Paul had set up two TV trays in front of the television, and they snuggled together before their steaming plates. Paul nodded to the TV. “What are we watching?”
“
The Shop Around the Corner.
Because a little birdie told me you love romantic Christmas movies.” And because this was one Kyle didn’t just tolerate, he loved. Kyle cut some tenderloin and speared a bit of vegetable with it too. On impulse, he turned to Paul. “Open.”
Paul ate obediently, and it pleased Kyle to hear his moan of pleasure as he chewed. “Oh my God. That’s amazing.”
Kyle beamed. “Thanks.”
Paul hadn’t seen the movie, which thrilled Kyle even more. Kyle’s mom had a weakness for Jimmy Stewart, and it turned out so did Paul.
“This is what the movie
You’ve Got Mail
is based on,” Kyle told him as they pushed their plates aside and settled into the film. “I like this version so much better.”
“It’s so cozy.” Paul rested his head on Kyle’s shoulder when Kyle put an arm around him. “I love cozy movies. Where everything is safe and okay. This ends happy, right? Everybody gets together and everything is okay?”
Kyle stared at the top of Paul’s head, his boyfriend’s words ringing in his head. “Yes. It has a cozy, perfect happily ever after.”
With a contented sigh, Paul sipped his wine and gave his full attention to the movie.
Kyle, however, couldn’t stop watching Paul.
Everything safe and okay.
That’s what Corrina had meant about the Christmas movies, cheesy as they were. Because every last one of them had the tidiest, most perfect of endings, tied up in a neat, saccharine bow. Family, romance and happily ever after.
Oh, Paul.
Kyle kissed his hair, shut his eyes and took in a deep breath of his lover.
When the movie finished, Paul was pleased, and soft and gooey in the center. Kyle kissed his neck, massaged his thigh. Felt his cock grow hard through his jeans.
Slow down,
he reminded himself. “I should see to the kitchen.”
Paul’s shoulders fell in disappointment, but he nodded. “I’ll help you.”
Kyle had intended the cleanup to be a way to dampen his ardor, but with Paul working beside him, close enough to send Kyle whiffs of aftershave, giving a view of his ass as he bent over, kitchen duty was more foreplay than cool-down. At first Kyle tried to draw the chore out, thinking if nothing else time would be on his side, but all it did was outline how miserably he was failing to distract himself from how much he wanted Paul.
“Looks like it’s snowing again.” Paul leaned on the counter, gripping the edge and drawing attention to his groin.
Kyle tried not to notice, and failed. “I should probably head back, then.” He’d meant it to be his noble nod to respecting Paul’s need to wade into their relationship, but the comment came out sounding like someone acknowledging they had to go in for a root canal.
Paul seemed disappointed. “Oh—I saw you brought a duffel. I thought you’d stay over.”
Originally, this had been Kyle’s plan. “I don’t want to impose.” He mentally eye-rolled himself at his lame defense and sighed. “Okay—it’s not only that. I don’t want to rush things. I remember what happened the first time I took you to bed.”
Paul hunched forward in embarrassment. “That’s not going to happen. I swear.”
Kyle ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a bit to loosen the right words from his cranium. “It’s not a punishment. It’s insurance. I’m not kidding, Paul. I want this.” He gestured at the kitchen, the living room. “I
liked
this, hanging out with you. Being with you. If having sex too fast is going to screw that up—” He cut himself off, abruptly out of words, though emotions blew up from updrafts inside him, parachutes of confession he didn’t dare spill just yet.
I don’t want you because you’re convenient or because it’s been fun crushing on you. I want you because every time we get together, it feels more right, more certain. Except it also means it’s going to hurt more if you decide you don’t feel the same way or can’t do this right now.
Paul pushed off the counter and took Kyle’s shoulders in a gentle grip. “It wasn’t sex that did it. It was just me being self-conscious.” He grimaced, averting his gaze. “I overreacted because it felt good. Which makes no sense, I know, but it’s like the better things are sometimes the harder it is for me. I worry a lot about what other people think. I shouldn’t, but I do. I’ve gotten used to bad hookups and failed relationships, and I think the idea you might be exactly who I’ve been looking for scared me.” He blushed and pulled away. “Sorry, that sounded really dumb out loud.”
Kyle chased him, drawing him closer. “No. It didn’t sound dumb at all.”
The kiss started out as slow, lazy nips. But the brush of Paul’s mustache and beard sent tingling thrills across Kyle’s skin, and he framed Paul’s face with his hands, running his thumbs along the rough edge of his hairline. He opened his mouth over Paul’s. He flicked his tongue over the edge of Paul’s teeth, touched their tongues together.
He meant to be seductive and sweet, and God knows he tried. Skimming fingers over Paul’s body, drawing their bodies together, Kyle did his best to keep in the spirit of the evening. To be gentle, sentimental. To make love, not fuck.
But Paul’s groans, little moans in the back of his throat, burly rumbles ending in whimpers as Kyle teased his nipples—they roused fires Kyle couldn’t dampen fast enough before new blazes erupted. Soon the gentle grind of his hips became rough thrusts fucking Paul’s ass into the counter, fueled by Paul’s breathy cries into Kyle’s mouth.
Even then, Kyle fought to maintain control. He broke the kiss and nuzzled behind Paul’s ear. “Let me take you to bed.”
Paul turned enough to kiss Kyle’s cheek, stroking it before leading Kyle to the bedroom.
It wasn’t enough of a walk for Kyle to calm, and when Paul began undressing as they passed through the doorway, Kyle helped him along. Pulled back the panels of his button-down shirt. Tugged his T-shirt over his head. Shoved his jeans then his underwear to his ankles, and once he was naked except for socks, Kyle pushed his lover onto the mattress.
Shedding his clothes, Kyle grinned as Paul fumbled with his socks in a lust-filled haze, only managing one and part of the other before Kyle was on him, skin to skin, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. When simple friction wasn’t enough, he followed Paul’s whispered directions for the lube, slicked them both up and captured their cocks together.
Initially he’d wanted to fuck into Paul, to feel his heat and his surrender, but everything was too delicious. The feel of Paul beneath him, shuddering, gasping, those strong arms around him. The perfect evening echoing in his mind. The contact of Paul’s head pillowing on his shoulder during the movie a remembered weight—a privilege, a gift. The scent of Paul’s hair product mingling with his sweat as they fucked, a silent admission of how much he’d prepared for their evening.
It all tangled and snarled inside him until it became an explosion of joy, of
having
. Of being, of feeling. Burying his face in Paul’s neck, digging fingers into his hair, Kyle fucked against Paul. When Paul’s bucks of response threatened to toss them off the bed, Kyle pinned his lover with his knees and latched on to Paul’s neck.
Like an animal.
The thought burned in his brain, settling loose deeper, darker passion. When he felt Paul erupting beneath him, he stopped holding back and followed suit, shooting into the small space between their bodies, until they were slick with sweat, semen and satisfaction.
Kyle tucked himself into the crook of Paul’s arm, his body buzzing in the afterglow of the most amazing sex of his life. Paul lay beneath him, limp, gasping for air, nuzzling weakly for Kyle’s cheek.
“That…was
amazing
.”
Kyle grinned through his fatigue, feeling puffed up and proud as much as he was sated. See? They’d be fine. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to be subtle in public, give Paul a chance to acclimate to being in a good relationship. That would just add to the fun, knowing they had to be discreet, had to wait until they were alone. Aware once this happened, they’d be wild together, as if they couldn’t help themselves.
But nobody had to know about that but the two of them.
Kyle sank into the blissful aftermath, his whole body glowing. He ran a hand down Paul’s meaty, hairy thigh. Over his groin, his belly. He trailed fingers through the hair of Paul’s chest, up his neck, through his beard.
Felt his joy crumble into shame as he saw the three-inch-round deep purple hickey beneath Paul’s ear.
Chapter Eleven
I
t had been embarrassing for Paul to go to the shop with a huge, glaring hickey. Especially when Arthur bypassed teasing him and moved directly into arguing more insistently that he should have a word with Kyle about control.
“You’re overreacting.” Paul touched his neck self-consciously. “He got carried away, is all. We both did.”
“Exactly my point. If you’re going to play—”
“We weren’t
playing
. Not that kind of playing, anyway.”
Arthur grimaced. “It’s all playing. Some of us are more organized and careful about it.”
Paul was absolutely not in the mood for one of Arthur’s BDSM advocacy lectures. He tugged the collar of his turtleneck higher, hating how hot he already was in it, but it was the only thing that came close to covering the hickey. “Please don’t say anything to him. He feels bad enough as it is. You’ll only make it worse.”
Though Arthur agreed he wouldn’t, Paul wasn’t sure he could trust him not to find some other way to bring it up. Which made their time together in the shop distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t much better out and about, though. The raised eyebrows from people in town and whispers at the hardware store weren’t any fun at all. The dead worst, though, was getting home at the end of a long day and receiving a phone call from his mother.
“Pauly, Fran from my circle says you’re caught up in some wicked sex ring.”
Paul cracked a beer quietly so his mother couldn’t scold him for that too and sipped it as he sank into the couch. “I’m not in a sex ring.”
“She says you’re covered in bruises.”
Jesus.
“I’m not. I have one hickey.”
“A love mark?” Mary made even the pretty euphemism sound like a scandal. But he soon learned her tone was nothing on her next line of inquiry. “Paul, they’re saying you’re seeing Kyle Parks. Tell me it isn’t true.”
Paul pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re dating, yes.”
“Oh,
Paul
.”
It was hard to guess if her objection was Paul still wasn’t dating a woman, Kyle was too young, or Kyle was the kind of guy who gave visible hickeys. Paul wasn’t making the mistake of assuming. He kept quiet and waited for her to finish.
“I thought you were past this. You haven’t
tried
dating any of the women I’ve suggested to you.”
Paul took a swig of beer and tipped his head back. “Mom, I’ve told you over and over. I don’t like girls that way.”
“You haven’t
tried
.”
“I did, Mom. In high school. Enough to know it was a horrible idea.”
“Well, nobody’s any good at it in high school. You need to try again.”
Paul drank more, shut his eyes and let her go off on a lecture. He’d done this plenty of times. Eventually she always wound down. When she got to the part about how it shamed the family, she was usually about finished.
Except tonight she had a new verse, and wouldn’t you know, she pulled out the one Paul had just managed to put away.
“I can’t believe you’d rob the cradle this way. Kyle Parks is barely out of high school.”
Paul’s hand closed more tightly around his cell phone. “He’s twenty-five.”
“You’re almost forty. You’re nearly twice his age.”
That was some creative math. Still, he kept silent.
“Your father has a lot to say to you, but he’s too angry right now. He’s going to sit you down on Sunday when you come for dinner after church.”
Paul’s headache bloomed. “I won’t be able to come to dinner. We’re planning for Winter Wonderland.”
“You can come on Saturday then. Though the way that
festival
is going, I’m not sure you should be a part of it at all.”
“It’s Kyle’s day off. We were going to Mountain Iron to watch a movie.”
This news sent her back to the start of her lecture and Paul to his fridge to get a second beer, but before he could get one, a tentative knock sounded on his door. He answered it silently, his mother still scolding in his ear.
Kyle stood on Paul’s stoop. Naughty puppies appeared less remorseful than Kyle, though not half as cute. The sight of his boyfriend was balm enough to Paul’s shitty mood, but when his nose told him the tall, round plastic container Kyle bore was full of cake, his heart swelled. When he saw, perched atop the cake container, the homemade gift bag with delicately handwritten
I’m sorry
surrounded by swirls and glitter, Paul’s heart cracked and melted.
“Mom, I have to go,” he said, interrupting her mid-rant and hanging up on her as she sputtered in shock.
Kyle looked miserable. “I’m so,
so
sorry.”
That had almost been the only thing Kyle had said to him all day, ever since they woke up in the morning and saw Paul’s hickey was
worse
than the night before. Seeing Kyle standing there, so cute and hot and carrying cake and a present, Paul thought he’d take a hickey on his
nose
. “I keep telling you. Don’t worry about it.” Snuffing out the urge to be shy, he pressed a kiss on Kyle’s cheek. “Come on in. It’s warmer than it’s been, but it’s still cold outside.”
Once inside the door, Kyle took off his boots, but not his coat. His green scrubs scraped the floor. “I can’t stay long. I want to get to work early because they’re bringing Edna.”
Paul felt like an ass for forgetting about his neighbor. “Is she there short term, or for good?”
“Short term for now, but everyone’s hoping she agrees to move in permanently.” He pressed the cake and present into Paul’s hands. “Here. I baked you a red velvet cake.” His cheeks stained. “Also, I knit something for you. It’s in the bag.”
Paul flushed too, though more with pleasure than embarrassment. “You didn’t need to do any of this.”
Kyle gestured impatiently. “Go on. Open the present. I want to make sure it fits.”
Paul set the cake on his coffee table and pulled tissue paper out of the gift bag with an odd flutter in his chest. It was nothing, though, to what he felt when he withdrew a beautiful orange and green knit hat from the bag.
“It has the felt lining, so it’s extra warm.” Kyle bit his lip and regarded the cap with scrutiny. “I hesitated over what style. I wanted to make you one with earflaps, but you don’t normally wear deerstalkers unless you’re hunting or it’s extra cold. I hope you don’t mind the bobble on top. It didn’t look right without it.”
“It’s perfect. Beautiful. When did you do this? Did you even sleep today?”
“I started once I got home the other day, after the blizzard. They really don’t take me long, but also I wanted you to have it as soon as possible.”
Paul hadn’t ever had anyone make anything for him, and it made him melt. “It’s so
nice.
I’ll have to save it for special occasions.”
Kyle swatted his arm. “You will not. I made this for you to
wear
.”
“But what if I catch it on a nail at work or something?”
“Then you tell me, and I fix it. Or make you another one.” Kyle sighed, took the hat from Paul’s hands and put it on his head.
It fit like a glove, but Kyle still tugged on it, fussing and regarding his creation with a critical eye. Paul held his breath, terrified Kyle would find something wrong with it and take it away. But eventually Kyle nodded curtly and stood back.
“It’ll do. I think I might make it slightly bigger next time, so you can tug it lower if it’s cold. I brought some yarn with me to work, so I’ll get started on it tonight.” His cheeks stained. “And a scarf, so you don’t have to be embarrassed by my thoughtlessness. I really am sorry, Paul.”
It was funny. All day Paul had been frustrated by the hickey, but now he was almost glad for it. Now everyone knew. Everybody would be talking about how Paul Jansen and Kyle Parks were dating. They knew who’d given him the
love mark
.
And Paul knew the man who’d done it was by turns aggressive and sensual and thoughtful and sweet.
“Don’t worry about it.” Paul touched his new hat. “If hickeys mean I get cake and knitted things, you can give me one every day.”
Kyle smiled ruefully, then kissed Paul—on the mouth this time, in a lingering way that made Paul wish Kyle truly didn’t have to go to work. “I can’t wait for the weekend. I wish I had the whole day off on Sunday and could be part of all the planning.”
Paul did too. “We’ll get the hard stuff done when you’re gone. I worry you’ll be too tired from our date the night before, though.”
Kyle kissed the bruise on Paul’s neck. “Don’t worry. I’ll wear you out too.”
When Kyle finally left, Paul had a stiffy in his jeans and a warm feeling in his belly. It wasn’t anything, though, to what his stomach felt like once he had a piece of Kyle’s red velvet cake.
As the sugar and cream cheese hummed in his system, his head snug and warm inside his hat, Paul let the gifts from his boyfriend chase away his own doubts and those his mother had sown. He thought about the coming weekend, full of friends and plans and possibilities.
Pulling the hat from his head, Paul shut his eyes and took a deep draught of the smell of wool and Kyle.
Then he had another piece of cake.
Edna arrived at the care center five minutes after Kyle did, but he’d had enough time to set out flowers and balloons in her room. After a phone call with her son, Kyle had added three cans of Pringles to the loot. Edna, low on sodium and weight, had been given clearance to eat all the potato chips she wanted.
He’d brought one of his mother’s quilts from home as well, knowing he couldn’t turn the room into Edna’s home, but he tried to make it as homey as possible nonetheless. When she was wheeled in, he beamed at her, and when she beckoned him closer, eagerly accepted her hug.
“How are you feeling?” He crouched so he was level with her gaze. “Did they treat you well at the hospital?”
Edna huffed. “The food was terrible. But the nurses were wonderful.”
Good, because Kyle had called over and pulled every favor he had to get her rock-star treatment. “I’ll have to work hard to live up to their high standard. I know we can beat them for food, though. And I already stocked your room with contraband.”
Edna patted his hand, then drew it to her lips for a kiss. “Thank you, young man.” Her grip on his hand tightened a little. “I see you’re in your work clothes. How long are you here tonight?”
“I don’t go on shift until seven, so you and I have a full forty-five minutes to gossip. I brought my latest knitting project, and I expect you to pull no punches. I’ll never improve if you don’t give me an honest critique.”
Her son, despite being married with two kids—all of them huddled behind him in the hallway—looked like he wanted to kiss Kyle. “Thank you so much for your help. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I’m only doing my job.” Kyle stepped aside so Hans could wheel Edna into the room.
He largely hung to the side as the family settled Edna in, answering their questions and backing up the center director as she gave Edna her orientation. He wasn’t surprised, though, that Edna shooed her family out at quarter to seven and planted Kyle in the seat beside her head.
“It’s going to be fine,” he promised her before she could work up the courage to voice her fears. “No one will keep you here if you don’t want to be here, once you’re well.”
“And what if I don’t get well?”
“Then I’ll do my best to convince you it’s better to let me help you here than come visit and find you’re bleeding out on your kitchen floor.”
It was blunt talk, but he knew it was what Edna needed to hear. She sighed and smoothed her hand over the quilt. “This is nice work. Your mother’s?”
“Yes. She’s been showing me how to quilt, but I’m a slow learner.”
“I never got the hang of it. Hate the sound of the machine. It’s nothing on the click of needles.”
Kyle smiled. “Would you let me take my break tonight in here? I’ll bring my knitting, and I’ll click all you like.”
She pulled a haughty face. “I’m not holding back if I think you’re doing it wrong.”
“Good.”
He hated to leave her when his shift started, but he also knew she needed some time to come to terms with her new situation. He also had plenty of work to do, so much that he had to cut a deal with Trina to arrange his break at a time when Edna would still be awake.
“You’re so sweet to the little old ladies.” Trina waved him off. “Go on. But I want to hear all about this hickey you planted on Paul Jansen once everybody’s in for the night.”
Edna, thankfully, hadn’t heard the gossip about the hickey, or she’d decided it was too scandalous to bring up. She only ate potato chips and ruthlessly critiqued his stitches. She insisted she wasn’t tired, but after he helped her through her evening routine, it was clear how exhausted she was.
When he left her room and headed to the nurses’ station, Corrina Anderson waited for him.
Unable to help it, Kyle broke out in a deep blush.
She rolled her eyes and waved his embarrassment away. “None of that. No, it’s not what I would have advised, but it seems to have worked out okay. Even the hickey. Maybe not quite such a
big
one, but it certainly has everyone talking.”
Didn’t Kyle know it. “Can I stop watching the movies now? I think I figured it out. He loves happy endings and soft, gooey stories. Right?”
She cinched her scarf tighter around her neck. “I’ll have Gabriel pull some more. Though it sounds as if you’ll be short on time to watch them, what with work, the Winter Wonderland preparation Sunday, and your big date on Saturday.”
And yet she clearly still expected him to do his homework. Kyle sighed.
Corrina patted his shoulder. “It’s important, dear. Paul’s a complicated man.”
“I don’t understand why I have to watch bad movies to understand him.”
She hesitated, as if weighing her options, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you one hint. Part of the reason he watches them is because of his family.”
“His family? What, the movies are some kind of tradition?”
Corrina’s lips flattened. “Oh, no. More of a replacement. The Jansens aren’t kind to him in general, and his mother and sister are the worst. Mary’s especially always been a stick-in-the-mud. Never gave up hope Paul dating my son was him going through a phase. But no matter who he dates of any gender, she won’t be happy until the boy is back under her thumb.”