Unbreak My Heart 03 - Unwrapped Hearts (2 page)

With one expert and practiced twist, Brett flipped JT to his belly. He kicked the rumpled sheets away before flattening himself on top of JT's mostly naked body. JT was solid and warm beneath him, stuttered laughter suddenly replaced with breathless need when Brett pressed the hardness behind his zipper against JT's backside.

"A kid at Christmas, hmm? I'll show you how big a kid I really am," Brett growled into the nape of JT's neck. He dipped his head, skimming butterfly kisses over JT's shoulders, then down his back, basking attention on each notch of his spine.

JT shifted and moaned, one hand reaching back to grab at Brett's hair. "Why didn't you wake me up before? You must have been up early?"

Brett dragged his bottom lip around the side of JT's neck, burying his fingers in soft curls. He urged JT to lift his head before latching onto that sensitive spot just under his jaw. "Nope, you're up late. It's already nine."

JT gaped and whimpered, his words more than a little breathy when he spoke. "You should have woke me. Oh fuck, I love it when you do that." He cocked his head farther to the side as Brett grazed teeth, then tongue, over the mark he'd sucked into JT's skin. "I could have helped with the chores."

"Did all my chores, thank you very much, and I even started the coffee," Brett said with a nip to JT's ear.

Truth be told, Brett had been happy to let JT sleep. The morning was crisp and clear when he and Whiz had trotted outside. The kind of morning that didn't freeze the end of your nose but cold enough to see your breath, and just right for making rare Texas snow hang around long enough to make the trees real pretty-like for Christmas Day.

"Besides," he said between kisses. "You were a little feisty last night. Thought you might need a little extra shut-eye."

JT's chuckle was almost swallowed up into his pillow. He turned his head then, reaching back to pet Brett's hair again. "Feisty sounds like something Millie would say."

"You prefer horny?"

"Only if you're going to do me with that hat on."

Brett nodded with a laugh. He rubbed slow circles with his tongue and lips down JT's backbone again, trailing fingers and mouth lower with each rotation. "I'd be much obliged."

JT writhed against him, head tipping back suddenly. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Brett asked. He stayed true to his task but listened carefully. "No."

"Sounded like something fell--where's Whiz?"

"Oh shit!"

Brett was off the bed in a flash, leaving the warmth of JT's body for something far more urgent. He flew down the stairs so fast he was lucky he didn't break his neck or anything else important. "Whiz!" he hollered but to no avail. The damage was already done.

"Dammit, Whizzy!" he growled as JT stepped up beside him. He was still in his underwear, something Brett would surely have taken advantage of had the situation been a little different.

The family room was in total disarray, the carefully chosen and decorated Christmas tree leaning against one of the leather sofas, needles haphazardly scattered on the floor. The country Christmas star JT and Brett had picked out not a week before was in ruins, only three of the five arms having made it through the ordeal. Silver and blue garlands were torn apart like some tinsel machine had vomited all over the room and the tree skirt was all bunched up to one side, hiding whatever mess was underneath.

And sitting pretty right in the middle of the disaster zone, one silver garland draped over his back, was a panting, tongue-flopping, tail wagging,
very pleased with himself,
Whiz. A one man...one
dog
wrecking ball.

Brett lunged forward, pulling Whiz into his arms, receiving a thorough face-washing for his troubles before he could get a good hold. "Gee, Whiz. Just what the hell you got against this tree, huh?"

JT touched Brett's shoulder when he stood up again. He ran his fingers over his back and down his ass before moving.

"Did you check the tree when you got up?" he asked as he gathered up some of the debris.

"Of course I checked the goddamn tree," Brett spat, his jaw so tight he could barely speak. He shuffled Whiz to his hip, grabbing the Santa hat and slamming it to the ground--as hard as anyone could actually slam down a fluffy piece of fabric. "He was in our room all night, remember?"

"Whoa back, cowboy," JT said.

"You're not even saying that right. Jesus."

JT dropped the destroyed decorations into a pile before rising to wrap around Brett's back, and well, Brett just let him. The kid's chin stabbed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, and he rubbed it against Brett to get his attention.

"It's not the end of the world, and, unfortunately, not the first time this week."

Brett popped his bottom lip out in a pout, swinging his head to the left so Whiz couldn't give him another face-wash. "I know that," he grumbled. "He didn't touch the damn tree last year so what the hell is up with this one? Got some critters...or varmints living in it?"

He tried to hold back his chuckle when JT whispered, "See, I told you you used that word." But he failed, winding his free hand behind JT's neck and tangling his fingers in his curls.

"I'm afraid to look at what all he done. You want the job, kid?"

With a tender kiss to the side of Brett's neck, JT eased away, coming to stand in front of him and his squirming cargo. He saluted with an amused stare, the fact he was still only in his briefs making the situation just that much more ridiculous.

"At ease, soldier, but save all that sexy obedience for later. Santa might need to give a few orders of his own." Brett leaned in to steal a tender kiss over JT's wet bottom lip. "I'm gonna give this teenage mutant a time-out."

"You know that doesn't work right?"

"Hush, city boy. Don't let Mama hear you dissing her instructions."

His heart was lighter when he walked away, twisting once to look over his shoulder at JT's tight ass in his very tight undies. He hummed a little with renewed spirit as he softly pinched Whiz's jaw together.

"Why'd you go and do that, Whizzy? I hate to punish you on Christmas. You've disappointed your daddies."

"I heard that!" JT called with a rolling chuckle. "Daddies."

"You never mind," Brett said. He toed open the door to Whiz's big-ass crate, then crouched down to send the struggling pup inside. It was no easy task, since the dog had become all long uncoordinated limbs and barely any body with his recent growth spurt. "It won't be long, I promise. You gotta learn the rules, little man."

"Pretty sure your mom got us a new tablecloth with flowers on it again."

"Pretty sure?" Brett hollered back. He snuck a peek to make sure JT wasn't heading his way before shoving his hand in the bag of dried lamb lungs and quickly stuffing one in Whiz's kennel. "Shhh," he said when Whiz went at the treat full gusto.

"I'm positive she did since the wrapping paper is destroyed."

Brett shook his head in disappointment at Whiz, who just ignored him for his chewy snack.

"Oh, and if you keep giving him treats when he's being punished, we're never going to get him to listen."

"Dang it," Brett growled. He eyed Whiz one last time before standing and hitching up his jeans. He'd forgotten his belt in his haste to not wake up JT, and, like he always said, he couldn't understand how those young kids wore their pants barely hanging off their asses. Drove him fucking nuts.

"I don't mind them when they're hanging low. All you have to do is take them off to solve the problem," JT said when Brett turned the corner.

"What are you now? Fortune teller? Or one of those shady psychics? Guess I prefer that to the bad accent."

"Screw you, cowboy," JT said. Of course, he nabbed Brett around the middle while he did it. "We could have a no-pants Christmas."

Brett snorted. He twisted so they were face-to-face, everything pressed to everything actually, and, Mother of God, JT's briefs were so damn thin. "Bet Mama and Ray would love that."

"I thought we had a standard agreement to not talk about your mother or Ray when we were horny?"

JT kissed him then, slow, deep, his hands sliding into the back of Brett's pants. So Brett went with it. He slapped JT on the ass, then wiggled his own hands down JT's briefs to feel the firm globes of his backside.

"Want me to put the Santa hat back on? You could be my sexy elf."

"I think you're more elf-sized."

Brett squeezed JT's ass hard. "You did not just go there."

"Whip it out, Santa. I wanna sit in your lap and tell you what a good boy I am."

It was the last straw. Brett pushed away from JT, leaning forward, hands on his knees as silent laughter painfully shook his body. "I just..." He snorted so hard it hurt. "Just can't do this shit."

JT was laughing, too. He rolled his eyes at Brett, his face lit up like the brightest star in the sky. "Yeah, you suck at role-playing and it was your idea in the first place."

"I know, but I certainly did not tell you to decimate Saint Nick and his elves."

A howl vibrated from the kitchen. They turned to each other again, shaking their heads. Brett was glad for the interruption because role-playing was just...well, not his thing. JT winked at him while Brett swiped at the tears on his cheeks and the ones still leaking from his eyes.

"Guess he finished his treat," JT said with a smirk. "I'm gonna get some pants on since Santa doesn't seem up to the challenge right now."

"Brat," Brett said. He took another opportunity to slap JT's butt, which he knew the kid damn well liked. "Come back down then, yeah? I'm gonna clean up a bit, then we can have breakfast, and I have something to give you, Darlin'."

"Didn't we say no gifts?" JT called out behind him. "Putting the money toward a trip or something, right?"

"Yes and no," Brett hollered back to the stomp of heavy footsteps on the stairs. He waited for JT to reach the top, then began scooping up garland and wrapping paper bits and pieces. "Looks like Ray got me that old western DVD I wanted and his gift for you is half-opened, too. And hey! We said one small gift was fine, but don't be worried if you didn't get me anything. I've got all I need anyhow."

And all he really needed was back before Brett had everything cleaned up. JT sidled up to him in fresh jeans and the ugliest Christmas sweater he'd ever seen. It was cartoony but barely distinguishable as a reindeer except for the big red pompom sewed on for Rudolph's nose.

"You're not actually going to wear that, are you?"

"Of course. It was my first gift from your mom. She'll be expecting it."

Brett flicked at the bobbly nose. "No she won't...will she?"

JT nodded with determination. "She's going to ask where yours is, too."

"I am not walking around my own house in a bright green sweater with a threatening-looking snowman on it."

"He's not threatening. I think he's just missing a stitch to turn his mouth into a smile. You know you have to do it. And it'll make opening gifts more fun "

"You're so full of crap your eyes are darker today. Not happening, kid."

"Okay," JT said, shaking his head as he moved to grab the tree. He huffed in frustration as he tried to stand it up again. "If you want to disappoint your mama, that's your decision."

Brett squinted and focused his best scowl at JT. "You've turned into a real brat, Mr. Campbell."

"That's why you love me, Mr. Taylor. I keep your life interesting."

"Starting to think you're on Mama's payroll. I'll wear the damn sweater, but I expect a big cup of coffee waiting for me once I get that itchy thing on. Oh, and one of those pastry things Mama brought yesterday."

"Those are for tonight."

"Do you want me looking as ridiculous as you or not?"

* * * *

And that's how Brett came to be sitting on the floor in the second ugliest Christmas sweater in the world, with a Santa hat perched on his head again. The tree had been righted, definitely worse for wear, but the lights still twinkled all pretty-like, and for Brett that was the most important part.

JT sat across from him, long legs stretched and spread straight out with Brett's backside nestled between his ankles. Brett's bare feet were hitched underneath JT's legs, his toes digging into the flesh of JT's thighs. It was comfortable enough to eat and drink, and close enough that Brett could feel JT's body heat like it was his own. Whiz had also joined the party, having whined and howled his way into the family room, still encased in his crate. He seemed happier though, content to snack on another one of his treats.

"So," JT said between bites of buttery pastry. "Do you want to go first?"

"Naw. I deserve first spot for all your nagging about the sweater--"

"My what?"

Brett just grinned at him. "Hope you didn't get me something edible or you're going to have to wrap a bow around Whiz's belly."

JT laughed and it was bright and strong and gorgeous, just like him. "I know better than that. You go ahead and reach under the couch."

"This couch?" Brett asked with an accompanying tip of his head.

When JT chewed his bottom lip and nodded, Brett leaned back far enough to grab whatever was under there. He could tell it was about two inches thick before he pulled it out, not real heavy but awkwardly shaped to maneuver with one hand. As he finally got a good hold on it, Brett noticed it was wrapped up nicely, in shiny red Christmas paper with a matching bow.

"Looks like Santa had some gift-wrapping lessons," he teased.

JT obviously got the joke since he blushed just a little and averted his gaze. Brett had prior knowledge of JT's gift-wrapping skills and either he had greatly approved or...

"It was hard to wrap," JT admitted." So maybe Mrs. Clause or Santa's mama or whatever--I think I'm confused now." He chuckled, taking a big slurp of his coffee instead of continuing.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, okay. Millie wrapped it."

Brett grinned at him, sliding his hands over the rounded rectangle package. It had to be three and a half feet in length by just over a foot in width and the shape gave no clue as to what it was.

"Feels like something unfinished. You looking to have me build something for you, Darlin'?"