Page 18 of Dragged Home for Christmas

“Cut that out.”

“I will if you take it back. And if you don’t, the next pinch will be on your ass.”

The knock at the door made him jump. “Who can that be?”

Ashley snickered. “Well, itisHalloween. Maybe it’s the Bogeyman.”

He clambered out of bed and padded to the door. He opened it and peered out.

The light above the door illuminated Elliot, wearing a silken robe. Mike looked him up and down, and quickly realized something.

He’s naked under there. And hard. Oh fuck.

“Elliot.” The name came out as a croak, and he cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”

Elliott smiled. “I thought you might like some company. My bedroom’s just across the way there.” His smile widened. “It’s a big bed too.”

Fuck.

Mike took a breath. “Thanks for the offer but… I’m about to go to sleep.”

“Oh, we can sleep—after.” His eyes gleamed in the light.

Mike stared at him. “Goodnight, Elliott.” And with that, he closed the door.

Ashley snapped on the light. “Did you just get lucky?”

“No. Go to sleep.”

She grinned. “Sounded like it to me. So what was he wearing?” Her eyes widened. “Ooh. Was he naked?”

Mike raised his eyes heavenward. “Are you kidding? It’s so cold out there, his dick would probably freeze and shatter like a popsicle.”

“If it’d been me,Iwouldn’t have said no. When did you last get any action?”

“Excuse me? We arenothaving this conversation.”

“Why not? When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Mike snorted. “I hardly call what Elliott was suggesting a date.”

“No—it sounded way less messy. No dinner, no small talk, more an invitation to jump his bones. And they are such very pretty bones, aren’t they?”

“Sleep. Now. Before I make you drag your carcass to the front porch and leave you there.” He jumped as there was another knock on the door.

“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Mike glared at her before throwing back the comforter, climbing out of bed, and heading for the door.

Anthony stood there in nothing but a pair of sweats, sporting an obvious hard-on tenting the soft fabric.

Oh dear Lord. Is there something in the water around here?

Before Mike could tell him to go back to his own bed, Anthony placed his hands on the door frame and leaned in suggestively, so close that Mike could smell him.

Damn. He smells good.

“I thought you might like to come on over to my room for a massage,” Anthony said in a silky voice that was almost a purr. “Nick used to say my hands could work magic.” He grinned. “My mouth’s pretty good too.”

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