A Christmas for Mitch
Mitch stared at the colorful lights on the fragrant tree with a smile. He loved Christmas, always had. Even as a child, even if he didn’t get much in the present department, he still loved Christmas. The sights and smells of the season had always charmed and captivated him. An angel perched slightly crooked atop the tree, smiling slightly, its beautiful face lifting heavenward.
“Hey, I brought you some eggnog.”
Mitch glanced over his shoulder to see the man of his dreams wearing a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer sweater. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to laugh when the aforementioned nose lit up. Why, it even glowed.
Locke seemed to sense his mirth and pulled at the hem.
“I lost a bet, okay?” He sat cross-legged on the floor and handed Mitch his nog, frothy and fragrant in a clear reindeer glass, complete with antlers.
“And that would be?” Mitch sipped the thick liquid and twitched his nose.
Locke sipped slowly, struggling to come up with some story he could tell Mitch to avoid the real reason he was wearing the embarrassing sweater.
Damn Nikolai Markov!
At the time, it seemed as if Locke would finally be able to take Mitch as his own. Until that point, he had been terrified that the rogues would discover his relationship with Mitch and target him for God knows what horrible thing. After the fight with rogues on the reservation, Locke was sure they had taken down at least one bigwig, and that no one had figured out that Mitch Devan was his mate.
Now it seemed as if trouble still loomed menacingly on the horizon. Nikolai had bet him he wouldn’t get it on with Mitch because of his vow not to touch the man until all threats were clear. Locke sighed and peered down at the glowing red nose on his chest.
“Locke?” Mitch prompted.
“It was stupid, okay? It’s Nik Markov’s idea of torturing me.”
“Well, you should get some of that back. I’m tortured every day,” Mitch snorted
Locke set his mug down and faced Mitch.
“You don’t think I want to kiss you? Get naked with you and fuck you? Have you not seen the way I look at you?”
“How do you look at me?” Mitch asked.
“Like I’m fucking starving and I just found some jerky.”
“Well, that’s…one way of putting it.” Mitch smiled.
“I do want you. God, you have no clue how much!” Locke sighed in frustration. “All I can think about is your skin, the way you smell, your dimples when you smile. The way your eyes light up when I make you laugh. The feel of your hair against my skin.” Locke caressed Mitch’s cheek. “The way your lips curve like they’re made for me.”
“They are,” Mitch whispered. “I’m all yours; you can have me any time. At least kiss me for Christmas.”
“Mitch,” Locke turned away.
Locke turned back and searched Mitch’s eyes. God, how could he not take him, make love to him and then seal their bond? In all the years he’d been with Mitch, he’d never wanted it more than he did now. Locke cupped Mitch’s face in his hands and leaned in slowly.
“Just a kiss?” he whispered.
Their lips touched softly and Locke groaned as Mitch’s hands went to his sides and gripped tightly. Mitch opened his mouth on a whimper and Locke dove in, finally getting a good taste of the man he was meant to be with. The heat rose in the room and Locke gripped Mitch’s ass, hauling him into his lap. Hands roamed, lips, tongue and teeth nipped and sucked at every place they could reach. Locke squeezed Mitch’s ass and the accompanying growl made his dick harder than a steel pipe.
“Wait, wait!” Locke pulled back, breathing hard.
“Dammit,” Mitch sighed, crawling off Locke’s lap. “You’d think I could get one wish.”
“I need air,” Locke rasped.
“Yeah? Me too.”
They both walked outside and Mitch looked up at the heavens. The stars were out again, so bright and clear.
“Why is the pool green?” Locke asked.
“Oh, for Christmas I dyed Riley and Mateo’s red.”
“Ah,” Locke nodded. “Payback. How festive.”
“Yep. Keegan and Vince’s is a goldish color.”
Locke shook his head with a smile. He pulled Mitch into his arms and held him.
“Don’t ever think I don’t want you, Mitch. When all this shit is done, I will make you mine.”
Mitch leaned back, locking eyes with him. “Yeah? You going to bite me hard?”
Locke grinned mischievously. “Oh, yeah.”
“Damn, that’s hot.” Mitch licked his lips.
“It sure is!”
Locke sighed and looked over his shoulder. Riley, Mateo, Vince, Keegan and Devin Lyons, along with his husband, Andrei Panchenko, had gathered at the sliding glass door, smiling broadly.
“Merry Christmas, guys,” Mitch laughed.