Sleigh Ride (Minnesota Christmas Book 2) (4 page)

“Wanted to talk to your hubby. He around?”

It was cute the way Frankie blushed and got flustered when Arthur pretended he and Marcus were already married. Why they weren’t now that marriage equality was the law was anybody’s guess. “He’s at a meeting at city hall. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? I have a white bean rosemary stew in the Crock-Pot.”

“Sure.” Arthur bleeped over the
white bean
and
rosemary
parts and focused on
stew
. Had to be meat in a stew, right? “It’ll keep, I guess. Had an idea I wanted to run by him is all, while I had the bee in my bonnet.” He scratched his beard, considering Frankie. “You might be able to help too. Do you know anything about them grant things? Where you apply to get money from…I don’t know. The grant people?”

“My mom’s applied for a few of the government ones for colleges, but she says the private foundation ones are a lot less hassle, quicker with payout most of the time. Not as much bureaucratic red tape.”

A private foundation one it was, then. “How does somebody go about finding one? Who do you ask?”

Frankie looked ready to laugh. “What in the world is this about, Arthur?”

Arthur did a check in the chair, and sure enough, Nancy was all ears. Might as well take an ad out in the
Logan Gazette
. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later. What time you want me for dinner?”

“I don’t know. How about I text you? I never know how long Marcus will be half the time.”

“Text’s good,” Arthur said.

He went to his mom’s place and fussed with the sleigh a little more, and as he worked he thought about the library and its librarian. He couldn’t get over how different Gabriel was when he was with kids. The guy needed to move to the city and find himself an executive gay and adopt a pile of babies from Rwanda or wherever people adopted from these days. That would mean the Logan kids wouldn’t have story time, so maybe the executive gay would have to move up here.

God, he really was something, Gabriel. Still not Arthur’s type, but cute when he smiled. Kind of got Arthur in the belly when he was good to the kids. He understood why his mom was trying to set him up.

Not that it was going to happen. But the guy wasn’t as bad as Arthur had thought.

Maybe Arthur should introduce Gabe to Frankie—as friends. They seemed like the same type of guy, except Gabe was more geek where Frankie was pretty much full-on fairy. Probably Gabe would get all excited about white beans and rosemary. The guy never went out as far as Arthur could tell, and nobody seemed to know him, even after he’d been in town for almost eighteen months. Arthur hadn’t thought about it much until now, but it was kind of a disgrace nobody had bothered to befriend the guy except Arthur’s crazy mother. It had damn well better not be the gay thing.

Fuck, it really might be the hair.

Arthur swung by the library on his way home from work, and then on a whim drove down the side street to the house he knew Gabe was renting. It looked pretty sad from the curb—peeling gray paint with a curling gray roof and three windows in the front with…gray curtains. The green Nissan Gabe drove was parked in the drive—no garage, which meant the snow they were going to get tonight would pile up on it.

What was Gabriel having for dinner tonight?

Arthur pulled the truck over and got out his phone. Frankie answered on the third ring.

“Hi, Arthur. I was about to text you. Seven okay?”

It was kind of late to eat, but Frankie was all
city
and thought
nine
was fine. “Sure. Hey—would it be okay if I brought somebody?”

There was a long pause on the other line. “You mean…somebody not Paul?”

“No, he’s off sucking his thumb still, having feelings or some shit. I wanted to bring the librarian.”

“Gabriel? Of course you can bring him. I’ve tried to have him over several times, but he always has something come up. How in the world did you convince him?”

There was a subtle emphasis on the
you
, which only made Arthur that much more determined. “I can be pretty persuasive. I’ll be by with Gabe at seven.”

After hanging up, he swung the truck around and headed for the sad little gray house, already getting excited about the argument he knew he was about to have.

When the doorbell rang, Gabriel ignored it, continuing to frown at his freezer stack of frozen entrees, trying to decide if he wanted to be lazy and eat one or if he should get the package of chicken breasts out and make the wine sauce he’d been meaning to try. The second ring of the doorbell was louder, more insistent, and Gabriel glared toward the front of the house, hoping this wasn’t another Boy Scout sales season. Those were always awkward moments, because he simply couldn’t give any support to the organization until they had full inclusion of gay members, leaders too, but he couldn’t say no to any of his library patrons, either. It could be the LDS missionaries again, which was even more uncomfortable a prospect. He’d go on pretending he was in the basement in the laundry room, unable to hear the door.

The doorbell rang a third time, accompanied by a heavy pounding, implying someone was using their fist as a knocker.

“Gabe? I know you’re in there. I see your car.”
Bang bang bang.
“Open up. I got a proposition for you.”

Gabriel shut the freezer with a wince. Worse than Boy Scouts, worse than missionaries.
Arthur Anderson.

He stayed in the kitchen, making no noise. If he waited, even Arthur would give up. He’d have to. It might take a while, and it was annoying, but—

The front door opened, and Arthur’s bellow cut across Gabriel’s tiny living room. “Gabe? Where the hell are—?”

Gabriel swung into the living room. “You can’t just come into my house.”

Arthur had the audacity to look indignant. “You weren’t answering your door.”

“So you let yourself into my house?”

“The door wasn’t locked. I figured you were in the basement or something.” Arthur put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels, beaming. “Anyway, you’re gonna be glad I came in. I’m taking you to dinner.”

Gabriel blinked and put his hand on his recliner to steady himself. “What?”

“Dinner. Even if you already ate, you should come eat again. Frankie’s a hell of a cook. It’s some white-bean thing. A stew. But he puts rosemary in.”

So Arthur wasn’t asking him
out
. Only to dinner with…another man.
Two
other men. “Why are you inviting me to Frankie’s house?”

“Because you need to meet people, and you’d like Frankie.”

Gabriel did like Frankie. He’d been meaning to accept one of the stylist’s dinner invitations, but this was too odd. Maybe if Arthur had asked him without breaking and entering, he’d have been interested. “Thank you, but I already ate. And I have a lot of work to do.”

One of Arthur’s bushy red eyebrows arched dubiously. “Work on what? You don’t have tests to grade from the library or anything.”

Gabriel bristled. “No, but I have catalogs to go over and…” He didn’t have much to do, and goddamn it, but he couldn’t make anything up on the spot. He was still too rattled by Arthur walking into his house.
Yes, focus on that.
“I can’t believe you’re rude enough to let yourself into my house. I don’t want company tonight, so thank Frankie and Marcus for me. Please leave.”

Arthur took a step forward. “What crawled up your butt, Gabe?”

Ugh.
This
man
. “My name is Gabriel. Please do not call me Gabe.”

“What crawled up your butt,
Gabriel
?”

“Nothing is in my ass, thank you. Please leave.”

Arthur’s eyebrows waggled. “Something in your ass might make you feel a lot less cranky.”

Gabriel was so shocked, so insulted, for a second he couldn’t breathe. “
Get. Out. Of my house.
Right now.”

Arthur held up his hands. Then he
sat down on Gabriel’s couch
. “You know I’m teasing you. That’s your problem. You need somebody to tease you more.”

Your problem.
“What in the
hell
gives you the right to barge into my house and tell me what you think my problems are?”

“I’m trying to be neighborly.”

“You’re insane. You’re a cloddish, oafish, orange-haired lump. You have the cranial capacity of a
goldfish
. You aren’t neighborly. You’re a pain in the ass.”

Arthur’s grin curled Gabriel’s toes. “I thought you didn’t want me to talk about putting things in your butt, honey.”

The noise escaping Gabriel’s nostrils was reminiscent of a teakettle as it ramped up to scream out its whistle. His arms were taut with fury, his hands clenched at his sides. Gabriel was going to hit him. If anyone deserved to be punched, it was Arthur, and by God, Gabriel was going to clock him right across the face.

Stalking up to him, Gabriel swung.

Arthur took his hand in a strong, sure grip.

With an angry shout, Gabriel wound up his other arm. Arthur caught that too.

Nostrils flaring, spewing expletives, Gabriel struggled in Arthur’s grip. Wrestled, trying to reclaim his hands.

He landed on Arthur’s lap, bumping Arthur’s face into his chest. Right at his neck, and he could feel Arthur’s hot breath on his skin. Gabriel went still. Shutting his eyes, he let out a staccato breath.

Shit.
This was… He didn’t know what it was, but it made him a little hard.

With a roar, Gabriel struggled free. Arthur released him, but when Gabriel took another swing, Arthur captured his arms once more, easily, and held him fast.

Fuck, that was hot.

Gabriel gave a sigh, this one unmistakably of arousal.

Arthur’s gaze narrowed, lust burning in his eyes.

In Arthur’s grip, Gabriel went slack.

Arthur brushed a kiss against Gabriel’s skin, and Gabriel tensed, but he also moaned as he fought an intense wave of dark, drugging desire. Gabriel tried to climb back into his anger. He didn’t want this. He didn’t…

Arthur shifted Gabriel’s arms down, forcing them to his sides, moving them around to his back so he could hold them in place with one hand. Gabriel struggled, still furious but distracted by how strong Arthur was. Gabriel glared at him, breath hissing through his teeth.

Arthur stared, his gaze heavy and…commanding. It made Gabriel dizzy. Confused.

Hard.

It wasn’t anything, though, to what happened when Arthur slid his free hand into Gabriel’s hair—and dug his fingers in.

With a moan, Gabriel sat down, straddling Arthur’s lap. He gasped when he felt the thick rod pushing against his own. He opened his mouth as Arthur’s hand tightened on his hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

C
hapter Four

G
abriel’s body had betrayed him, but his mouth could still fight. It nipped and darted at Arthur, making him chase, making him growl and grind against Gabriel’s cock. Gabriel spewed a string of Shakespearean-level insults, then groaned as Arthur pressed him into the couch, laying his heavy body on top to pin Gabriel in place.

He never let go of Gabriel’s hands. They were above his head now, trapped, immobile, but kept there by only one of Arthur’s hands, which was delicious because it meant Arthur could knead at Gabriel’s hip, tugging his thigh apart while he ground his cock against Gabriel’s groin. Gabriel gasped and pushed up even as he kept fighting. His whole body felt like an erection, and the more he fought, the more Arthur wouldn’t let him win, the crazier he felt and the tighter his arousal wound.

Arthur churned his hips in slow, heavy circles, counterpoint to Gabriel’s struggles, but he leaned in, nuzzling Gabriel’s cheek. “Need to make sure this is okay, baby.”

Gabriel jerked, angry at him for talking.

With a shushing sound, Arthur gentled him, still not letting go. “I know, but this is important. You just gotta do this once, let me know you’re playing the same game I am and I’m not about to actually rape you on your own couch. I’m pretty sure you’re willing, but I’m not interested in guessing wrong. You want to keep playing this, want to play hellcat fighting me while I hold you down and make you come, I’m all for that game.”

Game? Gabriel wanted to tell Arthur how stupid this was, but Arthur’s body was heavy, and he smelled good. Wood smoke and sweat and cold.
Play hellcat fighting me while I hold you down and make you come.
Gabriel swallowed, trying to dislodge the image from his mind, but it wouldn’t budge.

Arthur kept talking, his voice rumbly and delicious. “I won’t make you use words. I’m gonna put my finger on your lips. You want this? You suck the tip of my finger in. After that you can say no all you want, yell at me—but if you take my finger in, I know you want it, no matter what you say during the game.” He nuzzled Gabriel’s cheek. “Unless you say red. You say anything else, I won’t stop—not until you come like a motherfucker. But you decide this was a bad idea, you keep your lips shut, don’t do or say anything, and I’ll go. Won’t bother you again. Your call.”

Gabriel held still, staring at Arthur as he processed this. Obviously he wasn’t playing some weird sex game, but…well, he wasn’t sure he wanted this to stop
entirely
.

Certainly he wasn’t sucking someone’s finger. Dear God, the very idea.

Arthur stared down at him, hazel eyes dark with promise.

Hold you down and make you come.
Saliva pooled in Gabriel’s mouth, and his lips parted slightly,

Arthur shifted, lifting his index finger, arcing it toward Gabriel’s face. “Okay? Get ready. Here we go. Your call, hon. Yes or no.”

Gabriel shut his eyes, mortified, and when Arthur’s finger pressed lightly on his sealed lips, he shivered.
Do nothing, and he’ll go.
That was what Gabriel wanted. Obviously. Except the thought made Gabriel ache. Not because he liked Arthur—Gabriel still wanted to deck him. He ached because this was the first sexual anything he’d had in a gazillion years. Because this moment was ripped right out of his deepest, darkest fantasies.

Come like a motherfucker.
Yes. God yes.

Hold you down.

Mother of God,
yes
.

Mouth now dry, whole body shaking, Gabriel opened his lips, tentatively, terrified, and licked the tip of Arthur’s finger.

Arthur purred, pushing it inside as he traced the soft flesh of Gabriel’s lip with his thumb. “Remember. Red, sweetheart. Yellow if you’re scared, red if you’re done. Otherwise no means
go harder
. Got it?”

No, Gabriel didn’t. He whimpered around the finger. And nodded, sucking it.

Arthur came unglued.

Gabriel cried out as Arthur whipped out his finger, shoved Gabriel’s legs wide and buried his face in Gabriel’s neck, growling—
growling
—and nipping and sucking.

Good Lord, this was insane.

“No—” Gabriel tried to wriggle away, shivering when he found he couldn’t. “Stop—don’t mark me—”

“Gonna mark you all over. Suck your skin right off your chest.” He latched noisily on to the skin below the collar of Gabriel’s shirt. It hurt, it burned, and it made Gabriel hard as a rock.

“
Ungh.
Fuck you—stop. Get off me.” He gasped and thrust into Arthur’s groin. He groaned when Arthur ground him into place then rutted him into the cushions in a dry hump. “Stop.
Stop.
”

Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

Arthur unbuttoned Gabriel’s shirt halfway down and laved his nipple. “You’re gonna moan like a little whore for me, honey. Spread your legs for me and hold them open.”

“
Fuck you.
Oh—” Gabriel’s back arched as Arthur sucked a nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue in rapid-fire flicks over the sensitive bud. He tried to put his hands in Arthur’s hair, but he couldn’t move his arms. “Let me go.
Ungh.
Oh
fuck
, harder.”

Arthur laughed wickedly and sucked like a Hoover. Gabriel whined and pushed up, but Arthur pushed him down. His free hand tugged Gabriel’s shirt out of his pants and undid his fly. “That’s right. Keep struggling, sweetheart. Show me how much you want me to fuck you. Wiggle and cuss and fight. Gonna suck you. Gonna make you scream. Gonna make you beg me.”

Gabriel had never felt so wrenched in two. He was shocked, furious—and so turned on he felt incoherent. He never let himself feel this. He shivered as Arthur pushed the panels of Gabriel’s dress shirt away, revealing his whole chest. When Arthur let go of his arms to undress him, to take off the shirt and pull Gabriel’s pants down to his ankles, Gabriel helped, then put his arms up to be held down again.

Shameless.

Whore.

He arched his back, making his nipples easy targets for Arthur’s hot, rude mouth.

“Next time I’m gonna lick you.” Arthur flashed his tongue over the nipple tip as he roughly palmed Gabriel’s dick, tugging his own out of his pants and thrusting them together, heated, velvet flesh. “For an hour. Make you crazy. Make you beg, honey. Let you say no to me, then I’ll
make
you say yes.” He humped, sliding their cocks together, sucking on Gabriel’s chest. “Because you don’t want me to stop, do you, baby? Say it. Hump me and say it.”

Gabriel shuddered. This was too much. This had to stop. Except he was so hard, so crazed, the idea of ceasing was ludicrous.

“Tell me you want it. Say,
I want this, Arthur.
”

“No,” Gabriel said, thrusting upward.

Arthur stopped.

Gabriel’s eyes flew open. He stared up at Arthur, drunk on sex, startled out of it, and stilled at the heaviness he saw in that ruddy face.
Make you.
His belly curdled then hummed with dark pleasure.

Arthur let go of his hands. “Pull your legs back for me. Knees to your chest. Open so you can feel my balls slap on you. So I can tease you if I want. Open up, then beg me. Beg me, Gabe, to fuck you on your couch. Beg me like a desperate little trick.”

Gabriel breathed slowly, deep breaths that made his head spin. He’d never done anything like this. His sexual encounters had been almost clinical—except the past two years when they’d been nonexistent. He was
not
a desperate little trick.

Except…he kind of wanted to be one.

Self-consciousness unspooled in his belly. He should say no. A real no.
Red.
The word burned in his mouth but wouldn’t come out, because too much of Gabriel didn’t want this to be over. But he couldn’t do that, say that.

It wasn’t fair, to take him this close and make him have to say no.

Arthur’s expression softened. He skimmed Gabriel’s arm in a caress, bending forward as if he were going in for a kiss. Gabriel’s breath caught at how tender, almost loving Arthur looked. His heart clenched, aching in a new way.

Arthur smoothed hair out of Gabriel’s face, toying with one of his curls. “Remember. Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

Oh, right.
“Yellow.” Embarrassed, Gabriel lowered his gaze to Arthur’s chest. Somehow the man’s shirt had come off, revealing a broad landscape of red hair, muscle and a tiny beer belly. Despite none of this being Gabriel’s usual turn-on, a medium-grade heat burned off some of his unease. “I— This isn’t what I planned.”

Arthur
could
play Santa, because he had the laugh. “Sweetheart. That’s half the fun. Nobody saw this coming.” He stroked Gabriel’s arm again. “This is just sex. Two healthy, sexy guys making a spark and itching a scratch together. You hide quite a fire under those librarian glasses. I put them on the coffee table, by the way.”

Blinking, Gabriel reached for his face, shocked to find his glasses gone. When and how had that happened?

Arthur smiled sideways. “You’re cute with them on, but damn, you’re hot as fuck with them off. Like Clark Kent.” He ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “Let’s get you off, Superman.”

Sliding their bodies together, Arthur kissed Gabriel almost sweetly. Gabriel’s head spun as he tried to catch up, though his body was already back in the game. That was it? He bit off a color, and Arthur behaved? If he’d said red when Arthur wouldn’t leave, would he have gone?

Thank God he hadn’t.

Except his thoughts kept churning, wondering what would happen now, what
this is just sex
meant, whether Arthur had really meant it when he said Gabriel was sexy.

With a chuckle, Arthur broke the kiss and tweaked Gabriel’s nose. “Now I get the non-con. You got a brain that won’t quit, even in bed. I’ll take this back up a notch. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable, but this’ll be more fun if you can let go.”

Gabriel skimmed his hands over Arthur’s shoulders, gaze anchoring on his pectorals. “This is always how I get. I’m sorry.” He knew it was annoying too, because every hookup and boyfriend had assured him so, over and over.

Arthur didn’t seem annoyed, though. “Nothing to be sorry about, sugar. You’re keeping me on my toes is all. I appreciate a challenge. Tell me I can’t do something, suddenly it’s all I want.”

“Oppositional defiant.” Gabriel’s breath hitched, and his eyes fell closed as Arthur nested their cocks in his hand again.

“Shut off that curly head and let me drive your body. I got your number, librarian. I know what you like. Even if you don’t want me to talk about how dirty you want it. Because what I told you to do wasn’t too far. It was only too soon.” His thumb teased the tip of Gabriel’s glans as he thrust. “You want me to make you do nasty things.
Make
you do them. Not because you’re too ashamed to ask for them.” He sucked on Gabriel’s earlobe before growling the rest in a whisper against Gabriel’s hair. “The shame’s your favorite part. Isn’t it, baby?”

Gabriel jerked, a thread of fear undoing his desire. It was true, but it made him feel naked that Arthur knew. Arthur who wasn’t his friend. Arthur who made him crazy.

Arthur whose hip grinds should be illegal.

“Hush.” Arthur bit lightly on Gabriel’s bottom lip. “This is just you and me. This is our fun time. Safe space. I’d never use any of this against you.” He tucked more snugly into Gabriel’s groin and ground out thrusts that made Gabriel moan. “I am gonna fuck you, Gabe. Gonna fuck you dirty right here on your couch. Every time you pass it you’re gonna think about how you spread for me. Gonna think about how it’s gonna happen again, how every time I’ll make it worse. Pretty soon you won’t be able to sit on this couch, you’ll be so embarrassed, remembering.”

Gabriel floated away on Arthur’s words, letting them drown out the nattering in his head. Arthur moved Gabriel’s body, called him slut boy and pretty whore. When Arthur pushed Gabriel’s knees up, wrapping Gabriel’s hands around his own shins, Gabriel didn’t fight him, only did as Arthur told him. Whimpering and pulling himself open to Arthur’s dark gaze, he quivered as Arthur indexed his body, objectifying it, explaining how he was going to fuck it.

When Arthur pushed two fingers into Gabriel’s mouth, he didn’t question, just sucked on them, grateful, relieved. Arthur told him to make them wet, and he did—gathered spit and coated them. As Arthur pushed those wet fingers to his hole, Gabriel whimpered and bore down, taking them in. He rode the blunt tips as Arthur jacked himself, spraying Gabriel’s belly before taking Gabriel’s cock in one hand while pushing in deep with those fingers, tickling Gabriel’s prostate as Arthur milked him into a jerking, screaming orgasm.

After, Arthur lay on top of him, leaving one finger still buried in Gabriel’s ass.

As the haze wore off, as the thick aftertaste of shame filled him, Gabriel withdrew. Tried to, anyway—Arthur wiggled his finger, prompting a whispered
no
from Gabriel, but Arthur smiled and thrust before kissing his way down Gabriel’s belly. He lapped at the cool spunk on Gabriel’s skin and suckled Gabriel’s spent cock. Fucked his over-sensitized ass once gently, with a single finger, reminding him.

You begged for this, with your body if not your mouth. You sucked my finger so I would put it here.

More unnerving than anything else was the way Arthur touched him. Tenderly. Kindly. When he did pull his finger out, Gabriel clenched in loss, shut his eyes and shifted obediently as Arthur dressed him again. Patiently, carefully, then put his own clothes back on too.

When he was done, he kissed Gabriel long and sweet on the mouth.

“I’ll tell Frankie you couldn’t make it. We’ll do dinner with them another time.” He stroked Gabriel’s side and kissed his still-sensitive nipple through the fabric. “I’ll be by around this same time tomorrow night.”

Gabriel’s gut lurched in terrified joy. His cock hummed drunkenly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

With a wicked grin, Arthur picked up Gabriel’s hand and licked the palm, slowly. Deliberately. Flicking the center over and over and over. He rested Gabriel’s hand on his chest.