Page 57 of Tinsel & Tools
“Let me be your manager?” Ryan teased. At least, I thought he was joking.
I chuckled slightly. “What would we call ourselves? The Handyman and the Big City Writer?”
Gavin shook his head. “That’s catchy in the worst way.”
“You two have talent,” Mike chimed in. “But we’re happy to keep you performing just for us. See you next week.”
We stuck around for a few more songs. Ryan kept needling me across the table, Allie kept grinning, and people drifted over to talk about the storm that might roll in overnight. Through all of it, Gavin’s leg rested against mine and stayed there, a quiet anchor under the table that I didn’t question. When it felt late enough to slip out, I caught his eye and tipped my head toward the door. He nodded, and we slid from the table.
“We’re going to head out,” I told Ryan and Allie.
“Already?” Ryan furrowed his brow.
“You know, work at seven a.m. Boss is a hard ass.” I playfully nudged Gavin’s arm.
“Your so-called boss lives with you now. Doubt he’d fire you,” Ryan challenged.
“Just let them go, babe. We should go too, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
He hurried to get out of the booth. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Outside, snow dusted the lot, and the freezing air cut through my coat. We moved quickly to my truck, saying our final goodbyes, and then climbed in. Once I got the heat blasting, Gavin shifted closer without a word, his hand on my knee over the console, and kept it there while I pulled onto Spruce Street. The wipers worked steadily as we traversed the empty roads, and the town lights fell away behind us until it was only headlights on white.
“I had fun tonight. Did you?” he asked.
“Yeah. I always go to karaoke unless someone shows up at my door when I only have a towel around my waist.”
His lips curved. “Lucky for me, I showed up when I did.”
“Lucky for you. Anyone else and I’d have called the cops.”
He squeezed my knee. “So, I’m the exception?”
“For now,” I teased, giving him a look. “Depends on if you keep making me miss karaoke.”
“Missing it last week worked out.”
“It did,” I agreed, heat spreading across my skin. “Now let’s see if you can make the rest of tonight work out too.”
He leaned closer, his grin lit by the dash. “I think I can.”
At the house, the porch light threw a soft glow across the steps. I unlocked the door and held it open for Gavin. The tree lights blinked from the corner, and the faint scent of pine filled the living room. I hooked my coat on the peg, turned, and he was on me, his mouth firm and his tongue slipping past my lips.
I caught his hips and pushed him back against the wall with a thud that shook the frame. His hands slid under my shirt and dragged it up. I lifted my arms, and he yanked the fabric over my head before throwing it onto the floor. He tugged me to him by my belt and kissed me again, slower this time, teasing me with his tongue until I groaned into him as our stiffening dicks rubbed together through our jeans.
“Bedroom,” I breathed against his mouth.
“Take me there.”
I grabbed his hand and we moved down the hall, our mouths still working together as we went. We bumped the doorframe, then stumbled toward the bed before I pushed him onto it, his back hitting the mattress with a bounce. When he pulled me down with him and rolled his hips up into mine, a moan came out of both of us.
I got his sweater off first, then the T-shirt under it, the material warm from his body. I kissed his chest, tasted salt and pure Gavin, and worked my mouth along his skin until he fisted my hair and breathed my name in a tone that stripped me down to the bone. I unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as I pulled the leather free, then popped the button and pulled the zipper down. When he lifted for me, I took his pants and boxers off in one pull and tossed them aside. Then I looked at him stretched out on my sheets, flushed and already hard. I still had my jeans on, and the sight of him naked made me ache to catch up.
“Get your pants off,” he ordered. “I want to taste you.”
I worked the denim open, then shoved the jeans down, along with my boxers, and kicked out of everything. He sat up, laid his palms against my stomach, and traced lower until his fingers wrapped around me. I swore under my breath and braced my hands on his shoulders, the slow pull of his hand making my knees threaten to give. He looked up through his lashes, then leaned in and took me into his mouth.
My head fell back. I set one hand on the back of his neck and kept the other on his shoulder, holding tight as he pulled me deeper. He worked me fast, his jaw relaxed and his breath huffing through his nose. Each pass drew me closer to erupting too quickly.
