Sleigh Ride (Minnesota Christmas Book 2) (18 page)

It wasn’t anything more than Gabriel had expected—a few angry parents, many
concerned
ones, several people who simply felt the need to correct his misunderstanding. A few of those were on the board, which hadn’t surprised Gabriel either. Corrina backed him up there, and for the rest Gabriel handled the issue the same as any other. He corrected assumptions and ignorance patiently, gently turned prejudice inside out and handed out photocopies. Then he read to the children, helped people make the DVD player work in the media room, unjammed the public copier and replaced the toner in the printer.

But there had been a new wrinkle since
William’s Doll
. Now Gabriel was dating. When a patron made veiled references to unsuitable material, Gabriel thought of the things he let Arthur do to him at night. He wondered how much of the complaining about his story-time choices was code for discomfort over the fact that each library day had ended with burly, beautiful Arthur Anderson kissing Gabriel on the lips and looking at Gabriel like a lover. Because he
was
a lover.

It was hard for Gabriel to tell sometimes if his detractors seemed angrier because of this, or if Gabriel was shaming himself for them.

He hadn’t brought up the issue with Arthur, either, which he knew wasn’t wise, but he wasn’t ready to discuss it, because being with Arthur made him happy, and he didn’t want to let people’s prejudice get in the way. It was only when Arthur was away from him that he felt shame. So when they gathered up the bottle of wine and box of Corrina’s Christmas cookies they were bringing to dinner with Frankie and Marcus and Paul, Gabriel firmly shoved his sorrows under the rug and prepared to have a wonderful time.

Frankie and Marcus’s apartment was quite charming: it was an open-loft style with a great deal of exposed brick and an open floor plan. Much like Arthur’s cabin, everything except the bathroom and the bedroom were in this one room. Unlike the cabin, however, the appliances and cabinets had been updated to something quite modern.

Their hosts were in the kitchen area when they arrived, and Paul was on the sofa, flipping through a magazine. Frankie wore an apron and stirred a large pot, but Marcus took it over so Frankie could come hug them and kiss them both on the cheek.

“So good to see you. The chili is almost ready. Oh, that salad looks wonderful. And wine, how nice. We have some chilled—would you care for a glass, Gabriel? I know what Arthur wants, because Marcus had to run to Duluth for a case this morning. There’s a six-pack of Pack Sacker from Canal Park Brewery waiting for you in there.”

Gabriel told him yes, he’d love wine, and Arthur helped him out of his coat, hanging it on a peg by the door, laying his hat and gloves on the bench below. When Frankie brought their drinks, Gabriel sipped his, but Arthur took a heavy swallow. Gabriel was about to make a joke about how much Arthur liked the beer when he got a good look at his boyfriend’s face.

He was terrified.

Gabriel drew him closer to the coats, bending his head and speaking softly. “Hey—what’s wrong?”

Arthur was almost green, which with his coloring was frankly alarming. “I don’t want it to be weird. I’m worried this will go badly and Paul won’t hang out with us anymore. Or me. I don’t want to lose him.” He took another drink, as big as the first. “But I’m also worried it’ll go
too
well and you’ll be upset.”

“I’m not going to be upset.”

“I know.
I know.
But I can’t help it. I’m worried.”

Gabriel brushed a kiss at his hairline. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Then he let go of Arthur and went to the kitchen, smiling. “Marcus, you and Arthur go catch up with Paul. I’ll help Frankie finish up in here.”

Marcus blinked, nervous but caught. Frankie seemed ready to blow Gabriel in gratitude. As soon as Marcus and Arthur were settled on the couch across from Paul, Frankie pulled Gabriel into the pantry and hugged him. “Oh my God,
thank you
. It’s been all kinds of awkward in here. Paul’s visited since he moved out of the cabin, but not often and it’s never been the three of them together since August. Such
babies
.”

“If you think it’s a good idea, I could develop a headache and go home,” Gabriel offered.

Frankie swatted his arm. “You’re not going anywhere. Who else would finish setting my table?”

Gabriel enjoyed setting up the rest of the meal with Frankie. In addition to being a gracious and attentive host, Frankie was charming and fun to be around. His mannerisms and vocal affectations were unabashedly effeminate, but they weren’t affected in the way that always got on Gabriel’s nerves. Mostly Frankie seemed happy, to be himself, to be with Marcus.

They kept themselves busy in the kitchen up until dinner, even though the awkwardness in the living room only took a few minutes to evaporate into guffaws of laughter, Paul and Arthur talking over one another while Marcus grumbled at them. Frankie’s shoulders relaxed, murmuring about things finally being back to normal, and brightly called the other men to the table.

Marcus brought over the Dutch oven full of soup as Frankie refilled Gabriel’s glass. “This chili should be good. It’s the white one we made last winter, except Frankie played with it a little.”

“It will be better once it sits in the fridge a bit, but this will do.” Frankie took his seat next to Marcus, happy. “It’s so good to finally have you all for dinner. You’ll have to tell us all about the sleigh, Arthur—I hear it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Gabriel agreed. “It looks—and sounds—just like Santa’s sleigh should.” He took a bite of the chili and almost groaned. “Frankie, this is
amazing
.”

Frankie beamed at Paul. “I know Arthur’s been playing carpenter and fix-it man while the mill is closed. What have you been doing? We’ve barely seen you.”

Paul put down his spoon and wiped at his mouth, dabbing extra on his beard. “Watching a lot of TV, taking my mom to Duluth to go Christmas shopping. Though I admit I’m getting a little bored.”

Arthur snorted over his spoonful of soup. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re complaining about paperwork in the manager’s office.”

Paul sighed. “I’m thinking of not going back even if they do open up. I’m ready for something different.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair. “Oh yeah?” He stilled. “You’re not going to move, are you?”

Paul stared guiltily into his soup. “I thought about it. But it’s a pipe dream. I wouldn’t make it in Duluth any better than you did. I just…want a better life, you know?”

Arthur looked upset and guilty. Gabriel put a hand on his leg under the table as he spoke. “Paul, are you as handy with things as Arthur?”

“Hell, he’s ten times better.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh shit, you’re gonna start on that, aren’t you?”

“Start on what?” Paul asked.

Gabriel tweaked Arthur’s ear. “Yes, I’m going to start on it, because there’s the answer to when you told me you can’t do it by yourself, that you’d be lonely. You should start a fix-it business, and you should do it with Paul. How could you be lonely with Paul along?”

Though he still seemed dubious, Arthur glanced down the table at Paul. “He’s probably not interested in that sort of a thing.”

But Paul appeared interested—a little wary, like he sensed a trap, but Gabriel could tell he was open to the idea. “It could be fun. I mean, we’d fight all the time, but it’d still be fun.”

“Hell, fighting is half the fun.” Arthur’s hand found Gabriel’s under the table and squeezed. He glanced from Gabriel to Paul. “You’d really want to open a business with me?”

Paul shrugged, abashed. “Sure I would, what do you think? God, it’d be great. Not that I know anything about opening a shop.”

“
Well
,” Gabriel said, enjoying the moment very much, “it so happens I have several resources in the library for starting a small business, and I know for a fact there’s a grant from the state for service industries in remote rural areas. You might need to take some courses for licensing, and there are a few legal matters you need to clear up, but mostly you’ll find it’s easier than you think.”

“I wonder where you’ll
ever
find a lawyer,” Frankie said in a gently mocking singsong, and everyone laughed.

Arthur, in fact, beamed, slapping his leg. “How about that, Pauly? We were always supposed to be partners. Just not
domestic
partners.”

Paul rolled his eyes, but he smiled too. When Frankie rose to do the dishes, Gabriel offered to help, shooing the three friends into the living room to hatch their plans. In the kitchen, Frankie dragged Gabriel into the pantry to give him a big hug.

“Thank you so much. You’re amazing. I’m so glad you’re part of the family now.”

Gabriel felt like part of the family. He’d had a trying week at his job but was about to spend a wonderful weekend relaxing with his boyfriend and his friends. Frankie had tapped him for a run to Duluth to go shopping in the morning while the others went hunting, maybe grabbing lunch with Frankie’s mom and hitting a movie. Arthur made suggestive comments about how Gabriel could thank him for all the venison he’d be bringing home.

Yes, it was a family. And it was a good one. Gabriel could endure a little flashback to homophobia for that.

C
hapter Nineteen

S
aturday night after a lazy dinner of frozen pizza in the cabin where Arthur listened to Gabriel talk about how much fun he had in Duluth with Frankie, Arthur put on his leather.

Gabriel had dropped hints he wanted to see it all week, had eventually come out and said, “Come on, please, I want to see.”

“Patience,” Arthur had replied.

He played it up as a game of extended teasing, but the truth was that he was nervous, and he couldn’t articulate why even to himself. Something about donning his gear made him feel like this was the last barrier, the part where Gabriel might find Arthur wasn’t quite what he wanted. Arthur kept telling himself it wouldn’t matter if Gabriel couldn’t go this far.

Except the longer he avoided this last reveal of himself, the more he realized it mattered. Was his deepest kink going to draw them closer together or be something that kept them permanently slightly apart?

Once the dishes were done, Arthur sent Gabriel to the tub with a glass of wine and a book. As soon as he heard the now-familiar sounds of softly splashing water, he headed upstairs.

He wore his jeans, his chaps, his harness. He had sexier outfits, definitely, and he told himself he was breaking Gabriel in slowly, but the person he was truly babying was himself. Because he hadn’t only put on the leather. As he went downstairs, boots clunking heavily, chaps creaking, he felt his leather persona wrap around him, coming out to play.

He didn’t know what he was going to do if Gabriel saw this and didn’t want it.

Bracing himself, he opened the door to the bathroom and leaned against the frame.

Gabriel glanced at him, distractedly at first, then gasped and let his e-reader clatter to the cutting board, knocking over his wine. He didn’t right the glass, too busy staring at Arthur.

Arthur couldn’t read his lover’s reaction. Part of him wanted to cower, but he was wearing his leather, so he let his Dom take over, leering and raising an eyebrow. “You asked to see my leather. This is some of it.”

Gabriel flushed, his hand going to his chest as he looked Arthur up and down, gaze mostly landing on his chest. “Some? There’s more?”

“A vest instead of chaps. Leather armband, wrist cuffs. Leather jock. Though normally that’s not an item
I
wear.”

Gabriel’s blush deepened. Pushing the cutting board forward, he drew his knees to his chest. His gaze had stopped lingering on Arthur’s harness and was now focused on his groin. He said nothing though, and finally Arthur couldn’t wait anymore. He had to prompt.

“Well? You wanted to see it. What do you think?”

Behind his glasses, Gabriel’s eyes blinked, and he drew his pink bottom lip behind his teeth. He swallowed visibly. He started to speak, then only sighed, a shuddering sound of surrender.

With a slow smile, Arthur’s nerves began to unravel.
Good start.

“What do you think? Want to stop at this for tonight? Or do you want to play kinky librarian and the leatherman?”

He had his answer with the flash of lust in Gabriel’s eyes and the deep coloring of his cheeks. Though he learned even more when Gabriel averted his gaze and drew his knees up tighter. “Something tells me I’m going to be blushing in the morning.”

“We don’t have to go that far,” Arthur reminded him.

Gabriel glanced at him, vulnerable, nervous—hungry. But the shame was there, the same terror which had closed Gabriel down once before. It always lurked, waiting. Arthur feared it almost more than Gabriel did.

Arthur leaned into the doorway as he considered his lover. “There comes a point when you have to embrace what you want in bed. When you have to choose it because you’re choosing you, not what other people think of you. Especially in Logan, you shouldn’t worry what other people think. Because people think some amazing things about you.”

In the water, Gabriel tensed. “Yes—but they don’t know. They think I’m like Frankie. That I have polite sex. Honestly, I think most people assume I don’t have sex at all.”

“First of all, I know from experience Frankie’s a howler, and I’ve never taken Marcus to bed, but I’ve heard him fuck, and he’s no kitten. Yes, you’re more adventurous, but Logan’s favorite gay couple isn’t a pair of monks. And what other people know or don’t know about your sex life isn’t their business. Here’s the thing I can promise you: the straight people walking in and out of your library, and the gay, and the lesbian—they’re all doing things in bed they think would get them crucified on Main Street. That’s sex in Middle America. Hell, that’s sex in America, period. We’re fucked in the head over it. We worship it, but only if it’s skeevy and unhealthy, and the second it ruins someone, we throw up our hands and blame sex, not our messed-up culture. Sex is an exploration of yourself and your partner. Sex is
fun
. But more than anything, baby, sex is who you are. I’ve seen that part of you, and I love it. But you have to love it too.”

Gabriel ran his long fingers along the edge of the tub. “I’m just…kinkier than I know people think I should be.”

“
Fuck the other people.
Your kink makes you beautiful. That’s what I think. You should think so too.”

“What people think does matter.” Gabriel submerged his hand in the water. “The truth is I’ve always wanted kinky things. I’ve read about them, fantasized about them. In middle and high school I horrified myself by all my fantasies of the quarterback holding me down and raping me. So
wrong
. Why would anyone healthy
want
to be tied up and degraded and forced to have sex? But I did. I wanted someone to make me suck cock. I didn’t actually want it to happen, but I thought about it all the time. I wanted to be taken. I wanted to be made to do things—sometimes to get out of having to admit I wanted them, but also because it was exhilarating. I don’t know why, and I couldn’t stop it, and it messed up all my relationships. Like it was this shadow haunting me, a side I couldn’t let out. So they would tell me I was frigid, because I held back so much. How ironic is that?” He laughed sadly and shook his head. “Sorry. This has to sound so pathetic.”

It took a little effort for Arthur to speak, and when he did, his voice was rough. “No. It sounds really fucking familiar.”

Gabriel glanced at him, surprised, still.

Hopeful.

Arthur came all the way into the bathroom and rested his ass against the sink. “I didn’t want to be tied up. I wanted to tie guys down. Paul was the first one who let me, and honest to God, I never told this to anybody, but a lot of what I liked about doing him was I
knew
he didn’t entirely want to do all the kink we were doing. That he put up with some of it because it was what I wanted. Made me feel awful and hard as a rock at once. It was never that Paul said no, but his reluctance, the idea he was enduring it because he wanted me to fuck him and that’s how he could get it—kind of a turn-on. Marcus got mad at me, told me I was using Paul. Paul told me not to listen to him. It was so screwed up. But I loved it.”

Gabriel had turned in the water as he listened. “What about me? You know I want it.”

“Yeah, but you’re so ashamed of how you want it. And you love
that
as much as you love being done. You gotta work on your morning after, because that’s too far into shame—but Jesus. You let go like someone afraid to let anybody know how much you want to let go, how far you’d let somebody take you.” Arthur smiled, love swelling inside him. “I love that you let me see it. Play with it.”

Gabriel had gone quiet, and he stared at Arthur for a long time before replying quietly, “I want to play with you. Tonight. I want to let go all the way. I don’t want to be ashamed. I don’t want you to make me do anything. I just want to do it. Because I want it. Because I’m not afraid, with you.”

The last dregs of Arthur’s unease fell away, replaced by pride and affection. “What game do you want to play, babe?”

Gabriel bit his lip a moment. “Ropes.”

Arthur smiled, a heady mix of love and dark lust swirling inside him. “Then get out of the tub, Mr. Higgins, but don’t get dressed. Because I’m going to tie you up.”

Gabriel dried off nervously, excited but also apprehensive. His heart beat erratically as he thought of what he’d asked for, of what Arthur had promised. Ropes. He’d had a tie wrapped around his wrists once, a million years ago—that was it. Now…now what would he have? Every bondage porn scene he’d ever watched played through his head, every image of ropework he’d viewed online flashed across his consciousness. Would Arthur tie him to a chair? The bed? Gabriel hadn’t seen any kind of cross or bench, but he hadn’t peeked in the closet. He
had
seen the bolts on the beams, though.

When he came out of the bathroom wearing his towel, Arthur stood holding a fistful of white nylon rope by the fire.

“Come on over here, gorgeous.” Wearing his leather and a cheeky grin, Arthur winked. “I’m feeling like tying you up.”

Damp and self-conscious, Gabriel felt as far from gorgeous as somebody could get. “But what are you going to tie me to?”

“Yourself.”

Gabriel frowned, but Arthur indicated the rug with the toe of his boot.

“It’s not going to be boring, trust me. If you’ve never been tied up before, you don’t know what you’re getting into. More to the point,
I
don’t know what you can and can’t handle. And I don’t feel like seeing you shut me out because I didn’t take care of you.” Gabriel blushed, a different kind of shame overtaking him, but Arthur shook his head and pointed sternly to the floor. “Gabriel Higgins, stop beating yourself up and sit your pretty ass down.”

That angry voice, Gabriel decided, was hot, and he went obediently to the space Arthur indicated in front of the fire.

It was odd, but sexy, to sit cross-legged and naked while Arthur crouched fully clothed before him, holding out a length of rope while he explained what he was about to do. Arthur taught him about different types of fibers, about braided versus corded rope and about different types of knots, which ones were bad ideas and which ones would easily come apart. He also held up a pair of safety shears.

“You might find, once I start tying your hands, that you panic. It’s kind of like how you know your orgy fantasies are just that—sometimes people get tied up and realize the thought is better than the reality, and they flip out. It can happen at any moment, and I need you to understand, to
believe
if you say
red
I will be cutting through whatever we’ve got you in so fast you won’t have time to hyperventilate. The other thing to know is I’m using nylon on you, which has a lot of stretch. So if you tug on these knots, which I’m already going to make ones you could get out of this first time, they’ll come loose with only a little effort. That said, rope still burns, and synthetic like we’re using has a high burn rate. The more you struggle, the more you’ll feel it. If you want that, go for it. If you don’t, you tell me you’re done, and I untie you or cut.”

Gabriel blinked under the onslaught of preparation. Who knew Arthur would be so thorough?

He was, though—he inspected Gabriel’s arms, every joint, asking if he’d ever had a break anywhere. When Gabriel said yes, his big toe on his right foot, Arthur inspected it, testing it against the left big toe. “Only a little weakness. Won’t matter tonight, since we’re only doing arms, but that’s good to know.”

They were only doing arms? Gabriel tried to hide his disappointment, but Arthur smiled knowingly.

“Trust me. You’ll find this more than an adequate start.” He nodded to Gabriel’s hands. “Hold out your arms, palms together. We’re going to do a single column tie.”

Gabriel watched, entranced as Arthur looped rope and tied the length of cord above Gabriel’s right wrist. Not on the joint, which he found interesting—that was where he’d have gone, but Arthur said no, that was too dangerous. Could cut off nerve circulation. He bound Gabriel above instead, one hand, one knot, but corded and twisted so it wasn’t only tight, it was pretty, almost a braided cuff. With a grin, he held the end and lifted Gabriel’s hand, waving his arm around like a puppet.

“How does it feel?”

Gabriel watched his arm move, enjoying the feel of being out of its control. “Good. It’s not tight. Well—it is. But it doesn’t hurt. It’s almost comfortable.” Comfor
ting
, even.

Arthur tugged at the knot, and the rope came free. “Now we’re going to tie your hands together.”

He used much the same kind of knot, in the same place, but this time the rope went around both of Gabriel’s wrists. At first Gabriel wanted to complain because Arthur left so much room between his wrists, until he wrapped the ends of the rope around that space, making it snug and rendering Gabriel’s wrists completely immobile.

Completely
immobile. He tugged, tried to get free—and he couldn’t.

Arthur stilled his struggles, placing a heavy hand on his bonds, another on Gabriel’s face. “Two tugs on that rope and you’re out. And like I said, if you sat here and worked at it, you’d have burns but you could get to the point where you could get free.” He stroked Gabriel’s cheek, the back of his hand beside the ropes. “How does it feel?”

Gabriel stared at the knots, strange feelings burbling inside him. Not quite panic, but…a rush. A rush of awareness and alarm followed swiftly by peace.

Surrender.

Arthur’s thumb brushed his cheek again. “Gabriel, tell me how you feel.”

Gabriel wrenched his gaze from the ropes, moving it to Arthur’s face. “Good. Odd. But good.”

Arthur kissed his lips. “Ready for a little more?”

Gabriel nodded, but his heart pounded, warning him
a little
was all the more he could take just now. He understood why Arthur hadn’t tied him to the bed or a set of hooks. In fact, Gabriel began to think it would be some time before he was ready for such things. While this lack of control was thrilling, the reality was far more heady than he’d anticipated it to be.

Arthur undid the tie, then ran his hands along Gabriel’s arms. “I’m going to do a full arm bind. The rope will attach in three places to you.” He tapped Gabriel’s wrist, elbow and biceps. “I’ll use the same column tie I used on you for the first two binds, but then I’ll hitch them all together. You won’t be able to move your arms. If you get in a panic, I’ll cut you loose. You can stop it at any time. And if you decide it’s not for you, there’s nothing wrong with that.”