A Touch of Mistletoe (24 page)

Hux unbuttoned his faded umber jacket, dropped it on the chair he'd never sat in, and then removed his glasses and set them on the fireplace mantle. "He said that he had best not see my face for at least two days, that he is quite capable of tending to himself. Chief Potsworth assured me he would keep Oz company. I think the lawsuit Oz is planning helps, too."

Kingston huffed a soft laugh. "Yes, I would imagine. I hope he leaves Elmhurst penniless."

"Oh, he will," Hux replied, then closed the space between them, splayed his hands on Kingston's chest, leaned up, and kissed him.

And what a kiss it was. Kingston did not know if it was simply that they were kissing outside of Acacia House, in the middle of the day and with no barriers or limits between them, or that Hux had been holding back in Acacia and now surrendered it all, but the kiss left Kingston breathless, head spinning. His fingers skated impatiently over Hux's body, wanting the damnable clothes out of the way, needing skin.

Hux drew back slowly, dragging his tongue across Kingston's mouth. "I never dared hope I would see you outside of Acacia. I still fear I will wake up."

"You feel far too real to be something as fleeting as a dream," Kingston replied and dragged him into another wet, hungry kiss, finally getting his fingers up under that damnable shirt. Releasing Hux's delectable lips, Kingston began mouthing and sucking at his perfect skin, enjoying the scent and taste of roses and a hint of sweat.

Hux shivered in his arms, nails scratching the back of Kingston's neck. Dragging himself away with a groan, Kingston tugged him toward the bedroom, pausing only to light a lamp before turning around and making quick work of their clothes. "You are breathtaking."

"Flattery will get you many, many things," Hux said with a smile. The lamplight bathed his pale skin with flickering gold, showed off the light muscle of a man who spent his days running errands and shadowing his employer. His hands, when he dragged them down Kingston's chest, had the familiar roughness of callouses acquired from hours of working at a desk. There were smudges of blue and red ink on his fingers, and beneath the fine cologne was the scent of paper and sealing wax.

Kingston spread Hux out on the bed, then withdrew long enough to fetch a bottle of thick, shimmery, clear liquid from his bureau. Climbing onto the bed, he pulled the stopper from the bottle and slicked one hand, trailed his fingers down Hux's chest and stomach, combed through the soft thatch of pale curls crowning his cock, then wrapped his fingers around it.

Hux groaned, head falling back, hips jerking, and hands fisting in the sheets. "What is that? It tingles in the most evil way."

"I'm a potionmaker," Kingston said with a chuckle. "What is the point if I cannot occasionally use my skills to have a bit of fun?" He slicked the fingers of his other hand and slid them back, teasing at Hux's heavy sack, eliciting a hard, full body shudder and the prettiest moan he'd ever heard. The broken whimper that followed when he gently pushed one finger into Hux's body was even better.

Hux slowly dragged his eyes open. They were hot and bright, pupils wide, expression faintly dazed. "You never brought this to Acacia House."

"I almost did, on several occasions, but caution always won out."

"You should sell it to Acacia," Hux replied, but whatever else he'd meant to say was lost as Kingston added a second finger to the first, other hand stroking hard at Hux's cock. "King—"

Kingston leaned down to kiss him hard as he came, spilling warm over Kingston's hand, fingers gripping his arms not quite painfully tight, kisses sloppy as he shuddered through his release. "You really are quite lovely."

"You are hardly a chore to look upon yourself, sir," Hux said with a smile. His face was flushed, hair damp with sweat, and his mouth was wet, swollen, well-used. The man was more addictive than a potion that was three parts poppy.

Squirming out from under him, Hux shifted them so Kingston sat with his back to the headboard, cushioned by his two old, nearly-flat pillows. Kingston started to speak, but the thoughts scattered as Hux's mouth dropped over his cock. His hair had come loose, the ribbon lost among the sheets. He sucked Kingston's cock like there was nothing else he would rather do. His tongue dragged and rubbed, throat working as he pulled Kingston deep, saliva and pre-cum dribbling from the corners of his mouth to paint his chin. If it tired him at all, there was no sign of it. His eyes burned as he stared up at Kingston through his lashes, face flushed and gleaming with sweat, fingers tight where the clamped on Kingston's skin.

Kingston held on as long as he could, but it was impossible to last. He curled a hand into Hux's hair, moaned his name, then finally spilled down Hux's throat. When he finally calmed, he let go of Hux only to grab his arms and drag him up, gently kiss that well-used mouth. "I do not know how in the world I confined our relationship to Acacia House for so long." He rubbed a thumb over those red, swollen lips, pressed another kiss to the corner of Hux's mouth.

"I wish it had been happier circumstances that brought us together in daylight, but I am glad our paths crossed all the same," Hux said. Kingston shuffled them around so they lay stretched out on his bed, pulling Hux close, wrapping an arm around him, and nuzzling his hair. Hux lazily pet and stroked his skin. "The royal ice fair is in a couple of days. I do not suppose you want to accompany me? Lord Oswald is having a private supper for the household afterward and has said you must come—he insists. Though if you must remain here, I do not mind keeping you company."

"Eliza has spent the last two days away. She will not mind remaining so I can spend the day and night with you." His mouth quirked. "She is going to become a partner in the shop. That should give me free time I've never had before. I think we will need it, if we are to build something between a potionmaker and a secretary."

Hux smiled. "I think even if our time was still constrained, we would find a way to make it work. You seem to excel at surmounting obstacles, my dear."

"It's all in the components. One part good, two parts strong," Kingston replied and drew him into a lingering kiss.

About the Authors

J.K. Pendragon

J.K. Pendragon is a queer writer hailing from British Columbia, Canada. They have been writing and telling stories from a young age, and enjoy writing in a variety of different genres, mashing them together whenever possible. A social recluse at heart, J. likes peace and solitude, with the exception of attention from their doting boyfriend and cold disdain from their snot-bag of a cat. J. loves receiving messages and feedback, and you can reach them by email at
[email protected]
, or tweet them at
@JKPendragon
.

Talya Andor

Talya lives in the Pacific Northwest with her girlfriend and their girl-kitty who they believe to be cutest cat in the world, and is constantly balancing a busy slate of boylove stories to write with her day job, hobbies to upkeep, and nail polishes to collect. She has been writing fiction since elementary school and progressed to guy on guy erotica during college, honing her chops on fan fiction until original fiction lured her with its siren call. She loves writing and reading, routinely geeks out over gaming and movies, and watches far too many cooking shows.

You can find Talya at her website,
www.talya-andor.com
;  twitter,
@TalyaAndor
; or tumblr,
http://talya-andor.tumblr.com/
.

A.F. Henley

Henley was born with a full-blown passion for run-on sentences, a zealous indulgence in all words descriptive, and the endearing tendency to overuse punctuation. Since the early years Henley has been an enthusiastic writer, from the first few I-love-my-dog stories to the current leap into erotica.

A self-professed Google genius, Henley lives for the hours spent digging through the Internet for ‘research purposes’ which, more often than not, lead seven thousand miles away from first intentions but bring Henley to new discoveries and ideas that, once seeded, tend to flourish.

Henley has been proudly working with LT3 since 2012, and has been writing like mad ever since—an indentured servant to the belief that romance and true love can mend the most broken soul. Even when presented in prose.

Comments, kudos and signature card requests are happily received at
afhenley.com
.

E.E. Ottoman

E.E. Ottoman is a geek and a gentleman. Zie spends zier time mostly in libraries doing research, and sometimes, when there is no one else there, dancing in the aisles. E. has always adored speculative fiction, especially paperback fantasy and science fiction. Zie loves a good ghost story and thinks every story becomes automatically better if you add tentacles. Overall, though, zie just loves a story that is fun to read. E. is especially fond of writing and reading stories with geeky, queer people doing awesome and sexy things.

When not writing, E. loves cooking, knitting, cats, coffee, and looking dapper in menswear. Zie is actively trying to change the world (and maybe the past) one novel and work of history at a time.

You can follow E. on:

» Blogspot:
http://thisjourneywithoutamap.blogspot.com/

» LJ:
http://acosmistmachine.livejournal.com

» Twitter:
https://twitter.com/acosmistmachine

» Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/EeOttoman

Megan Derr

Megan is a long time resident of LGBTQ fiction, and keeps herself busy reading, writing, and publishing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she’s not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her cats, or watch movies. She loves to hear from readers, and can be found all over the internet.

maderr.com

maderr.tumblr.com

meganaderr.blogspot.com

facebook.com/meganaprilderr

[email protected]

@amasour