlier, or as sure as he was about anything, from the moment they had walked into the strange, nameless hotel.
It should creep me out…But it didn’t. He was happy, relaxed, content, and he wasn’t going to do anything to rock that boat.
He buttered toast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit and yogurt. Bread. Croissants. It had all been left for them, as Roland said.
Don’t question. Just accept.
Roland piled the food onto plates, and Georgie’s stomach rumbled.
“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “Not used to so much exercise first thing in the morning.”
“No. Erm, nor me.”
Was Roland blushing? Yes, he was.I did that to him.Me. Warmth flooded through Georgie, warmer than the bacon and eggs, or the croissants fresh from the oven.
They took everything back to the lounge and set themselves up on the floor, the food spread out between them.
“Where do you think he’s gone? Nicholas, I mean,” Georgie said, sucking melting butter from his fingers.
“I don’t know.”
Georgie peered at Roland.
“You’re looking kind of — sneaky. Did he tell you?”
“No.”
Georgie narrowed his eyes. Something had passed between the two men, the night before. Some kind of understanding known only to them.
