Christmas Spirit: An Enemies to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Age Gap MM Christmas Romance by Ali Ryecart

Author:Ali Ryecart [Ryecart, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Georgie’s nose twitched and his mouth began to water. The savoury aroma of bacon filled his senses, as succulent, salty and tangy as—

He opened his eyes, blinking at the tapestried bed curtains of the four poster.

As tangy as… He swallowed, chasing the last vestiges of a dream that was already fading in the morning light. Fluttering candlelight, dancing over his body, over Roland’s body, as they’d twisted and turned and tumbled in the bed, the duvet pushed to the floor.

Fuck.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

No, no way. He’d dreamed about him and Roland?

Christ, he wasn’t that desperate to have screwed his boss. Was he?

No. The candles, in his dream because that’s what it was, had been aflame. He’d put them out before his fruitless attempt to sleep in the chair, before he’d slipped into bed at Roland’s command, clinging onto the edge, keeping as much distance between him and Roland as he could. If he’d put the candles out, then they couldn’t have been alight, which meant he and Roland couldn’t have… Georgie shifted, and the bed creaked.

“Good, you’re awake. You should get up because I want to go soon.”

At the window, staring out, Roland stood clutching a large steaming coffee cup. His hair was slightly mussed, as though he’d been running his hands through it. A pair of black jeans moulded themselves to his long legs, and a dark moss green jumper wrapped itself around his torso. Green, like Roland’s eyes, glittering in yellow candlelight, just before he grinned and went down—

No. No, none of that had happened, because it couldn’t have. It just couldn’t.

“Sure. I’ll jump in the shower. I’ll be really quick.”

One of the abandoned towels lay within arm’s length and Georgie tugged it over, pulling it around his waist to hide his nakedness.

I was wearing my pants when I got into bed.

They lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

He threw a glance at Roland, who carried on staring out at the snow-covered landscape, completely still and as though he were alone. Grabbing his clothes, Georgie dashed to the bathroom, with no idea how he was going to ask Roland, Roland Fletcher Jones, his boss, if they’d done a whole lot more than, literally, sleep together.

“It’s stopped snowing and it’s a clear sky, thank God. I’ll get directions to town from Nicholas,” Roland said, when Georgie emerged fully dressed from the bathroom.

His train. Would there even be one running?

“Sure, thanks.”

Roland was still staring out of the window, still clutching his coffee exactly as he had been when Georgie had woken up. Georgie wrinkled his brow. The sunlight. That was wrong. Roland had wanted to be out of the hotel by 7.00am, when it would have been more dark than light.

“Did we sleep through the alarm?”

It would’ve been odd, because he was such a light sleeper. A fly scratching its arse, or a moonbeam farting, were more than enough to wake him up and keep him wide-eyed for hours. Unless something had given him cause to sleep long and deep.

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