Dust of Snow (26 page)

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Authors: Indra Vaughn

Tags: #humor, #holidays, #christmas, #gay romance, #winter, #contemporary romance, #office romance

BOOK: Dust of Snow
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“You’ll have to clean up in the bathroom,” I
said. “This is no good.”

“Okay, but first tell me why you look like a
kicked puppy.”

“Someone forgot my Secret Santa,” I pouted,
eyeing the punch.

“Aw, poor boo,” she cooed, not looking very
sympathetic at all.

“Go make out with your HR boyfriend,” I
groused, and I lifted the ladle again.

“I noticed another stain on my carpet,
Monsieur Peck.” Carl’s voice purred in my ear and I nearly spilled
punch all over the table.

“There was an incident,” I began, blood
rising to my cheeks. “With… uh. Coffee! Very milky coffee. I tried
to clean it—” Ah, forget it. “I’ll call in the carpet cleaners,” I
mumbled.

“You should try the coatrack next time. The
rail is very sturdy. Good for handcuffs,” Carl said with a wink as
I nearly dropped my cup. I drained it and reached for the ladle
again.

“Sweet Jesus,” I whispered.

A warm body pressed up to mine. I could feel
Ashley’s breath against my neck when he said, “I’m gonna make you
an offer you can’t refuse.” I wriggled against him and he
gasped.

“I’ll never go hungry again?”

Ash laughed, turning me around. “I should
hope not, but maybe this year you don’t have to be cold either.
Merry Christmas, baby.” He held out an envelope.


You’re
my Secret Santa?” I blurted,
staring at the white paper.

“It took some effort to figure out who had
your name, but yes. Go on, open it.”

For some reason, I knew this was going to be
big, so my hands shook when I eased the lip of the envelope open.
Plane tickets. Oh God, oh God,
oh God
. Who even got their
hands on real tickets these days?

I slid them out so I could read the
destination. “Ashley!” I cried. “Oh my fucking God!” He muffled a
laugh and looked around quickly, but those who were paying
attention to us were nothing but amused. “Fuck,” I whispered.
“Fuck, Ashley, this is too much.” And here I was feeling sorry for
myself. “If I wasn’t so fucking happy right now, I’d punch you.” I
threw my arms around him and squeezed tight.

“We’re all going, Greg,” Ashley said. “I
saved up so many air miles over the years that I got free plane
tickets for everyone. Your mom, Valerie, my parents. We’re all
going.”

“Fucking hell.” I was almost crying now—okay,
that was enough punch—and I hid my face in his shoulder. “I love
you so fucking much, you know that right?”

“Yes, but please stop swearing,” Ashley
whispered with a laugh.

“I don’t care. Let’s go home. I need you to
fuck me into tomorrow.”

Ashley made a choked sort of noise and then
practically pushed me through the door without saying good-bye to
anyone.

On the drive home—with Ash behind the wheel,
for the record—we veered close to the shoulder a few times because
I had trouble keeping my hands to myself. The giddy happiness of
having him, the thought of leaving this cold behind if only for a
little while, and the alcohol in my system made me lose all my
inhibitions. I’d gotten better over the past year, but I still had
a tendency to clam up sometimes. Not tonight.

“I have plans for you,” I breathed down
Ashley’s neck when we nearly swerved off the road for the second
time. Thank goodness there were no other cars nearby. “So please
don’t kill us yet.”

“Then get your hand out of my pants, Gregory.
I swear to God you are driving me crazy and I do not want to drive
into a snowbank.”

“Hmm,” I agreed, but I left my hand right
where it was. His belt dug into my wrist but I was beyond caring.
Ashley’s hands white knuckled the steering wheel. I dug my tongue
in his ear, and he squirmed. “Will you promise to fuck me later?” I
asked.

“Oh God,” Ashley groaned softly. “Yes, of
course I will. But please get back in your seat now. I don’t want
to crash.”

“Okay.” I let go of him reluctantly and sank
back. We rode in silence after that, and I had to concentrate on
sitting still. Even after a year together, the idea of being with
Ash still made butterflies burst to life in my stomach. Every time
he kissed me I felt it in my belly.

When we made it to his house, I quickly
showered. Ashley wanted to join me but I shut him out with a grin,
and while he took his turn, I settled on the bed. By the time he
entered, wrapped in a towel and drying his hair, I lay naked on the
bed with my legs spread, slowly tugging my cock. The only light in
the room was from the pale blue night-light I’d given him last
year. He hardly ever had nightmares anymore, but he always kept it
on.

Ashley’s mouth dropped open and the towel
slipped from his hair to the floor. The nerves curling around my
spine were nothing but anticipation now.

“Gregory,” he croaked, and that steady blush
began in the middle of his chest, working its way up under my
gaze.

I grinned and hooked an arm behind my head.
“Come on then, Mr. Montgomery. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I see that. Christ.” I dipped my hand lower,
and Ashley dropped his other towel and launched himself at me.

Ashley flipped me over, hiked up my hips, and
bit my left butt cheek. My heartbeat fluttered in my chest as he
took me with no remorse. The first finger burned, and I squirmed
against the pain, and then gasped and pushed into the pleasure. My
hips quivered on shaky legs as he strummed the nerves inside me. I
was like an instrument begging to be played.

“Fuck,” Ashley swore at some point, and I had
to unglue my face from the pillow to look over my shoulder.

I grunted. “What?”

“I’m out of condoms.”

“I’m clean.” I said it without second
thought—without hesitation. “No one but you.”

“Me either. You really— Are we doing this?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Because I want to do
this.”

The giddy happiness spilled from my mouth.
“Come on.” I wriggled, and his eyes were drawn right where I wanted
them. “Come on, Ashley,” I coaxed. “Give me the full Monty.”

He laughed under his breath with a tiny shake
of his head and bent down. His tongue swiped over me and my entire
body stuttered, from my twitching toes to my overworked heart. He
pushed my shoulders back onto the bed, kneed my legs farther apart,
and a cramp of painful arousal made me choke out a cry.

“All right?” Ashley asked, the blunt tip of
his naked cockhead pressing against my hole.

“Yes.” I clenched in anticipation, my cock
squeezed out a dribble of precome, and my brain kept misfiring
commands to my heart. “All systems go.”

Ashley didn’t laugh, although I liked to
think he might’ve wanted to, but the feeling of him breaching me
without a layer of rubber started a slow-building burn. With each
push of his hips, Ashley began to elicit sensations I’d only ever
caught glimpses of before. It was like heat under a pressure
cooker. Relentlessly he came at me, coaxing pleasure from my body
until I felt steam might burst from my ears at any minute.

“Jesus,” I moaned. “Jesus fucking Christ, oh
God
.” I’d been pushed up the bed and had to plant my hands
against the headboard to stop colliding with it. And still he came
at me. I had no defenses, nothing to hold off the overwhelming
buildup of quite frankly frightening turmoil inside my body. I
didn’t know whether to push into it or squirm away, so I did both.
I writhed on his cock until I couldn’t take it anymore, until the
hammering of my prostate became too much and a choked sob escaped
me.

“Gregory!” Ashley cried out, alarmed or
aroused or both, I didn’t know. His hips stuttered.

“Don’t stop,” I yelled. “For fuck’s sake,
don’t stop. Here comes the first one.” It was ridiculous, and if
I’d been watching myself I would’ve died with embarrassment, but
the veil of lust held back all inhibitions. I wailed when Ashley
lifted up my hips, picked up speed, and beat the orgasm out of me
so that I came impaled on his dick without even touching myself. He
waited just long enough for my ragged, wet breaths to calm a
little.

Then he pulled out, flipped me over, and dove
back in again. His mouth was on me before the room stopped
spinning, and I tasted desperation on his tongue.

“I don’t know if I can hold off long enough
for a second one,” he said, his face flushed red and his eyes so
dark they were reflecting stars.

“It won’t take much.” I gasped weakly when he
tried a gentle thrust. My over-stimulated nerve endings protested,
and I shuddered.

“Need a minute?”

“No. Go for it.”

He hooked my legs over his shoulders, bent
double so he could kiss me, and started a slow, deep roll of his
hips that soon picked up speed. Little breaths of air puffed out of
his mouth, sweat beaded his forehead, and I pushed his hair away
from his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured while he
hammered into me. I let him have me, my body for the moment too
wrecked to respond. His eyes locked with mine and his breathing
became so labored he sounded like he’d been running a marathon.
“You feel so good,” I groaned, my muscles starting to tense again.
Ashley looked determined and hopeful and fearful and vulnerable all
in one go.

“Greg…”

“Ash, I will never,” I whispered, knowing
exactly what I was doing, “never, ever love anyone as much as I
love you.”

He let out a pained cry, hiked himself up on
his knees so my thighs fit into the fold of his hips, and took me
almost brutally. His fist closed over my cock. It twitched in
sensitive protest, but then the burn faded, my body began to
tighten, and my heart took flight when the second—dry this
time—orgasm knocked me sideways. In the distance I heard Ashley cry
out, and then felt the unfamiliar sensation of his semen painting
my insides.

“Did I push you too hard?” he whispered
afterwards, the glow of the blue nightlight casting shadows on the
wall. Outside the window, new snow drifted down. I watched it with
a lazy smile. I didn’t know how much time had passed, and I didn’t
much care. I had no thoughts for anything beyond the warmth of
Ashley beside me, the gentle probe of his fingers against my hole,
checking to see if I was all right.

“I’m fine,” I gulped. “Rough is good,
sometimes. Although I think I’ll be in the driver’s seat for the
next day or two.”

His fingers dragged through the wetness that
leaked from my body and his eyes went dark. “Is it disgusting that
I find this really hot?” he asked me, cheeks burning.

“No.” I laughed a little. “Not at all. You’re
sleeping in the wet patch, though.”

“Two orgasms and that’s my thanks?”

“You’re just jealous you can’t do it, old
man,” I mumbled, pressing my face against his neck.

Ashley fingered my hair and stroked my nape.
“That I can do that to you…
with
you…” I felt him shake his
head. He took a shuddery breath. “I can’t think of anything better.
God, I love you.”

There was come sticking to my back and
leaking from my body. We were sweaty and hot, and I was hungry and
thirsty, but not even an earthquake could’ve made me let go of
Ashley now. His breathing still came in uneven huffs, and I wanted
to lift up a little to look at him. He didn’t let me.

“Ash?”

“I’m going to teach you to surf,” he mumbled
in my hair. “We’ll watch the sunrise from the beach. We’ll
celebrate Christmas in T-shirts and shorts, Greg. You’ll love it.”
He squeezed me tight. “You’ll love it so much.”

“I’m buying a ring,” I whispered, my voice
harsh—almost angry. “I’m buying a ring and I’ll be kneeling in the
white sand, and you’d better act surprised. You’d better say yes.”
Ashley propped himself on his elbow and stared down at me, mouth
slack. “You better say yes”—I insisted, salt leaking from my eyes
as I gazed up at him—”because I never want to spend a Christmas
without you again.”

Ashley slid his mouth over mine, prying it
open with his tongue. “Yes,” he murmured between kisses. “Yes, yes,
yes
.”

 

 

Fin.

Dear Reader,

 

I hope you enjoyed Dust of Snow. This story started
out as a way to deal with my own winter woes, and I grew very
attached to Greg along the way, so I am honored and pleased you
stuck with him until the end. Thank you for spending time with me
in my own little world.

 

Keep warm and happy holidays,

 

Indra

 

 

Other works by Indra Vaughn:

 

The House on Hancock Hill 

Hooked

Chasing Ghosts

Ties That Bind

 

Coming Soon:

 

Shadow Mountain 1: Fated

Shadow Mountain 2: Fractured

 

Two for Joy

 

About the author:

Indra Vaughn moved from Belgium
to Michigan in 2008, leaving everything behind that wouldn’t fit in
a single suitcase. She now lives near Detroit with a dog who thinks
he’s a toddler, and a toddler who thinks he’s Bam Bam.

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