The CEO's Christmas Manny by Angela McCallister

Author:Angela McCallister [McCallister, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64405-120-7
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Sasha

AS Sasha leaned into the open fridge in search of milk, a hand slid up his spine to grip the top of his shoulder and hook him back against hips that moved suggestively. He laughed and pushed back into them.

“Careful,” he said, hearing the smile in his own voice.

“What?” Nic said. “Like the kids would be awake anywhere near this early on a Saturday.”

It had been a few days since the first wild hookup he’d had with Nic after the board games, but there hadn’t been any efforts to break the seal, so to speak. His knock on the head hadn’t helped, but he’d been all good after a few hours. What they had been doing was a lot of sneaky fooling around and making out in darkened corners, the alarms in the back of his mind that warned him of trouble ahead diminishing more and more each day. Nothing felt better than leaving his anxiety behind and permitting himself the joy of touching Nic and being touched. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought of Nic as an iceman.

Last night in the laundry room still played on repeat in the back of his mind. He relived the tight grip of Nic’s hand in his hair, guiding Sasha’s head up and down while Nic fucked his mouth. Nic had been the perfect size, longer than Sasha, though not quite as thick. It had been late at night with no one around to walk in on them unexpectedly, and they’d locked the door.

Still, they needed to be careful. It wouldn’t take much of a slipup for them to crash and burn.

Nic’s surprised laugh nabbed Sasha’s attention. “What the hell?” Nic pointed to the middle of the island.

“Well, I guess the elf is watching the kitchen today.” He shrugged, eyeing the scrawny elf doll lying flat on its back on top of a small pile of white powder.

“The elf on the shelf is part of a Colombian cartel?” Nic asked.

“Pretty sure that’s flour.” Then Sasha rolled his eyes. “And please, don’t tell me you don’t know about making snow angels.”

“What if I didn’t?”

“I’d teach you.” Sasha leaned over the counter to kiss Nic on the lips. “I’m making french toast. Interested?”

“Damn, that sounds good.”

“Have a seat.” Sasha set the milk on the counter and grabbed the eggs, cinnamon, and vanilla.

“Hmm.” The low rumble of Nic’s voice always stirred up Sasha’s arousal. “I thought you weren’t into baking.”

He grinned. “This doesn’t qualify in my book. I don’t mind cooking or even baking on my own. I clean as I go.” He whisked the ingredients together while the griddle heated. “There’s a trick I like to use with these babies—aside from using thick bread anyway. Add a little bit of sweetened condensed milk in place of part of the milk, like so.”

Nic’s gaze followed Sasha’s movements, his head tilted to one side. As usual, Sasha loved the way Nic looked at him. There was always a slight edge of surprise there, as if he could hardly believe his eyes.

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