Christmas Delights 3 (57 page)

Chapter Seven

Dain stretched his arms over his head. Reaching out, Jake’s
side of the bed was cold. It was after eight a.m. and he could hear his man
moving around the apartment. Dain had strict orders not to leave the bedroom
until eight thirty. What Jake was up to he, hadn’t a clue, but just knowing he
was there was comforting.

More nights than not Jake spent at Dain’s apartment. The
past few weeks, Dain had lived on a roller coaster of emotions, one moment
filled with elation and hope and the next crashing into the abyss of
depression. The highs were filled with Jake and laughter and hot sex (they
hadn’t ventured into anal sex yet, but soon). They’d spent time with Mandy and
Frank and the boys, who now yelled for Uncle Dain. He’d met Jake’s parents,
fallen in love with his mother, and found his father loving and supportive of
his gay son. They’d even started going to church as a family.

 It was the lows filled with misery and self-flagellation,
and pushing Jake away, that kept knocking Dain temporarily off-course. When
Dain pushed Jake away, Jake pushed right back, always returning to accept
Dain’s tear-filled apology with a smile and “
I’ve got your back
.” No one
had ever had Dain’s back, and how he’d survived so long without that support
was beyond him.

The silence from Dain’s father was both a blessing and
heartbreak. That little boy in Dain still wished for the day his father would
apologize for the abuse and accept Dain for who he was. Dain’s counselor, Sam,
continually reminded Dain that yearning for the love and approval of an abusive
parent was normal. At first, Dain had resisted professional help, searching for
relief at the bottom of that vodka bottle. That had all changed with one
heart-felt plea from Jake. “I hate that you went through it alone and that I
can’t fix it for you. But there are people who can help. You’ll never have to
do it alone again. ” Right then, he’d known he loved Jake but fear had stopped
him from voicing the words.

The alarm went off at eight thirty on the dot. Dain rose and
pulled on the silky red pajama pants Jake had left with instructions to come
into the living room wearing only those pants. Out of habit, Dain pulled on his
cap.

Dain’s heart raced with excitement as he left the bedroom. He
stopped short of entering the living room, blinking from the brightness.
Awe-struck he tried to take in everything at once. Twinkling lights
crisscrossed every inch of space with swags of glittery garland draped over the
doorway and windows. In the center of the room was a large Christmas tree
covered in more twinkling lights and colorful ornaments and topped with...no,
it couldn’t be...Perched atop that tree was his mother’s antique angel, the
angel that had topped every tree until she’d died. Moving closer, Dain
recognized noodle wreaths and pipe cleaner candy canes and paper stars he’d
made as a kid. He was crying again. Shit, he did a lot of that lately. Beneath
the tree of his dreams was the man of his dreams, chest covered with that pelt
of black hair and wearing the same red silk pajama pants and smiling like that
cat that ate the canary.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

“Jake, honey, what...?”

Jake rose in all of his magnificent glory, backlit by that
tree. He wrapped his arms around Dain’s waist. “This is your Christmas, Dain.
The Christmas you deserve, even if it’s a few weeks late.”

Dain choked back a sob. “Ten years late actually but damn,
it was all worth the wait. How did you get my mother’s angel and the
ornaments?”

He smirked. “Well, you know, sheriff and all. That and my
mom paid a visit to your dad.”

“How could you let her do that?” His father could eat her
alive.

“I didn’t say she went alone. Let’s just say, as a group,
the Ramos’ can be very persuasive. We also got some other things you might
like.” From beneath the tree, Jake produced a framed picture of a young Dain on
his mother’s lap. Seeing the loving expression on his mother’s face, Dain
touched her with loving reverence as tears wet his cheeks and his chest.

“Was this all designed to see how many tears you could get
out of me?”

Jake shook his head. “No. Just that you mean everything to
me. I did this to make you happy.”

Dain placed the frame on the table. Taking Jake’s hands, he
entwined their fingers together. “You make me very happy. You haven’t given up
on me. That’s the greatest gift ever, my miracle...I love you.”

Jake bit his bottom lip, struggling with the overwhelming
emotions. “I love you too, Dain.”

Sharing a sweet and gentle kiss, Jake then flashed a heated
gaze. “I’m ready for my present,” he whispered in that rumbly voice. Dain
opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t known to get one, but Jake added, “I
want you to fuck me right here under this tree. If you look in your stocking,”
he said, pointing to two red stockings under the tree, “I think Santa left
everything you need.”

That cocky, confident grin ignited a fire in Dain’s belly
and his cock filled. He attacked Jake’s perfect lips, biting and nibbling and
sucking and running his hands through those curls. Jake hands were all over
Dain and the air filled with their panting and moans. Dain pulled away and
stepped back, never breaking his gaze with Jake. He pushed his bottoms off his
hips and pulled off the knit cap, done hiding. Hooking his fingers into Jake’s
bottoms, he pushed them down and they pooled at his feet. Jake’s rigid shaft
rose from a patch of black curly hair. His mocha skin shone with the lights of
the tree. His sheriff was stunning.

Dain ran his fingers through the fur on his chest and pinched
a nipple. Jake groaned and his head fell back. Dain flicked a tongue over the
other nipple then bit hard on the nub. Jake’s hands grasped Dain’s shoulders.

“Fuck, Dain. Harder.”

Dain moved to the other nipple and clamped it between his
teeth and Jake cried out. Dain ran his palm over the silky hair on Jake’s
stomach, sliding down to his balls. With a savage twist, he pulled them hard
and Jake yelped.

“Again,” he gasped. 

Dain yanked harder and pre-cum spurted from Jake’s massive
head. Dain needed to taste. Kneeling, he swiped his tongue over the head,
gathering Jake’s essence, drinking him down. Jake ran his fingers over Dain’s
scalp, babbling and pleading. “Suck it. Please.”

Another twist of Jake’s balls and he was sobbing and bucking
his hips toward Dain’s mouth. Dain smirked at the loss of control he could
elicit in his sheriff. He opened his mouth and slowly slid the throbbing shaft
inside while holding Jake’s hips. Dain sucked hard and pulled on Jake’s balls
again. Another moan. Dain loved it. Setting a steady rhythm, Dain pushed Jake’s
prick farther into his throat. Reaching down, he felt for the lube in the
stocking, popped the cap, and coated his fingers. Reaching behind Jake’s ball
sac, he massaged his entrance. Jake’s groans and whimpers filled the air. When
Dain pushed in two fingers without prep, Jake bucked his cock down Dain’s
throat.

Pushing at Dain’s head, he pleaded, “S-stop. Don’t want to
come. Fuck me now.”

At Jake’s breathy pleas Dain squeezed the base of his dick
to stop his orgasm.

“On your back, honey,” Dain said, pulling out a condom and
tearing into the foil. He rolled it on and lubed his sensitive prick.

Time stopped for Dain as he caught sight of his sheriff on
his back beneath the tree, stroking his massive shaft, legs spread wide for
Dain. Dain fought the tremble in his lip and crawled over Jake, pulling his
massive thighs up over his arms. Lining up with Jake’s entrance Dain asked,
“Fast or slow?”

With a fire in his eyes, Jake growled, “Fast.”

In one motion, Dain buried himself deep in Jake.

“Fuck yes!” Jake ground out through gritted teeth, grasping
Dain’s arms.

Dain moaned and closed his eyes against the surge of
pleasure from the hot, tight hole.  Setting a pounding pace, Dain pulled his
arms out from under Jake’s legs and placed both of his hands on the sides of
Jake’s neck, his thumbs caressing his lover’s cheeks. Reaching up, Jake
mirrored Dain’s action, and their eyes locked in a gaze of love and pleasure
and forever.

Jake moaned when Dain changed the angle of his thrusts.
“Yes! Love me, Sweetheart.”

“Always,” Dain said, chest heaving and heart swelling. His
balls pulled up with that familiar tingle.

Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around Jake’s cock and
Jake arched into the touch, gasping. Pure bliss covered his face as ropes of
white creamy spunk splattered across his mocha skin.

Dain snapped his hips and grasped Jake’s shoulders to pull
him down harder onto his dick. Jake lifted his head, searching out Dain’s lips.
The pain in his balls grew, and his vision whited out, and he knew this was
going to be huge. Dain fought to fall over the edge but his mind wanted this
moment to last forever. As if sensing his urgency, Jake pulled away from the
kiss. “Come on, Dain, you beautiful fucking man, come for me,” he said then
squeezed hard on Dain’s nipples. 

The flash of pleasure shot through every cell of Dain’s body
and his chest locked up and his eyes went wide as his balls pumped cum into the
condom. Jake wrapped his arms tight around Dain as he shuddered and twitched,
drawing in air filled with the sweet scent of the man he loved. The man who’d
saved him. His miracle.

 “That’s it, Sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Jake murmured,
rubbing soothing circles over Dain’s back.

 And Jake did have Dain, now and forever.

THE END

JC Wallace

My alter ego is a
contemporary/paranormal writer of all thing men. After years of chasing other
careers, nothing makes me happier than giving two (or three) hot men their
happily ever after.

Contact info
:

Email
[email protected]

Website
www.jcwallacebooks.com

Rob clapped his hands over his head and whistled loudly. His
crew provided him with their strict attention. He had trained them well.

“Listen, you drunken sponges, this is the last round on me,
boys. Drink up.” Rob laughed and waved at a few pleading faces. “Yeah, yeah,
Carlos, Harry, everyone, you can order more than one drink. Just don’t break my
wallet. Go ahead, you guys deserve the reward. You did a great job clearing
those downed trees after that damned nasty storm.” The September storm hadn’t
reached hurricane force, but it still had been brutal enough to raise hell with
his customer’s yards. Rob welcomed the overtime, an independent landscaper made
money when he could.

His crew abandoned their dart game and pool hustling to
swarm toward the retro bar, all except Manny. His friend had acted reserved all
evening. He had sat and drank like New Jersey was planning to outlaw vodka.

Rob glanced at his watch. “Fuck, I need to head home. I told
Tony I would be late, but nine is stretching it. I’m gonna catch hell. I can’t
call cause my cell died.” Worse yet, Rob didn’t have Tony’s cell number
memorized. Too bad they had ditched the land line. Rob knew the Latin name for
thousands of plants, but numbers—fuck, they refused to stay in his thick Irish
skull.

Manny sighed with drunken bliss. “Dude, if I had someone
like Tony at home, I’d never want to leave.”

Why did his second-in-command act moony over Tony? Instead
of falling into jealous dick mode, Rob nodded. “I know, right? I hate leaving
him in the morning. It breaks my heart.” Wow, could he sound sappier? Too bad,
it was the truth.

“You’re a tease, boss. Yeah, a tease who goes home to one
beautiful guy. I’d give anything to see what you two look like together in
action.”

Rob paused in finishing his last beer. Anger tightened his
throat like a noose. “Are you fuckin’ telling me you like, well, imagine us
together?”

Manny twitched with what looked like guilty agreement. He
stared into his vodka gimlet. “Permission to talk freely, boss?

“What?”

“Yes.”

Rob swore his rapid blinking might cause an eyelid cramp.
Manny had the balls to confess his attraction? Huh.

“There’s more, boss.”

Despite his annoyance, Rob nodded at Manny. What else could
he possibly say to Rob? “Go on and make it quick before the boys return.”

Manny gestured with his glass. “Remember when you asked about
Shelia and I ball-parked a price?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Tony’s in love with your fuckin’
Mustang convertible. I can’t afford her right now. I’m house poor. I never
realized just how much money I would need to sink into rewiring, refitting,
fuck, re-everythinging the old termite palace. The house looks fuckin’ great
but I’m fuckin’ broke.”

“I came up with an idea. Listen, dude. Please don’t take my
head off.”

Rob listened to Manny’s quiet proposal. His friend owned
some fuckin’ nerve. Rob almost picked up an empty ale bottle and slammed it
against Manny’s square, bald head.
Doooing
. Right in the middle, smack
on the existing dent caused after Manny had bashed into a tree branch. He had
learned never try to steer a brakeless gang mower.

After long seconds of debate, Rob decided why not?