Snowed In with the Scot by Hannah Morse

Author:Hannah Morse [Morse, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

“What should I do with you?” Broc tutted as he walked over to the hearth. He set the condom, wipes, and lube down a safe distance from the fire to warm.

Dawson’s eyes had gone wide. “I got the fire going?” He pointed at the blaze.

“Aye, but you still have your trousers on. I guess it’ll be up to me to get them off.” He crossed his arm and leaned against the warm stones next to the fireplace. “Now what were you up to?”

Dawson radiated guilt. “Nothing?”

“Sure, mate, and I’m the bloody king of England.” Broc narrowed his eyes. “Ah, I bet you were shaking that gift under the tree.”

“Well—”

“Naughty.” Broc was actually pleased, but he couldn’t help teasing Dawson a bit, the guy was too cute with pink cheeks. It’d not been the easiest thing to pull the carving out of storage, because once upon a time it’d been meant for Gordon. How could someone be both possessive and a cheater at the same time? The small statue had been made with love, and it’d sat too long hidden away. Broc didn’t know if he’d see Dawson again once the snow had gone, but he wanted to give the bloke a small part of himself so that Dawson wouldn’t forget that they’d spent Christmas together. Broc hoped he’d like it.

Dawson edged his way to the middle of the thick rug. “What would you like me to do?”

Broc scratched his chin. “I think stay right there.”

Dawson’s shoulders straightened and he looked straight ahead like he was at attention.

“What did you do in the Air Force? You said you were a pilot. Are you some jet jockey fellow, like in that movie?”

Dawson’s serious expression cracked into a smile, one that had Broc pushing himself off the wall and stalking over to Dawson.

“Tom Cruise is a Navy pilot in that movie, and I look more like Ice Man anyway. I flew cargo planes, moving men and equipment around the globe. I was stationed at Anderson Air Force Base in Guam. Nice place, lots of lizards.”

“Sounds humid.” Broc stopped right in front of Dawson to run a fingertip up his sternum before wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. He stroked the hollow of Dawson’s throat, the skin soft and smooth under his thumb. He replaced his thumb with his lips, worshipping the spot with his lips and tongue.

Dawson groaned and his head tilted back, giving Broc more tanned skin to explore. He took his time, nibbling his way up to the corner of Dawson’s chiseled jaw.

“You’re very tan, spaceman,” Broc said. He planted kisses back down to Dawson’s collarbone.

Dawson made a soft, pleased noise, then cleared his throat. “This is the palest I’ve been in ages. I spent my childhood running around mostly naked on the beach.”

“I don’t see any tan lines.” Broc tugged the side of Dawson’s trousers away from his hip, double-checking.

“Now I’m grown up, and I like to soak up all the sun I can when I’m able.

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