Because Naughty Holidays Can Be Oh So Nice 2015 (12 page)

Z was nothing but sensation. He felt the hard bite of RT’s fingertips against his skin, the glorious thickness of RT’s cock tunneling in and out of him, stroking every nerve ending. Reaching down with one hand, Z gripped his cock hard, stroking in time with every wonderfully brutal thrust.

“Z.” The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the small space. “Fuck, Z. So good.”

RT leaned forward, pressing one hand against Z’s, which was still planted firmly on the wall. Z shifted, linking their fingers as RT continued to impale him over and over while Z stroked himself, his balls tightening as his orgasm neared.

“Gonna … come … Z. Fuck, baby.”

Z was right there with him, his breath rushing in and out of his lungs as he succumbed to the pleasure, his cock pulsing in his hand.

A roar split the air, and Z wasn’t sure if it was him or RT or both of them. His release slammed into him, driving the air from his lungs, muscles contracting as he came at the same time RT stopped pumping his hips, jerking against Z’s ass as he filled him.

Z grabbed RT’s arm as it came around his chest, holding him tight as RT leaned against him, both of them working to catch their breath. Z finally managed to force himself to stand upright, turning to face RT. Cupping his face, Z stared into the most beautiful face.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing RT’s mouth.

“Love you, too.” RT cleared his throat and pulled back, looking at Z. “So does that count?”

“As…?” Z tried to process the question.

“As adding our own touch.”

Z grinned, pulling RT closer and kissing him again. “It does. Definitely.”

God, he loved this man.

Chapter Six

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Ryan was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels, while Z was working in the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of pots and pans, mixers, and yes, sometimes a few expletives, but he remained where he was, not wanting to interrupt.

Though Ryan’s pecan pie had turned out good—they’d had some last night before they’d gone to bed—Z said he had to make several more to feed all the people who would be at Ryan’s parents’ house for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. Turned out that several more meant three of each, so Ryan had done his best to stay out of the way.

Now, as he stared at the gifts beneath the tree, he had the sudden urge to interrupt Z. To take his hand, lead him to the couch, sit him down, and give him the gift he’d bought.

He’d spent weeks trying to come up with the best idea for a gift, and he’d never figured it out. Not until he’d talked to Buddy, listened to the story that had changed Ryan’s perspective on everything. He’d never been much on gift giving. For his family, it was easy. Buy them a gift card to their favorite place and let them figure out what they wanted. Not that Z had allowed him to do that this year, but it hadn’t failed him before.

With Z, it wasn’t that easy. He couldn’t simply buy a gift card or run out to the closest store and grab just anything off the shelf. He wanted it to be special, something that Z would remember for years to come.

And that was when the idea had hit him.

Z walked into the room, pulling Ryan out of his thoughts when he flopped onto the couch beside him.

“Finally. The last of the pies are in the oven.”

Ryan smiled. “You sure you’ll have enough?”

Z turned his head slowly, glaring back at Ryan and making him laugh.

“Kidding. You’ll have more than enough, I promise.”

“I hope so.” Z closed his eyes for a minute, and Ryan took the opportunity to watch him.

He did that from time to time. He loved watching Z. Whether Z was at work, at the gym, at the grocery store, in the shower, beneath Ryan while he slowly buried himself deep inside of Z, or even when he was asleep, one of Ryan’s favorite pastimes was to watch him. He was beyond beautiful in every way. Inside and out.

“So when’re you gonna open my present?” Z asked, opening one eye and peering over at Ryan.

“When you open mine.”

Ryan could practically feel the warmth of Z’s gaze as it raked over his face, Z seemingly studying him. Before he could ask what Z was thinking, the giant man was up off the couch and running to the tree. He dug out something from the back and returned to the couch, placing the brightly wrapped gift in front of him.

“Mine first,” Z said with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Fine,” he huffed, grinning as he lifted the huge box.

It was heavy. Heavier than he would’ve expected.

Glancing over at Z momentarily, Ryan peeled the paper back, revealing a plain brown cardboard box that had been taped shut. Within seconds, Ryan had the tape off and the box open. His heart was pounding as he lifted the helmet out of the box, staring wide-eyed at it.

“You didn’t,” he whispered, taking in the intricate air-brushing detail.

“I did,” Z confirmed. “Myself.”

Ryan’s eyes widened, his gaze slamming into Z’s face. “You did this?”

Z nodded, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “I had some help, and it took me a while to get the airbrush thing down, but after weeks of practice…”

Ryan knew that Z was artistic. It was something he’d learned about him after they’d gotten married. There was so much depth to the man, Ryan figured they could spend a lifetime together and Z would still be surprising him with all that he was capable of.

The helmet matched Ryan’s bike, but it was the airbrushing that stole his breath. Ghost flames and skulls covered every inch. It was incredible. Not over the top, but Z would know that wasn’t what Ryan wanted.

As Ryan lifted it up to get a better look, something fell out.

It was a card.

Glancing at Z again, he retrieved the envelope, opened it, and read the card. It was cheesy, making him laugh, and the smile that lit up Z’s face told Ryan that Z had gotten the reaction he’d wanted.

“What’s this?” Ryan asked, taking another smaller envelope out of the card.

“Open it.”

Ryan did. It was a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and scanned the page, smiling as excitement bloomed inside him. “You got me a year of racing?”

“Us,” Z clarified.

They’d been talking about racing their bikes on a professional track because it was something they longed to do, but with so much going on, it was always one of those things they never got around to.

“This way, I’ve already paid, so we have to take the time.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say.

“Can I open mine now?” Z asked, making Ryan laugh.

Ryan reached over to the side table and retrieved the gift he’d placed there earlier. He handed it to Z and held his breath.

Z WATCHED RT closely, noticing the shuttered look. It would be just like RT to be worried that Z wouldn’t like the gift. It didn’t matter what it was—hell, it could be a lopsided hand-knit scarf for all he cared—he would love it.

After tearing off the paper—being as messy as he possibly could—Z glanced down at the plain white box. He shook it, smiling at RT. It was heavy. Heavier than he’d thought it would be.

Definitely not a coffee maker. Box was too small.

Nor was it a mixer.

Could be silverware.

“Open it,” RT grumbled, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as though he was trying to refrain from grabbing the box back from him.

Z grinned, lifted the lid off the box, and peered down at…

A photo album.

But not just any photo album.

This one had a silver cover, with the words
Zachariah Tavoularis and Ryan Trexler
on the front, along with a photo of them from their wedding.

Z looked up at RT to see him staring back, eyes hooded as though he was waiting for the fallout.

“It’s beautiful,” Z told him.

“Open it,” RT instructed.

Z lifted the front cover and…

A sob tore from his throat when he saw the picture of his family—him, his mother, father, sister, brother. Z remembered the picture. He’d been a senior in high school, and they’d all gotten together to take a picture at Thanksgiving.

As he flipped through the pages, he saw many more pictures of him and his father, him and Reese, him and his mother and Jensyn. There were cards that Z had given his father on Father’s Day, images Z had drawn his father as a child. There were a few recipes that had been snapshot and added to the book as well as the one for the pecan pie that RT had gotten from Z’s brother.

“Where…?” Z couldn’t get the question out; he was too choked up.

“Keep going,” RT said, moving closer and gripping Z’s hand.

Z flipped the pages, smiling when he saw more pictures of him and Trace at Trace’s wedding. Some candid shots of him alone, some of his bike, some of him with Buddy, some with all of the Trexlers and the Kogans.

“I sent out an email to people in the office,” RT explained, “asking them to send me any photos they had of you. This is what I got back. I also talked to your mom and Reese and Jensyn. They gathered all that they could, and Buddy found a few things in your dad’s room.”

Z reached over and hugged RT, burying his face in RT’s neck, trying to hide the emotion that gripped him.

“I wanted to get you something that you’d remember for a long time. And when Buddy told me the story, I decided I’d get you something that you could remember forever. I hadn’t meant to fill it up completely, but that’s what happened, so…”

RT was cupping Z’s neck gently, holding him close, and Z managed to pull himself together.

Looking up, he met RT’s eyes.

“There’s something else in the box,” RT told him.

Z placed the photo album on the table, then lifted a sheet of tissue paper, revealing another box beneath it. He opened the end and pulled out a picture frame with the words
Tavoularis-Trexler.

RT leaned over and hit a button on the side, bringing the screen to life. There were more pictures that played on the screen.

“I figured we’d need something that would hold more than that. This way, we can upload them directly.”

Z laughed. It was that or cry.

RT had been so worried about what to get him, and somehow he’d figured out the most precious thing he could possibly get.

“I love you, Z,” RT said, curling his finger beneath Z’s chin. “And I want to make more memories with you.”

Z leaned forward, pressing his forehead to RT’s. “I love you, too. Thank you.”

“So, did I do well?” RT asked.

Z pulled back and grinned. “You did great. I only have one question…”

RT frowned.

“How do you expect to top this next Christmas?”

RT’s eyes narrowed, which made Z chuckle.

“Kidding. You’ve got all year to think about it, so I’m not at all worried.”

RT did not look at all happy about that.

Chapter Seven

“SMELLS FANTASTIC, MOM,” Ryan told his mother, hugging her when he and Z arrived at their house shortly after five on Christmas Day.

“Thanks, honey,” Emily said, hugging him back. “Where’s Z?”

“He’s talkin’ to Trace.” Ryan spared a look into the dining room. “Where’s Dad?”

Emily turned to face him, grinning. “He went to pick up Buddy from the nursing home.”

Ryan nodded. He was so glad that he’d been able to get Buddy a pass so he could come spend Christmas Day with them. Ryan and Z would take him back to the nursing home, but Ryan had wanted it to be a surprise, so he’d worked with his parents to help out.

“They’re on the way back. Should be here any minute.”

As though they’d heard her, the door to the garage opened, and Bryce stuck his head in. “Is the coast clear?”

Ryan laughed. “Bring him in, Dad.”

Bryce nodded, then disappeared.

“Hey, Mrs. T,” Z called from behind him, and Ryan turned instantly, forcing Z back into the other room, Ryan’s mother laughing from behind them.

“I … uh … need your help,” Ryan lied.

“With?” Z asked, looking around.

Ryan had nothing.

Thankfully, Z being Z, he made it dirty, which gave Ryan a brief opportunity to distract him. Or perhaps the other way around.

Z leaned in close to Ryan’s ear. “I can lend a hand. Just say the word.”

A bolt of heat soared through him, and Ryan had to remember where they were. It would not be cool to be caught making out with Z at his parents’ house. People were streaming in now, which meant they would definitely be noticed if Ryan gave in.

So, instead, he placed his palms on Z’s thick chest and forced him back a step. “Maybe later.”

Z’s eyes lit up and Ryan realized he shouldn’t have said that. Z was the eternal optimist. He saw the positive in everything. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Promise?” Z asked, placing his hands over Ryan’s, still planted on Z’s chest.

Ryan stared back at Z.

“Don’t think I won’t sneak you off and ravage you, Ryan Trexler. It’s what I do best. And when you say stuff like that…”

“I know.” Ryan chuckled. “You hear sex.”

“That, I def—”

Before Z could finish the sentence, a voice called from the kitchen.

“Where’re my boys?”

Z instantly stopped, eyes locking with Ryan’s. “Is that…?”

Ryan smiled. “Yes, it is. Now go say hello.”

Z didn’t move and neither did Ryan. They stood there, locked in one another’s gazes for a moment. Ryan waited to hear what Z would say, hoped he was as happy as Buddy was to be there.

“Ryan Trexler.” Z lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I’m not sure how you do it, but you make me love you more and more every single day.”

Ryan’s heart swelled in his chest. That had been exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“There they are,” Buddy called, making his way into the hallway where Ryan and Z stood.

“Buddy.” Ryan held out his hand to the older man. “So glad you could make it.”

Buddy looked at Ryan. “So, did you pull it off?”

“Looks like it,” he said, staring at Z, who seemed at a loss for words.

“Thanks for having me,” Buddy told Ryan. “Such an honor to be here.”

“Christmas wouldn’t be the same without you,” Ryan told him. And it was the truth. Buddy was family, plain and simple.

“Yeah,” Z confirmed. “What he said.”

“Food’s ready!” Colby called from the dining room.

“Come on,” Ryan urged Z. “Let’s go grab a seat.”

Z nodded, placing one huge hand gently on Buddy’s back, following close behind and taking Ryan’s hand in his and pulling him. Before they made it to the dining room, Z stopped abruptly, spinning around to face Ryan.

Looking up at him, he tried to hide his surprise.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get out of this,” Z mumbled softly.

“Out of what?”

Z leaned closer. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have sex with you in your childhood bedroom.”

Ryan laughed. “Z, my parents bought this place long after I moved out.”

Z considered that for a moment, then added, “We’ll pretend,” right before he spun on his heel and disappeared.

Ryan covered his laugh with a cough, ignoring the looks that his brothers sent his way.

AFTER DINNER—OF which Z ate more than his fair share—everyone retired to the living room. Emily and Bryce had brought in more seating so that there would be enough. There were a lot of people there, no doubt about it, but they’d had plenty of food left over, which meant Lilah would likely be packing leftovers in to-go containers. Z fully intended to grab some before they left.

And now, as everyone sat in the living room and chatted about dinner, the gifts they’d received, the gifts they’d given, the reactions from the people they loved when they’d opened their presents, Z settled in and watched.

Although he wished his mother and father and his brother and sister were there, this was nice. The Trexlers and the Kogans had become a huge part of his life over the years, having welcomed him into the fold when he’d first come on board over a decade ago.

Not that he’d ever thought he’d have the pleasure of being able to call Emily and Bryce his in-laws. He’d been best friends with Trace for years, been in love (albeit secretly) with RT for quite a while, as well, but still, this was better than he’d expected.

Z looked up when Casper cleared his throat.

“I know y’all are waiting patiently to find out what we’re doin’,” Casper explained. “And this year, Shelby was the one who got to pick the game.”

At that moment, Trace carried in an easel and a huge drawing pad, placing it at the front of the room.

“We’re gonna split up into two teams,” Shelby explained, grabbing the pen from Trace. “And I’ve already picked the teams.” Turning toward the paper, she began writing the names as she called them out. “RT, Z, Trace, Marissa, Dominic, Conner, Buddy, Lilah, Elizabeth, Casper, Frank, Evan, and Hunter. The other team: Me, Emily, Bryce, Austin, Clay, Kira, Stephanie, TJ, Colby, Tanner, Courtney, and Max.”

“What’re we playin’?” Austin inquired while Shelby continued to write all the names out, looking around as though it wasn’t obvious.

“Christmas carol charades,” Shelby announced proudly, capping the pen and placing it on the table. She then grabbed a bucket and proceeded to carry it around, holding it out for people from each team to pick from.

When she came over to him, Z smiled. “You know my team’s gonna win this, right? Then you’ll have to crown me the king of Christmas.”

Shelby laughed, her light gray eyes twinkling. “It’s on,” she challenged.

Turning to face Conner, Z asked, “You up for this, Daddy-o?”

Conner smiled and Shelby laughed at her father. “I’m not sure my dad even knows a Christmas carol.”

Conner growled, grinning at his daughter. “You’d be surprised what I know, kiddo.”

Shelby moved on to the other team, allowing them to pick three slips of paper from the bucket. When she was finished, she returned to the side of the room where her group had gathered and Z turned to his.

“Who’s gonna go first for us?” he asked, looking at his team.

“We’ve nominated you for that,” RT told him.

Of course they had.

“Smart people. I like it.” Z got to his feet and took one of the slips of paper that they’d placed on the end table near them. He studied it closely.

“Okay, Z, your team goes first,” Shelby called out. “Remember, no words allowed. And you have two minutes.”

Ah, so that would add a bit of a challenge.

Z turned to face his team, then looked at the slip of paper in his hand before crumpling it and shoving it in his pocket.

Standing at the front of the room, Z held out six fingers.

“Six words,” someone shouted.

Z held up one finger, then touched his ear.

“Sounds like. First word sounds like,” Marissa squealed cheerfully, as though she’d solved the puzzle already.

Z smiled and pointed to his eye.

“I.”

He nodded, then pretended to saw something.

“Saw.”

He nodded, then pretended to rock a baby.

“Rocking.”

“Uh … cradle.”

Z shook his head, repeated the motion.

“Arms.”

Z frowned. Were they even thinking about Christmas carols?

When they didn’t guess, he cut his hand as though to change. Then he pretended to kiss the air.

“Kiss!” Marissa yelled.

Z nodded.

“I saw kisses,” Frank called out.

Z shook his head.

“I saw … rock … kiss…” Lilah was working it out.

Z pretended to grab his belly.

“I saw rock and belly,” RT said.

Z frowned at his husband. Really?

Z repeated all of the movements in order.

“I … saw … rocking … kissing … belly.”

Conner jumped to his feet. “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”

Z clapped his hands. “Yes!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from their side of the room.

Z turned to Shelby and mimicked placing a crown on his head. She laughed at him, as he’d hoped.

RT pulled Z down onto the couch beside him. “I’m not sure I’ll get that image outta my head.”

Z leaned in and lowered his voice so no one else could hear. “Well, I’ve got another image I’ll gladly put there. It involves my mouth and your—”

RT slammed his hand over Z’s mouth, his eyes wide.

Z smirked behind his hand.

“Our turn,” Kira announced, standing up and moving to the front of the room.

Z sat back and watched.

Kira held up seven fingers.

“Seven words,” her team called out.

Kira nodded, then looked around the room. She ran over to Marissa, placed her hands on Marissa’s belly, then ran back and pointed at Elizabeth and Emily.

“Grandma!” someone called out.

Kira laughed, nodded, then moved back to the front of the room.

“Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer!”

Well, that was totally not fair.

And now, it was on.