Guarding January (23 page)

“Did you see the pool yet?”

“No. I came down, started the fire, and fell right back to sleep.”

Chuckling, Rye nuzzled his cheek. “It’s just like the one back home. So we can swim.”

“Oh yeah? I love swimming.”

“I know.” Rye pointed to his hot chocolate. “I also know you love those silly little marshmallows.”

“I do. I know they’re goofy, but they make me happy.”

“And that makes me happy.”

“It’s good.” Jeff hummed and sipped, the liquid heating him.

“Yeah.” Rye leaned in and licked his lower lip. “It’s really good.”

“Is it going to snow again?” He’d never lived anywhere with snow.

“It’ll snow a lot while we’re here. I meant it about teaching you to ski. And snowboard and making snowmen and shit.” Rye grinned and pressed closer. “Of course, we’ll be snowed in a lot.”

“We’ll have enough food for you?”

“Oh, we’ll keep an eye on the weather, make sure we go in and get supplies before we get snowed in.”

“Okay. I trust you.” He wasn’t worried. He couldn’t use if he was trapped in the snow.

“I know you do.” Rye rubbed against him, taking the hot chocolate from his fingers and setting it on the coffee table. “I have your best interests at heart.”

Jeff knew that. He believed it.

“There’s a place in Denver I trust to get your piercings done.” Rye tweaked one of his nipples. “We’ll get these done at the same time.”

“We will? I….” He’d loved getting the first piercings. Loved it.

“Something new for us.”

He pondered the idea of new rings and caught himself humming.

Rye smiled, traced Jeff’s lips with one finger. “You like the idea.”

“I liked the rings. I used to like them, I mean.”

“You keep trying to make like you aren’t kinky anymore, and I have to admit, I’m not entirely buying it.”

“I’m not.” He didn’t want to talk about it.

Rye shook his head. “Liar.”

He shrugged. Maybe he was kinky. Maybe he wasn’t.

“Are you worried about my reaction if you admit it?”

“That was another life. Hell, that was a lot of lives ago. That person isn’t alive anymore.”

“No, but you are. And it’s safe to want things, baby.”

“I think I’m just going to be boring right now.”

“As long as you’re not sleeping your life away.”

He didn’t answer. He hadn’t decided yet.

Rye bit at Jeff’s right nipple, teeth sharp.

“Hey!” He jerked, almost losing his seat.

Lapping and sucking, Rye soothed the hurt. Jeff’s nipple ached, burned a little. Then Rye blew, the wet making his nipple cold. Jeff shivered, his skin seeming to tighten up. Lord, Rye made him feel things.

“I never got to reciprocate earlier.” Rye moved to his other nipple, licking it with long drags of his tongue.

“I was sleepy.”

Sucking in his nipple, Rye tugged on it.

Jeff arched, eyelids going heavy, but he wasn’t sleepy now. Rye’s teeth threatened, and then bit, but not as sharply as they had his other nipple. Or maybe he’d just been waiting for it this time. It still felt like electricity shot through him.

Humming, Rye increased the sensation. Jeff swore his nipples and cock were attached when Rye did that. His lips opened, and he panted. The burn was crazy, perfect.

Rye looked up, eyes meeting his, full of heat and need. He held the gaze, breath coming faster, heart rate speeding. Rye very deliberately leaned in, teeth wrapping around his nipple and then pressing into his flesh in another bite.

“Oh sweet fuck.” He was going to come.

The bite turned back into suction, rougher this time, and each pull of Rye’s mouth landed right in his balls. He wanted to jack himself off, but on the other hand, he didn’t. Kissing his skin, Rye slowly moved down his chest toward his belly.

“No. No, please. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping, baby.”

“No. No, Rye. My nipples. Please.”

Rye smiled and kissed his way back up to the right nipple, beginning to gnaw on it. Jeff arched and started rubbing, rocking against Rye.

“Definitely getting you nipple rings.”

“Don’t stop.”

Rye licked. Twice. “Gonna tug and twist them.”

“Rye!” He was going to scream.

Rye bit at just the tip. Jeff shot so hard his balls hurt, the world spun.

“Just from your nips. Oh, baby. So hot.”

He nodded, head bobbing lazily on his shoulders. Rye shifted away and then came back with some Kleenex and wiped him clean. Jeff snuggled in, humming as he breathed against Rye’s skin.

“That was sexy, baby. You are sexy.” Rye’s fingers slid on his skin, stroking idly.

“Can we have something to eat? Maybe some cheese?”

“Hungry. I like that. You want a cheese sandwich or cheese and crackers? Some hummus?”

“Cheese and crackers. Are there grapes?”

“Uh-huh.” Rye stood, stretched.

Jeff grabbed the mugs and followed along, knees trembling. Rye nuzzled him, then sat him at the kitchen table, the chairs more comfortable than they looked. He curled into the chair and pulled his legs up under his chin. Rye put together a tray: cheese and crackers, grapes and strawberries.

“You’re good at that. You could be a caterer.” A giant bodyguard caterer.

Chuckling, Rye began putting together a pair of smoothies. “Me? A caterer? I’m only interested in feeding you.”

“You could. You make plates nice.”

“I don’t think I’d enjoy having to make a lot of them, though.”

“No?” Jeff couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to do. Would he go back on tour? What would he do without Roach and Brandy? If he didn’t, would Rye leave?

“I’ll put it on the list of things I can do, though.” It was quiet while Rye buzzed up the smoothies. Then they were added to the tray. “Okay. You want to eat by the fire? Oh! I bought the stuff we need for s’mores.” Rye went back to the cupboards.

“I’ll never eat this much.” Rye was so excited, though.

“It’s all nibble-as-you-go food—you can take as much time as you need eating.” Rye added a bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and a chocolate bar to the tray, along with skewers.

“I’ll get the smoothies.” Jeff sipped. Raspberry. It was brighter than the strawberry, a little tarter. Yum.

Rye leaned over and sucked on the straw of one. “They’re good. The chair by the fire?”

“Yeah. It’s big enough for two.”

Rye put the tray down on the little table next to the chair, then sat, hands reaching for him. Jeff sat, relaxed, stupidly happy for the time being.

They took turns feeding each other. Little bits of cheese, a bite of cracker. Then a kiss, followed by the bright sweetness of some grapes. It was the best way to eat. Rye ate way more than he did, but that was okay, Rye was a giant. They finished most of the crackers and all the cheese.

Then Rye demonstrated the s’mores. “You cook the marshmallow over the fire. But first you need to get the graham crackers and the chocolate ready for the hot sugar.”

“My mom made them in the microwave.”

“They taste better over an open flame.” Rye looked at him sideways. “You miss her? I mean, I know she hates what you do—did—but do you miss her from before that became a factor?”

“No. I don’t miss anyone.” Except Jim. And he would miss Roach, but Jim…. Jim was supposed to be better than him.

“I would miss you if I didn’t get to see you anymore. Desperately.”

“Do you think you’ll get another job?”

“Are you firing me?”

“Never.”

“Then I don’t have to worry about whether or not I need another job.”

“Oh, good.” He didn’t point out that Donna was Rye’s boss, not him. He didn’t care. He needed Rye to stay.

Rye gave him a look. “Can I tell you something? I’m not leaving you, job or no.”

“Promise? Because… I love you, really.”

Rye stared at him for a long moment, then put Jeff on his feet. Before he could say anything, Rye was down on one knee in front of him. “Will you marry me?”

“Rye?” Oh. Oh, man.

“I love you, and I want to be with you forever. So will you marry me?”

Jeff nodded. Someone wanted to marry him. Someone he loved too. “You mean it? Like for real?”

“I don’t make shit up, baby, you know that. Come on. Don’t leave me hanging here.”

“Yes. Yes, love. Yes. I will.”

Rye got up, lifting him up off the ground and kissing him.

Whoa. He was engaged.

Rye squeezed him. “I love you.”

“You asked me to marry you.”

“And you said yes.”

“I did.”

Rye grinned at him. “I bet they have jewelry shops in town.”

“Do I get a ring?” He liked that idea.

“You do. Something unique. We could go down to city hall too. Investigate getting a license.” Rye carried him upstairs.

“Here it’ll be a civil union.”

“You want to go somewhere that it can be a marriage?”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Tonight we’re busy.”

They got to the bedroom, and Rye sat on the bed. Jeff settled into Rye’s lap, offering him a kiss.

“Mmm.” Rye was smiling again when their lips parted. “My husband-to-be.”

“I’ve never been a husband before.”

“Me neither, baby.” Leaning back, Rye brought him down onto his favorite mattress ever.

They could figure it out, together. That sounded pretty damn good.

W
ELL
,
GOING
ring shopping was out.

The snow was coming down like crazy, big flakes blown around by the wind. It didn’t mean the day was a total wash, though.

“Hey, baby. We should go play in the snow.”

Jeff was curled in a chair, staring at the snow, fascinated. “Huh?”

“We have snow pants and stuff. Let’s go out and play.”

“Snow pants?”

“To keep your lower half dry and warm.” Rye went to their bags and started digging through them.

“You’re silly.” Still, Jeff was fascinated.

“Are you kidding? We could build a snowman. We could have a snowball fight. Hell, we can go sledding—I’m pretty sure there’s a sled here somewhere.”

“Is there enough snow for sledding?”

“I don’t know. It’s been at it a while. We’ll have to see, huh?” He found the winter gear and tossed the boots toward the door, the snow pants and jacket in Jeff’s direction.

“Seriously? We’re going out in it?” That was a charming, excited little smile.

“Yes, seriously. You need help getting your gear on?”

“I guess. I mean, they’re pants….”

“I usually prefer getting into your pants,” Rye teased.

“They’re blue.”

How long had it been since Jeff wore colors? “Yep. And the jacket is crazy multicolored.” It was a snowboarder jacket actually, but he thought the colors would suit his baby.

“It’s pretty. You won’t lose me, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, a white outfit would be a mistake.”

His own pants were red, and his jacket was just as colorful. He had mittens and hats and scarves too. There was a lot of paraphernalia.

“Is all this necessary?”

“Baby, snow is cold, and we’re going to be out in it for a while.” And his lover had zero reserves. No fat, no padding. Rye got his pants, boots, and jacket on before moving to help Jeff sort everything out.

“This is heavy.” Jeff took a step. “And it squeaks.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll get used to it.” He hoped. He put on Jeff’s scarf and handed over the mitts. “Okay, we’re ready.”

They headed out, and Jeff looked up to the flakes, eyes lit up. “It’s beautiful!”

“Yeah, it is.” Rye raised his own head to the sky, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. He hadn’t been sure if Mr. I Hate The Outdoors would come out, but the snow seemed to fascinate Jeff, making him spin and wander. Maybe the lack of sunshine helped. He trailed Jeff for a bit, then bent and grabbed a handful of snow. It packed easily, and he tossed the snowball at Jeff’s back.

Jeff stepped forward, then spun around. “You threw snow at me!”

“Not just snow.” He bent and gathered more snow, again packing it loosely before tossing it at Jeff.

Jeff’s eyes went wide, and then a huge handful got scooped up. Rye put his hands on his hips, daring Jeff to throw the snowball—time to see how his baby’s aim was. It hit him right in the chin, the icy puffball just exploding.

Gasping, he grabbed another handful himself and tossed it. Jeff twisted, and it missed him; the next one hit the center of his chest. Snickering, Rye gathered more snow, moving a few steps to the left as he lobbed his missile at Jeff, catching him on the shoulder.

“Meanie bodyguard!” Jeff moved quickly, zipping around him, and pegging him in the back of the head.

“You’re the one making the head shots!” And taking it far more seriously than he’d expected; he needed to start moving. Running off away from the house, Rye grabbed and tossed a couple of balls in quick succession.

Jeff laughed hard, following until he slipped, landing on his knees.

“You okay?” He jogged over to Jeff.

“Yeah. Yeah, just tripped.” Jeff let him help him up, and Rye half expected a face full of snow but got a kiss instead.

Grinning, he kissed Jeff back. There was a lovely glow on Jeff’s cheeks, his lover’s lips cold. “Love you. This is…. It’s magic, Rye.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? You want to make snow angels next?”

“We have to take pictures!”

“Yeah, yeah. You want me to go get my phone, or should we do that next time?”

“We need the first ones!” The excited happiness in Jeff’s voice made Rye’s mouth dry.

“You got it. I’ll be back in a second.” Rye trotted back to the house, grabbed his phone, then rejoined his baby.

“So, we just fall back?”

“Yep. And then wave your arms and legs up and down.”

“Okay. Make sure you get it.” Jeff fell back, making angels. God, the cuteness.

Rye took a few pictures, then held his hand out for Jeff’s. “I’ll pull you up, so you don’t ruin it.” Jeff reached for him, looking so happy. He pulled Jeff up, lifting him out of his snow angel impression. “Look!” He snapped some more pictures.