Read New Year, New Love, New Challenge Online

Authors: S. Blaise

Tags: #m/m romance

New Year, New Love, New Challenge

New Year, New Love, New Challenge

 

 

 

 

They
fell through the doorway together in a tangle of lips and limbs, barely avoiding a collision with the floor.

One moaned, the other gasped as they navigated the dark apartment. The faint sounds of passers-by outside reached their ears as others made their way home from their own New Year’s celebrations, but they were ignored. Trent thanked his lucky stars once more that he accepted his boss’s invitation to a Hogmanay ceilidh, which led to him meeting the fun and sexy man in his arms.

Andrew Cameron, his boss’s nephew, seemed to be doing his best at the moment to suck his tongue from his mouth and pull his hair out. Trent slid a hand down Andy’s waist and along one muscular thigh to the bottom of the kilt he was wearing, finally,
finally
reaching underneath and dragging his palm back up again. He let out a surprised, pleased groan as he encountered no resistance until he reached the waist of the kilt once more from the other side, feeling nothing but smooth, slightly chilled skin the whole way.

“Well, that answers that question,” he gasped. Andy laughed, kissing him again and grinding their bodies together.

“Come on you,” he pulled Trent through another door. “You know there’s a saying that the first thing you do on the first day of New Year’s is what you’ll be doing the rest of the year?” Trent could just make out the grin on the other man’s face thanks to the dim light seeping through the curtains from the streetlamps outside.


Real
ly?” he asked, his own lips stretching into a leer. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that belief before.”

Andy nodded emphatically. “Oh yes. A venerable and respected superstition—that I may or may not have made up, but I’m sure I heard it somewhere. And if not, well, venerable, respected superstitions have to start somewhere.”

Trent laughed. “And what would you suggest we do?”

Andy snorted. “I shouldn’t have to draw you a picture; let’s just say I didn’t bring you here to play Scrabble.”

Trent laughed and pressed his lips against Andy’s again in a hard kiss and withdrawing his hand from the kilt to try and unfasten it. He cursed as he fumbled with the straps and buckles, becoming clumsy in his eagerness. Andy snickered, finally taking pity on him and shoving him away to fall on the bed while undressing himself in less than a minute, leaving the kilt and his shirt in an undignified heap on the floor topped with his socks, his shoes next to it like a side dish.

Trent’s breath was taken away by the sight of the naked man before him. The ache he felt in his groin for most of the night intensified to an almost painful degree. Andy’s smile turned to a cocky grin as he noticed the effect he was having and stalked over confidently. He let Trent settle further up on the bed and leaned over him.

“Now, your turn.”

He undid the buttons of Trent’s shirt, kissing each patch of skin in the trail down his chest as it was revealed, paying extra attention to his sensitive navel until Trent was squirming beneath him. Upon reaching the black trousers he bypassed them completely, moving instead to take off Trent’s shoes and socks, making him squirm for a different reason as his feet met the cool air.

“I wonder if Americans are as ticklish as Scottish people?” Andy asked, mischief clear in his voice.

Trent aimed his best glare in the other man’s direction. “Don’t you fucking dare!” It was only met with a gleeful laugh.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m only joking. I can barely hold on much longer as it is.” The desperation of his words made Trent moan, and he sighed, relaxing, as he felt hands at his waist again.

The rest of his clothes were quickly tossed to join Andy’s on the floor. Andy’s warm skin slid against Trent’s and burned like a heater. Trent gasped, trying to touch every part of it that he could. Andy rocked and groaned above him. The cold of being outside for so long had been chased away and now Trent felt only a molten heat from within and around him.

“Oh, hang on.” Andy paused, moving and picking up his sporran, the round leather bag that hung at the front of his kilt, to Trent’s moan of complaint. He retrieved something from it, grinning as he returned to the bed. Trent stared at the condom packet and mini tube of lube he held.

“Is there anything that thing
doesn’t
carry?” he asked.

Andy chuckled. “Kitchen sink?” He climbed onto the bed and stretched out over Trent again. “So, how we doing this then?” His spoke in a low, suggestive purr.

“Your place, you choose,” Trent replied, tracing Andy’s skin with his fingertips again. He received a grin and Andy sat up to straddle him.

“This works for me.”

Lubed up, his fingers pushed inside one by one with little resistance, and Andy rocked down to meet them, making him groan. It had been far too long since he did something like this and he wanted to savor it. At the same, he wanted to move faster and get to the main event. Finally Andy was ready, begging him to “quit fucking teasing and stick your dick in there.” It was an order Trent was eager to obey after rolling on the condom.

It almost burned, the clenching around him, feeling perfect as Andy drove down onto his cock, the body above him a pale, broad stripe in the barely there light. Trent wished he could see the glinting green eyes, the wild mane of golden brown hair better, but he would settle for feeling instead and gripped Andy’s thighs, moving up to his hips, shifting one hand to examine his member by touch.

They moved together, beads of sweat running from Trent’s brow, their groans and cries filling the room. Trent gave one last buck upwards, releasing into the restricting rubber sheath as Andy dropped down, splattering Trent’s hand and both their stomachs with hot liquid. Andy’s lips found Trent’s again, moaning into the deep, lazy kiss. They did a minimal clean up and struggled to get under the covers when their limbs had become practically boneless. The New Year continued to roll in without them as they had soon drifted off to sleep, arms and legs around each other.

 

*  *  *

 
“Trent?”
a low Scottish-accented voice burred in his ear.

“Mm?”

“I’m off in the shower; I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” he managed to hum, barely awake.

He was lying in a warm, soft bed feeling heavy limbed and sated, his black hair the only thing visible above the covers. He wasn’t ready to get up and face the world yet. Though his ears picked up the sounds his brain didn’t really register them, as he was still mostly asleep. He heard a heavy door open and slam shut, then something being dropped on the floor, clattering against wooden floorboards, and a minute later came the sound of the bedroom door creaking open and steps approaching the bed.
Oh, Andy’s back, that was quick,
his sleep fuzzed brain reasoned idly, not realizing that the steps were too light for a man.


Ha-ppy New Year Andy
—”

Trent yelled, suddenly jolted awake by a woman’s loud voice as she practically leaped on him. She screamed in response and fell onto the floor in her haste to clamber quickly off him.

They both screamed in surprise together.

“What—what?” Andy asked, panicked, as he ran in, dripping wet and with only a towel clutched around his waist. The strange woman struggled to her feet, turning to him while Trent held the covers firmly up to his shoulders and stared at them both.

“Andrew! There is a naked
man
in your bed!” She paused for a moment. “Can I have him?”

“No! My naked man! You go find your own!” He stepped around her so he was between her and the bed. “What’re you doing in here?”

“I came in to say Happy New Year to you and I find
him
!” she explained, gesturing at Trent before giving him a bright smile. “Hiya.”

“Uh, hi,” Trent replied, returning her smile weakly.

“So are you gonna introduce us or not?” she demanded, turning to Andrew again.

Looking as uncomfortable as Trent felt, Andrew pointed to each of them in turn. “Isla, Trent. Trent, Isla. Isla is my sister who I share the flat with.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said cordially with a smile, as if Trent wasn’t sitting naked in her brother’s bed and she hadn’t jumped on him a moment ago.

“You- you too,” he managed to reply, still wishing he could just sink into the bed and disappear.

Now that he could look at her properly, Trent saw the resemblance. She was short, too, though slimmer than her brother, and wearing a bright pink strapless dress that clung to her curves. She was shoeless, and her hair fell past her shoulders in soft waves and was a deep red of a uniform color that usually meant a dye job. She had the same cheerful face as Andy, though, and her green eyes sparkled with the same mirth as his.

“Well, nice to see it was a
very
happy new year for the both of you. I’ll leave you to it, and Andrew, I expect all the details so I can tease you and blackmail you with them later.” She gave them a final carefree wave as Andy all but shoved her outside the door.

Andy turned to Trent with an embarrassed sigh, still gripping his towel. “Sorry about that. She’s the older one as well, if you can believe it. I should have warned you.”

Now awake and recovered from the surprise, Trent was more interested in the way water droplets clung to Andy’s still wet skin, his nipples hardened by the cool air. “That’s okay,” he coughed, clearing his throat.

“I’d better go finish my shower,” Andy said. He still looked uncomfortable in only a towel despite what they’d done last night. He went back out, but Trent heard him banging on the bathroom door a moment later. “Isla! I was taking a shower!” There was a pause where he assumed Isla was saying something, and then Andy pounded the door again. “Augh!” he shouted, stomping back to his room. “Isla stole the bloody shower off me!” he fumed as he slammed the door. “Says she’s in it now and I can go in after her even though
I’d
been in there first and
ran out
’cause of her screaming! I’m still wet and it’s cold!”

Not really listening to the tirade, Trent sat up with a smile, his brown eyes still holding a sleepy warmth to them. He held out a hand. “I can always warm you up.”

Andy approached but hesitated when he reached the edge of the mattress. “I’ll get the bed wet.”

But now that he was close enough, Trent simply flipped aside the duvet and hauled Andy under it with him; Andy gave a surprised yell. “Don’t care. It’ll dry out.” He nuzzled Andy’s droplet-speckled skin.

“I might almost think you were enjoying my predicament,” Andy managed to get out as he gasped at Trent kissing his neck.

“You’re wet and naked. I’m definitely not complaining.”

His attention shifted to the stiff, peaked nubs on Andy’s pale, broad chest. He licked at them and sucked them into his heated mouth one at a time, leaving gentle kisses on the skin between them as he moved from one to the other. Now that he could fully see and appreciate Andy’s naked body in the soft light coming in from the windows, he wanted to worship every part of it.

It always fascinated him, seeing the bare skin of a new lover against his own, which was a warm, tawny brown thanks to his Hispanic roots. Being an international manager for one of the world’s largest banks allowed him to travel to various points around the world and he firmly believed in experiencing the local culture and people. But he found Andy’s strawberries-and-cream skin with its light dusting of freckles the most mesmerizing of all. By the time he was finished they both needed a shower and crept stealthily into the bathroom together, keeping an eye turned to Isla’s closed bedroom door on the way. The little spectacle earlier had been more than enough embarrassment, they didn’t need her to see them sneaking in to the bathroom to have a shower together with only towels hiding their modesty. The water warmed and revitalized them and turned their skin slippery smooth. They took their time washing each other’s backs… and other areas. It was only the water beginning to turn chilly that drove them out and back to the bedroom once more.

Trent sprawled on a corner of the couch while Andy stretched his legs out on the cushions, leaning against Trent’s chest. They were making fun of
Eastenders
when Isla emerged from her own bedroom. She looked clean and fresh with her hair pinned up, subtle makeup enhancing her features and wearing a dark brown suede skirt with a pale green satin blouse and brown knee high boots. She zipped up her purse, flashing them a smile.

 Trent had borrowed a jumper from Andy which was a little short on him and had to put his trousers from the night before back on as nothing of Andy’s would fit. Andy was only wearing tracksuit bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The two of them looked like slobs compared to her, not that either of them really cared.

“Where you off to?” Andy asked.

“Back to Stan’s. We’re having dinner with his parents for New Year’s Day.”

“So you came back here just to change? Why not just stay at his?”

“Because I didn’t have a change of clothes at his, at least not anything I could wear for dinner with his parents,” she explained, annoyed.

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