Authors: Amber Kell
The noise of bells jingling woke him. Blinking at the sound, Gregory Brown tried to get his eyes to focus only to remember he needed his glasses. His near-sightedness had only worsened with age until last week he’d broken down and bought corrective lenses. Damn, he felt old.
Squinting he spotted his new silver frames on a wooden nightstand beside the bed. He plucked them off the table and he slid them on his nose in an automatic motion as he scanned the room.
“Where the fuck am I?” Unfortunately, the improvement to his sight didn’t reveal any answers.
The last thing he remembered was taking Janna’s dare and sitting on Santa’s lap at the strip mall down the street. Normally he’d ignore Janna but she’d promised him a thousand dollars if he had a picture taken with Santa for her photo album. Considering he couldn’t remember his last full meal and his water was in danger of being cut off, he’d taken it.
The mall’s Santa setup had been surprisingly good. A white castle sparkled with fake icicles and the elves had done a phenomenal job with the makeup. It had looked more like a movie set than a cheap kid’s fantasy world. Strangely he must’ve picked an odd time because there wasn’t a line when he approached.
“Come Gregory and tell me what you want for Christmas.” Santa had said, beckoning him closer to Santa’s throne chair.
That was when he had known the entire thing was a setup. Janna must’ve tipped the man off that he was coming. It seemed a little extreme but he knew his old friend was trying to find ways to help Gregory through his rough patch.
Gregory had smiled and forced himself to be a good sport. He'd walked over and started to kneel beside Santa.
“Oh no, for my magic to work, you have to sit on my lap.” Santa had said with a low, belly laugh.
Great! A Santa perv! With a sigh, he'd perched awkwardly on the Santa’s right leg.
“Now tell me, Gregory, what do you want for Christmas this year?”
Gregory had almost laughed and said a red fire engine when an image flashed through his head. “I want to marry a handsome dark-haired man who adores me. Hell, handsome is optional. I’d settle for employed and kind-hearted.” He'd shuddered as he remembered some of the losers he’d dated lately.
The mall Santa had given a hearty laugh. “I think I can do better than that for a man who’s always been on my nice list.”
“Smile!” the elf behind the camera had shouted.
Oh right he needed to have a picture. Turning, he'd smiled at the camera.
Gregory had felt the man pat him on the back. “Here, have a candy cane but don’t eat it until you’re almost ready to go to bed.”
“Umm, thanks.” He'd stood up and walked over to the counter to pay.
“There’s no charge. You were our first customer of the day,” the tiny female dressed in an elf costume had told him cheerfully.
“Great!” He hadn't had money anyways. He had planned to buy it on credit and pay it off with the money Janna gave him.
The photographer elf had scurried over and handed him his picture in a closed folder. “Don’t forget to eat your candy cane before bed or the magic won’t work.”
“Right.” Gregory had nodded to the intense man. He wasn’t going to start an argument in Santa’s palace but these people needed to go for some serious deprogramming after the holidays.
With a wave goodbye to everyone, Gregory had left Santa and the mall.
“Oh good you’re awake. I brought you some coffee,” said a deep, warm voice.
Gregory looked up at the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen. Cobalt blue eyes all but glowed at him from a face that was a study in everything going right in genetics: cleft chin, high cheekbones, and a lush mouth silently begging for kisses that Gregory would happily grant. Shirtless and wearing a pair of candy cane striped boxer shorts, the stranger was easily the type of candy Gregory yearned to lick. In one hand he held a coffee mug.
A soft bark jerked Gregory’s attention from the stunning man before him.
Turning his head, he spotted the ugliest dog he’d ever seen. The white-haired mop only had one eye and a wide scar across his nose. Barking, the little beast panted happily at Gregory.
“Dancer, get down! You know you’re not allowed on the furniture,” the stranger said. He gave Gregory an apologetic smile. “I don’t get visitors often.”
Gregory found that hard to believe but thought it would be rude to argue with his dream inhabitants. How else would he end up in this gorgeous god’s bed? “You named your dog after Santa’s reindeer?”
The man gave him a strange look. “No, I named him Dancer because he likes to jump around when I play music.”
“Oh, of course.” Gregory sat up and leaned against the headboard. “Listen, I don’t mean to be a jerk but I have absolutely no memory of last night.” Flashes of sucking on a candy cane and drinking a cup of cocoa filled his mind but he had no idea how he went from late night chocolate to a handsome man’s bed. “What’s your name?”
A scowl crossed the stranger’s face. He set the mug he held on the side table and shooed the dog away. “You don’t remember hitting on me and insisting I was the one for you.”
“Oh, God.” Gregory buried his face in his hands.
The stranger laughed. The bed dipped and a warm arm wrapped around him. “You were adorable. You’d be surprised how rarely men hit on me and you did it so charmingly.”
Gregory groaned and let the stranger tuck him in his strong arms. Warm flesh engulfed him along with the natural scent of the sexy man.
The chest beneath his head shook as the stranger relived the moment. “You asked if I was employed and if I was kind to animals.”
“Oh, fuck,” Gregory whispered.
Fingers ran through Gregory’s hair in slow comforting strokes.
“My name is Rudolpho but my friends call me Tre.”
Gregory leaned back to look at the gorgeous man. “Why would they call you Tre?”
Tre tilted his head and examined Gregory with his piercing blue eyes. “You really don’t recognize me, do you?”
“Am I supposed to?”
The smile he got in response rivaled the sun. “I am one of identical triplet models. I’m the youngest. We’re all well known.” Tre uttered the words with soft pride.
“There are three of you.” Gregory flushed as his voice squeaked. But damn, one was hot, three were a gay man’s orgy dream come true.
Tre frowned. “Everyone gets the same idea. I have no interest in seeing my brothers have sex. Besides they’re both interested in women.”
Gregory shrugged. “Sorry.”
Sighing, Tre pulled Gregory’s head back onto his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. Let’s just say more than one man has mentioned the possibility.”
Gregory stroked Tre’s arm trying to soothe the man. Apparently even stunningly gorgeous people had insecurities.
Tre’s fingers dipped beneath the covers and for the first time Gregory realized he was still wearing his underwear.
“Why do I still have my undies on?”
Tre’s deep laughter reverberated in Gregory’s ear. “Because nothing happened.”
Gregory pulled away with a gasp. “What do you mean nothing happened?”
Tre scowled at him. “You were definitely drunk or something. There was no way I could leave you at the bar and I certainly wasn’t going to have sex with you when all you could do was go on about my eyes and how much you wanted me to fuck you.”
He could feel the blush warming his cheeks. Damn. He really needed to remember to think before he said anything. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scooting back over and snuggling against Tre’s chest. Sliding his cheek against the smooth skin he let out a soft sigh. Inhaling Tre’s natural scent made his cock harder than steel. Damn the man smelled good. Sliding his nose up to Tre’s neck he gave another sniff. Cinnamon.
Jerking his head back he met Tre’s amused gaze. “You smell like cinnamon.”
“That’s because while you were lazing in bed I was making sugar cookies.”
Gregory frowned. “Why are you making cookies first thing in the morning?”
“Because I promised Deuce I’d bring cookies to the party tonight and if I don’t make them this morning and let the dough chill they’ll be melty blobs instead of pretty cookies.”
“You bake?” Something about the tall sexy man baking tickled Gregory.
“I don’t know that making sugar cookies really qualifies as being a baker but I can follow a recipe. Besides this is my mother’s recipe and I’ve been making it since I was a child.”
“Huh.” Gregory tried to recollect the last time he made sugar cookies. “I can’t remember.”
“Can’t remember what?”
Tre tilted Gregory’s head up and kissed him. Or at least that’s what an impartial observer would think. However, from Gregory’s point of view the man turned his body into mush. Melting against Tres, Gregory opened his mouth and let the other man inside.
“Mmm,” he murmured against Tre’s lips. Damn, he’d have to go visit Santa every year if this is what the big guy brought him.
Tre gently broke from the kiss. “What can’t you remember?”
“Huh,” Gregory blinked at the gorgeous guy in bed at him. Why were they talking? He wanted more kissing, and licking and really the number of things he wanted to do to the sexy man was longer than Santa’s nice list.
Tre’s lush mouth tilted at the corner. “You can’t remember, what?”
“Oh, the last time I made cookies.” Gregory dived in for another kiss only to be held back by Tre’s strong grip.
“What!” he whined at the lack of contact.
Tre laughed. “Don’t act like I’m depriving you of your favorite toy.”
“You are. Now gimme.” Gregory pouted.
“Very pretty.” Tre bit Gregory’s bottom lip sending a zing through his body. A soft ding went off somewhere in the house and he gasped as Tre dumped him on his back. “That’s my cookies.”
As Gregory lay in bed, hard and wanting, the sexy god of his dreams scurried out of the room with a massive hard-on that Gregory really wanted to taste.
Folding his arms, he glared at the ceiling. “That better be the smallest sugar cookie batch in the history of cookie making.”
Gregory lay on the bed for a couple of minutes until boredom kicked in. He desperately wanted to see what Tre was up to and besides he needed to use the bathroom in the worse way. He slid out of bed and wiggled his toes in the plush carpet. He didn’t even know they sold carpet this nice.
Since Tre went out the door across from him, Gregory quickly deduced which one must be the bathroom. Pleased with his detective skills, he stumbled into the bathroom and stopped.
The bathroom was like one of those designer magazines. The ones regular people shake their heads over because no one really has a bathroom like that and you know it’s only there to make you feel inferior over the mold colony trying to intimidate you out of your shower.
Gregory tilted his head, almost certain he’d heard a choir of angels as he entered the room. The damn thing was almost bigger than his apartment bedroom. The tub had jets on the sides and could easily fit four people. “Fuck, you can have an orgy in there.” Then the image of Tre cavorting naked with several other men burst into his head and made him queasy.
Shit! He was becoming way too attached to a man he’d known for all of a morning and one possibly drugged evening.
Gregory quickly did his business and returned to the bedroom. He contemplated putting on clothes but Tre called from the other room.
“Did you get up, babe? Come join me in here.”
Shrugging, he gave up the clothing hunt and followed the sound of Tre’s voice. The kitchen smelled of buttery, sugary goodness. Memories of rolling out dough and decorating lopsided Santas filled his head.
When was the last time he’d celebrated Christmas in a traditional manner. Last year he’d gone to Hawaii with some friends, back when he had a solid job and knew where his last meal came from.
Tre gave him a blinding smile when he approached. Gregory laughed.
“Do you know you have powdered sugar on your nose?”
Stepping closer, he gave as squeak as Tre wrapped an arm around Gregory and yanked him close. Before he could object, the gorgeous man rubbed their noses together. After a quick kiss, he released Gregory with a satisfied smile.
“There now we’re a matched set.”
Gregory shook his head as he looked at the gorgeous model. “Somehow I doubt we’ll ever be a matched set.” You don’t match a god with an ordinary mortal. Shaking the sad thoughts from his head and determined to enjoy the time he had to spend with Tre, he turned to look at the cookies spread out to cool.
Tilting his head he gave them a second look. “Is that Santa wearing a penis hat?”
A closer investigation revealed reindeers doing naughty things to each other and a pair of elves enjoying themselves in a very non-elfish way.
“Do you like them? I have a friend who’s a metal smith. He made them for me last year.”
Gregory turned back to Tre. A smile tilted the sexy man’s mouth.
“I think you’ve sullied a sacred childhood memory,” Gregory said, shaking his head.
Tre threw back his head and laughed. “I’d love to sully some more Christmas memories. I’ve got a wicked Santa hat.”