Brainy and the Beast (25 page)

His arms came out from under the heavy down, and he rubbed his eyes with a yawn. “Oh. Good.” He eased back under the covers, turning on his side, his eyes blinking slowly.

I leaned over the bed to snap my fingers in his face. Not that he noticed, since he’d closed his eyes once again. “Hey. Dr. Love.
What
are you doing here?” I’d just seen him the night before last, and we’d parted planning to see each other tomorrow morning. Uh. This morning. Whatever.

“’S nice here. Nice bed.”

I snorted, easing back between the sheets. Cursing because I’d left the light on, I got out of bed again to smack the switch down, then slid into bed once more. “Yeah. I know. But what are you doing in it?”

“Mike.” Henry’s breath slowed down in the pattern of sleep.

“Mike? My dad?” I frowned. “My dad sent you up here? Told you to sleep in my bed? But what are you even doing here tonight?”

Henry’s arm came across my middle the way it usually did when we slept together. His head came to rest near my shoulder, and his breath was warm on my skin.

“Damn it, Henry.” I gave up, turning to face him and snuggling close. His body gave off a lot of heat, and I’d already become addicted to it. Him. Whatever. I burrowed below his chin and made sure the covers were well over the top of us. The reason he was here instead of in his own house would have to wait until the morning. Right then, it was too damned tempting to just accept and enjoy.

* * * *

Sounds from downstairs eventually intruded, waking me just before eight o’clock. The drapes on my windows were still drawn, I was happy to see, but I could hear pots and pans clanking. And now that I was awake, I could most definitely smell coffee and bacon—two of the scents guaranteed to bring a man to his knees.

I stumbled to the shower and cleaned up, then dressed in a warm brown turtleneck and jeans. I stuffed my feet into my sheepskin slippers, the cushy shearling warming my toes right up. A glance out the windows showed me it was still snowing, but it did appear as though the pace of the blizzard had slowed. I blew out a breath. More plowing to do.

I’d at least have to run the truck around just our driveways today. I could ignore the shop for now; time enough to get that done tomorrow.

I trotted down the stairs, smiling reluctantly when I heard Christmas carols playing on the satellite radio. “Really, guys? Christmas already?”

“I know, right?” Grant groaned from his spot at the breakfast bar. He was stirring something—yellow?—in a big bowl, but he didn’t look unhappy to have been put to work.

My dad glanced over from his place at the kitchen table. He was mixing something in a ceramic dish, and he looked truly happy for the first time in a long while. “You know your mom always insisted on Christmas music starting on Thanksgiving.” He smirked as he gazed knowingly toward the sink, where Henry stood. “And good morning, sleepyhead.”

My lover had turned to face me when I came in, and I could see he was holding the turkey upright in the sink with one hand. “Good morning.” His voice was low and soft.

I cleared my throat, extremely conscious of the two sets of curious eyes watching us. “Hey.” I frowned slightly. “Need some help?” My fingers were in my back pockets, and I had to resist the urge to go over and kiss Henry silly. Me. Kiss someone—anyone—silly. In front of my dad. Sure. Uh-huh.

“Um. Yes. Sure.” Henry didn’t sound any more confident than I felt. “I’m, um, well, I’m getting the bird ready. Your father, um, Mike, is putting together the green bean casserole and”—Henry paused to dart a quick glance across the room—“Grant is mixing the cornbread.” He turned back to face the sink, studiously washing the skin of the turkey.

I moved my hands to my front pockets, not sure what to do at that moment. I could feel my dad’s gaze on me, and I reluctantly looked in his direction. I was immediately sorry I’d done so, since he was making eyes in Henry’s direction and jerking his head toward the genius.
Go on
, he mouthed silently.

Real subtle. I rolled my eyes, then spotted Grant watching me with a “really?” look on his face.
Christ
. “Um, do the dogs need to go out?” Someone please say yes.

“They just went out.” That was Grant. Ever so helpful.

“But I bet they’d like to go play in the snow again.” Big Mike jumped in, waving to Grant. “Go let the dogs out, boy. Play with them for a little bit.”

My nephew grimaced halfheartedly but obligingly got up, whistling for the mutts. As he disappeared into the mudroom, my dad pushed back from the table. “Henry, I’m going to go call my wife’s sister. It’s a tradition on Thanksgiving, so I’ll probably be a few minutes, okay?”

As mortified as I was at the thought that my dad was trying to help my sex life, I had to smile at his ham-handed way of announcing that he’d be disappearing for a while. “Tell Aunt Marge I said hi, Dad,” I muttered resignedly.

Henry was still fussing with the damned turkey, so I walked up to him and slid my arms around his middle. I sent one hand up, rubbing over his chest, and the other down to cup his package. “Hey, you.”

“Nicholas!” He shoved my lower hand away. “Your father and nephew are here,” he whispered fiercely.

Now able to relax and laugh at the silliness of family dynamics, I propped my chin on his shoulder and brought my hand back to grip him. “Take it easy. Big Mike’s cleared the room for us.” I tilted my head to listen. “Grant’s already outside.” Knowing we really were now alone, I cupped and caressed the gorgeous hardness that was starting to grow. “Mmm. You may have scared the shit out of me last night, but I have to say that finding you in my bed was a
very
nice surprise.”

Henry’s breath stuttered, and he leaned back against me for a brief moment before jolting forward. “God, you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“What in the heck were you doing there, anyway? I thought you were coming over this morning.” Something was shaping up quite well under Henry’s khakis.

Henry eased the bird into a waiting roasting pan, then quickly washed his hands. He turned to face me. That put our packages in sweet proximity to each other. “Your father called me last night. He was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make it over here this morning with the blizzard. The county apparently put out a warning that they’re having trouble keeping the roads clear.”

“Yeah. I heard that while I was plowing last night.”

“Anyway. I think he was worried that this dinner wouldn’t happen if I got snowed in at my house. And I was more than happy to come over. I actually made the dressing yesterday. Do you know that it tastes better if you make it a day ahead of time?” He was sporting the most adorable expression.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” I rubbed my fingers down my face, covering a smile. Henry was so earnest. “You don’t think my dad was trying to sell you something?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

I was kind of afraid to burst his bubble. “I think he was worried he wouldn’t get his holiday turkey.” I winced in sympathy.

“But… He even showed me your mother’s recipe book, told me what her favorites were. I’m going to make this one that she especially liked. It’s some kind of a bread pudding, I think.”

I chuckled softly. “My mother could make about three things really well. Um, maybe a few more than that,” I allowed. “But let me tell you, Thanksgiving dinner was not on that list.”

Henry appeared crestfallen. “Well, then why did he want me to recreate her recipes? Isn’t it your family’s tradition?”

“Hey, she tried. There were lots of good times.” Shaking my head at some of the memories, I touched his cheek. His skin was like suede against the backs of my fingers. “Easy, Doc. Yes, it’s been our tradition for as long as I can remember. The thing is, it pretty much tasted okay but not great. My dad probably does want to try to make the whole day like it used to be. But, right now? If I had to guess, I’d say he’s making sure you want to hang around for a while.”

Henry rested his butt against the sink. “Oh.”

“Kind of like I do.”

“
Oh
.” Glancing from side to side, then meeting my gaze, Henry’s expression shifted from confused to crafty. “Ah. So. I needn’t have been concerned about doing…this?” He cupped my rear end and pulled me in tight.

“I don’t think so.” I obligingly moved closer.

“Or this?” He nudged my foot to the side and lifted me onto my toes.

My weight pushed our dicks together. “Uhnn. Uh-huh.” I set my hands on the edge of the sink, framing him.

The fingers of his right hand slid into my waistband, dipping down to my crease. “How about this?”

“Oh. God. Yeah. I mean, no. Go right ahead.”

When he brought his hand up to suck his middle finger to the third knuckle, I groaned softly. He pushed it back into my jeans, and I shivered as that wet digit slid between my cheeks. I started to pant softly. “Yeah. Yeah, Doc. Do it.”

“Gladly.” He pushed inside me, and the absolute naughtiness of it had my heart pounding. My dad could walk back into the kitchen at any moment.

I rode his finger, grinding my dick into his, and was rewarded by his soft groan. He moved forward enough for our lips to meet, and I plunged my tongue into his mouth. Henry began sucking, and I started to echo the rhythm of that with my hips. Wow.

Just as I shoved my fingers into his hair, gripping his head with both hands, one of the returning dogs jumped at me, paws landing on my back and almost knocking both of us over. “Shit!” I cursed rawly as I staggered to the side. Henry yanked his hand out of my pants fast enough so that we both didn’t go down in a tangle, and he grabbed the sink to stay upright.

“Goddamn it, Coke!” I glared at the unrepentant mutt, who wiggled and whined as he stared up at me.

“Those dogs of yours are a menace. You know that, right?” Henry was breathless, his voice a little hoarse. He was adjusting himself as I looked back at him.

I ran my fingers through my hair, now trying not to laugh at us both. “I was about one second from jumping you, so it was probably a good thing that this fur ball stopped us.”

“Ew. Dudes.” Grant had apparently followed the dogs in. I hadn’t even noticed him. He stood in the mudroom doorway. “That could shock me for life, you know.”

Since his mouth was crooked in a tiny grin, I was assuming he hadn’t seen too much—or been bothered by it if he had. I felt a sense of relief, since I still hadn’t been quite convinced he wasn’t somewhat homophobic. “You’ll get used to it, kid.”

Henry busied himself scrubbing his hands, and I gave one last look at his tight ass before I reluctantly stepped away from temptation. “I’d better go let my dad know he can come back in the kitchen.” I stopped to run a hand over Grant’s shock of hair. “Thanks for taking the dogs out.”

My nephew shrugged, looking uncomfortable for a second. Then he gave me a provoking look. “Am I going to have to go outside every time he comes over?” It was kind of a smart remark, but since Grant was still sporting that crooked grin, I decided to accept it in the spirit I hoped it was intended.

“Maybe. I guess it depends on how much snow is out there.” I grinned back at him, dodging the fist he halfheartedly aimed at my bicep. “Easy, kid. I’m getting back in the swing of things, so it won’t take much for me to take you down.”

Hah. Big words for a guy who’d been laid flat on his back by Gyosa not too long ago.

Grant was probably remembering that as he gave me a disbelieving look. “Dude. You’re seriously out of practice.”

I stopped with one hand on the doorway jamb. “Yeah. I know. I may have to start taking lessons with you.” Oh. Wait. I looked at Henry. “Um. Maybe you could come and watch. To, you know, just make sure that…”

Busy stuffing the bird, Henry sent me a knowing glance over his shoulder. “That you and Gyosa don’t get too familiar?”

“Um, yeah. Well, I guess.” I didn’t want a repeat of last week’s snarkiness.

“Dudes. It’s not a
dating
service. It’s
tae kwon do
.”

Even Henry had to chuckle at the emphasis Grant put in his comment. I shook my head. “Just wait until you’ve got some girl on your radar. We’ll see who’s so smart then.”

When the kid blushed bright red, I suddenly remembered little Shawn Ginsburg. Hmm.

* * * *

Our dinner turned out to be really nice. I did have to admit that my dad’s insistence on doing up the whole day was a good one. He’d ended up inviting the two neighbors whose driveways I took care of, and that made it even more fun. The old guy, Rudy Steinhoff, was kind of lonely, I think, so it was good to see him smiling and having a good time. Melissa Glover, the one whose asshole husband had taken off, brought a plate of brownies for dessert, and Grant and I fought to see who could eat the most of those.

After dinner, Grant settled with Melissa’s three kids in front of the Wii. I sent my dad, Rudy, and Melissa to relax with coffee in the den, and Henry and I cleaned up.

“That was some dinner. You’ve definitely got the touch when it comes to cooking.” I toweled a wineglass dry, then stuck it up on a shelf.

“Only when it comes to cooking?”

I grunted a laugh. “Okay. Not just cooking.” I snapped the towel at his ass, smirking when he jumped. “Maybe some other stuff too.”

“I think I’ve shown you some other stuff, haven’t I?” Henry could look so superior when he wanted, so damned know-it-all. Turned me on.

“Oh, yeah, Doc.” I moved close and snuck a kiss. Henry caught me before I could step away, and I found myself pushed against the counter. The laminate dug into my lower back as Henry pressed insistently against my front. He shoved his tongue down my throat, and I groaned low and long. With my arms wrapped around him, I kissed him back desperately, eating at his mouth.

Breath ragged, Henry rested his brow against mine. “Good God, Nicholas. You make me crazy. I’ve never been like this before.”

The blood was rushing through my veins, and my skin felt hot. “Me too. I mean, not me either. Uh.” Jesus, I couldn’t even talk straight.

Chuckling, fingers coming up to trace the wetness on my lips, Henry shook his head. “I’m even beginning to understand your incoherent babblings. That almost frightens me.”