Lawson Sanders has been forced to take some time off at Christmas as he’s been working through holidays and doing overtime on the job while his husband has been deployed. He finds it easier to ignore the loneliness if he’s busy. He’s filling the time with Charity work—wrapping presents, serving food, anything that will keep him busy this Christmas.
Steven Ford’s been working as an army field nurse overseas for the last two years. He’s gotten used to barking out orders and not being home. He’s just mustered out though and is home to surprise his husband Lawson just in time for the holidays.
Just before Steven left, this Dom and sub officially got married, but they never got a honeymoon and now they need to rediscover how they fit together. Can Steven and Lawson regain what they’ve been missing for the last two years and reconnect for Christmas?
* Note: This is a standalone book with an HEA and no cliffhanger.
“How about we order a pizza from that all night joint. It’ll give us enough time for you to blow me before it comes.”
“Oh, ho! You think you deserve that?” Fact was, he’d happily agree to that.
“I sure do. I haven’t felt that mouth around me since the night we said, ‘I do.’” Law got up and grabbed the phone.
“I do love the taste of your prick, the way you scream.”
“Oh, you’re going to make me scream, are you?” Law watched him for a long moment, then made the call.
Steven bebopped over and hit his knees, fully intending to make this the hardest pizza order Law had ever done.
Law’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t back up, didn’t make any move to stop Steven.
“Do it,” Law ordered. “What? Oh, no hello. Delivery, please.”
Steven took Law in in one fell swoop, sucking fast and hard, giving his lover no quarter.
“Fuck!” Law stared at him. “No. No, sorry. Something on the uh, TV.”
Steven chuckled and rolled Law’s balls in his hand. Law whimpered, then cleared his throat. Several times.
“Yeah, yeah, I’d like a... a...” Law’s free hand landed on Steven’s head, fingers digging into his scalp.
Oh, hell yeah. Steven swallowed around the tip, moaning loud enough that Law had to feel it. A shudder went through his stud and the hold on his head tightened. He glanced up, finding Law’s grip on the phone white—knuckled.
“Meat lovers. Large. Mountain Dew. And uh...” Law’s eyes closed.
Garlic cheese bread and chocolate chip cookies. Think, Law. Steven dared to tap Law’s hole, stroke it.
“No, that’s not all,” Law said, sounding almost angry. He took a breath. “I need garlic bread. Yes. With cheese.” Law fell back against the wall, stumbling the half step backward.
Steven lost that fat cock, and growled, scooting forward. “Cookies.” Then he sucked Law’s fat prick down.
“Cookies!” Law shouted. “Chocolate chip. Please. Yes, that’s everything.” Law panted, eyes on him, attention all on him, even as he rattled off their address. “Credit card. Twenty minutes. Got it.” Law dropped the phone, hands grabbing his head.
Impressive. Funny as hell, but impressive.
“Fucker,” Law accused, but there wasn’t anything but need in the word. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
Oh, not for love or money. He wanted Law’s spunk. Now.
“Oh, ho! You think you deserve that?” Fact was, he’d happily agree to that.
“I sure do. I haven’t felt that mouth around me since the night we said, ‘I do.’” Law got up and grabbed the phone.
“I do love the taste of your prick, the way you scream.”
“Oh, you’re going to make me scream, are you?” Law watched him for a long moment, then made the call.
Steven bebopped over and hit his knees, fully intending to make this the hardest pizza order Law had ever done.
Law’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t back up, didn’t make any move to stop Steven.
“Do it,” Law ordered. “What? Oh, no hello. Delivery, please.”
Steven took Law in in one fell swoop, sucking fast and hard, giving his lover no quarter.
“Fuck!” Law stared at him. “No. No, sorry. Something on the uh, TV.”
Steven chuckled and rolled Law’s balls in his hand. Law whimpered, then cleared his throat. Several times.
“Yeah, yeah, I’d like a... a...” Law’s free hand landed on Steven’s head, fingers digging into his scalp.
Oh, hell yeah. Steven swallowed around the tip, moaning loud enough that Law had to feel it. A shudder went through his stud and the hold on his head tightened. He glanced up, finding Law’s grip on the phone white—knuckled.
“Meat lovers. Large. Mountain Dew. And uh...” Law’s eyes closed.
Garlic cheese bread and chocolate chip cookies. Think, Law. Steven dared to tap Law’s hole, stroke it.
“No, that’s not all,” Law said, sounding almost angry. He took a breath. “I need garlic bread. Yes. With cheese.” Law fell back against the wall, stumbling the half step backward.
Steven lost that fat cock, and growled, scooting forward. “Cookies.” Then he sucked Law’s fat prick down.
“Cookies!” Law shouted. “Chocolate chip. Please. Yes, that’s everything.” Law panted, eyes on him, attention all on him, even as he rattled off their address. “Credit card. Twenty minutes. Got it.” Law dropped the phone, hands grabbing his head.
Impressive. Funny as hell, but impressive.
“Fucker,” Law accused, but there wasn’t anything but need in the word. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
Oh, not for love or money. He wanted Law’s spunk. Now.
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and persuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago."
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
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EMAIL: seanmichaelwrites@gmail.com
