Page 61 of Mr. Frosty Pants
The first song began with the clomping of reindeer hooves and a big band swinging beat. A 1950s-sounding woman’s voice broke into the familiar words of “Sleigh Ride.”
Joel laughed, his head falling back. “Christ, it’s merry as shit up in here.”
Casey stood and gripped Joel’s hand. “Dance with me.”
Joel shook his head, but he didn’t pull away. “I can only do the swaying thing. Nothing fancy.”
“So? It’s a fun song. Let’s dance.”
Joel’s elbows were a health hazard, and their ridiculous dance moves drove Bruno out of the room and out his dog door. The next song was Perry Como’s “Silver Bells,” and they kept on with their awkward movements, laughing and bumping into each other in the close quarters.
“You’re lame,” Joel muttered, sweaty and apparently finished. He collapsed on the sofa with another beer in one hand and a cookie in the other.
“You loved it.”
Joel shrugged, filling his mouth with cookie so he wouldn’t have to answer. Casey dropped down beside him and grabbed his own beer from the side table. It was lucky they hadn’t tipped it over with the “dancing.” “I looked up your books this afternoon.”
Joel swallowed his chocolatey mouthful. “Yeah?”
“I bought one, even. The werewolf one? But I admit I didn’t have time to read any of it yet. My Kindle was charged and ready to go, but I had to listen to another lecture from my mother instead.”
Joel’s mouth quirked. “About what?”
“About… You know what? Never mind.”
Joel shook his head, pointing at Casey with his beer again. “You brought it up. Tell me.”
Casey sighed, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, and leaned his head back on the sofa. “She tried to set me up with the son of my father’s boss. I wasn’t interested, and she’s not impressed with what she sees as the reason why.”
“Me?”
Casey shook his head, staring up at the smooth, white ceiling. “She doesn’t know about us. But she does think I’m chasing after you fruitlessly. She thinks I’m making a fool of myself.”
“Funny. Today must be a day for setups.” Joel snorted. “My employee, Angel, is trying to fix me up with her stepbrother.”
“Oh.” Casey didn’t like the way his stomach curled up at that.
“I’m not interested,” Joel said, nudging Casey with his elbow. “I’ve already got my holiday fling sorted.”
“I told you, let’s not call it a fling.”
“It’s definitely not a hookup,” Joel said primly, which made Casey want to laugh through his own jealousy.
“No. It’s not.”
“Let’s not call it anything.” Joel’s voice took on a vulnerable quality that made Casey’s insides quiver and his cock get hard. “Not yet.”
“Okay,” Casey agreed, but he really wanted to argue. He wanted to pin Joel down and make him say words about their feelings and their potential future. Because, if he could have this, maybe everything else in his life was negotiable. If he could have Joel, the rest of his so-called “life plans” could go suck a dick.
Speaking of…
“Hey,” Casey whispered. “Want to fool around on the sofa? Or should we head back to your room?”
Joel set his beer aside. Casey followed suit, ready to stand and let Joel lead him back to his dark room again.
“Here’s good,” Joel muttered, leaning over to take hold of Casey’s chin before kissing him hard.
Casey moaned, surprised at Joel’s aggression, and even more so when Joel climbed onto his lap, grinding his jean-clad ass down against Casey’s trapped, hard dick.
