A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,55

the time he heard the water shut off above his head, he was ready. A deep red paper napkin was folded neatly beside the silverware. The opened bottle of white wine in the refrigerator stood on the table, along with a wine glass. The centerpiece was an empty blue glass bottle, with a candle stuck in its neck.

Perfect. Well, as perfect as Robin could make it.

“Oh my.” Dean stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater. “This looks amazing.”

Robin glanced down, and quickly jerked his head up. Did he have to go commando? There was no missing Dean’s long dick that tented the soft grey fabric.

“Does that look good too?” Dean’s eyes twinkled.

Aw, crap. Busted.

The microwave pinged, and Robin cleared his throat. “Sit. I’ll dish it up.” Anything to avoid staring at Dean’s crotch. And now he was positive Dean had gone commando on purpose.

Not that Robin was complaining—he just hated getting caught in the act of ogling.

Dean surveyed the table as he sat. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said quietly. He met Robin’s gaze. “And I love it.”

Okay, that look right there was worth the indigestion he’d suffered through wolfing down his dinner in a hurry to see Dean.

Dean gestured to an empty chair. “Sit and talk to me while I eat. Tell me what you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”

That was easy. Thinking about you.

The movie was okay, not that Robin was concentrating all that hard. He was too busy relishing the feel of Dean’s hand on his thigh, gently stroking it. It was an intimate gesture, but not one carried out with any real intent: Dean’s focus was on the screen.

Robin would have been happy to sit like that all evening. Lady lay curled up in the armchair, Loki beside her. He had to smile at that. Maybe the little furball is growing on her.

Dean hit Pause. “Is this grabbing you at all?”

Robin smiled. “I’m enjoying being here with you.” He meant every word.

Dean studied him for a moment. “I’ve thought about you a lot these last couple of days.”

“Good thoughts, I hope.” The intense scrutiny made the muscles in Robin’s abs quiver, and deep in his belly, something fluttered. Talk about butterflies…

Dean’s slow smile sent a pang through Robin’s chest. “Very good,” Dean said at last. Then Robin shivered as Dean leaned over to kiss him, his hand rubbing Robin’s pecs. Robin cupped Dean’s nape, and tilted his head to give him better access. Dean slid his hands over Robin’s upper body as they kissed, and Robin couldn’t stop touching him, his breathing quickening with each light caress.

“This okay?”

Robin sighed happily. “This is really okay.”

“Good.” Dean kissed his neck. “Because I have been thinking about doing this ever since you called.”

“Then how about less talking and more kissing?”

Dean chuckled against his neck, and it tickled. “We need to talk about this bossy streak of yours.” Then all talk ceased as they kissed, and Robin’s heartbeat moved into a higher gear. He didn’t hold back, giving as good as he got, until it wasn’t only him making appreciative noises. That was all kinds of gratifying.

“Fuck, you get more receptive each time we do this,” Dean murmured against his lips.

Robin stilled. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Dean laughed quietly. “A very, very good thing.” He slid a hand under Robin’s sweater, moving it higher, his fingertips trailing over Robin’s abs and making them twitch. When he reached Robin’s nipple and tweaked it between thumb and forefinger, Robin groaned. “Fuck yeah. Like that,” Dean whispered, his lips soft against Robin’s neck.

Robin couldn’t tell which was turning him on more—Dean’s kisses or his fingers. He only knew he didn’t want it to end.

He shifted lower, sliding his ass toward the edge of the seat cushion, and Dean caught hold of Robin’s thigh, gently spreading him, hooking his leg over Dean’s.

Oh fuck. Robin’s heart pounded at the thought of what was coming.

“Want me to stop?” Dean asked.

Robin gaped at him. “You’re kidding, right?” This was all good.

Dean laughed. “Just checking.” Then he took Robin’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

Except now, the kisses had real heat. Dean’s hands were in constant motion, stroking Robin’s neck, his chest, his belly. Robin pushed his head back into the soft seat cushion, his breath catching when Dean kissed his neck again. “Oh fuck… when you do that…”

Dean slid his hand leisurely down Robin’s body, until he reached Robin’s crotch. He molded his fingers around Robin’s