A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,59

pulled out a plain black one.

His phone pinged again. This time, however, it was a link. The first four words of the title said it all: lap-dancer-gets-fucked…

Robin grinned. I can watch while I get dressed, right?

“I don’t know if you came here with a purpose tonight,” Dean said as he stood aside to let Robin enter the house. “We could watch a movie.” Yeah, like they’d seen so much of the last one. Dean made a mental note to get the removable seat covers cleaned before Sunday. Kris’s eagle eyes missed nothing, even a cum-stain Dean was positive he’d gotten rid of.

And as for a movie, Dean had other plans for the evening.

“I don’t mind what we do.” Robin removed his coat and hung it up.

Dean was momentarily stunned into silence. He cleared his throat. “Okay, for the record? You can wear black as often as you like.”

Robin beamed. “You like it, huh?” His gaze flickered downward, and he chuckled. “Oh, you do.”

Dean was not about to have his plans for the evening derailed. Not that the idea of peeling off those tight-as-fuck jeans that clung to Robin’s slim hips and eating that hot little ass didn’t appeal to him. Not to mention sucking on Robin’s hard little nipples.

Down boy.

“I was a little surprised to get your text. Not that I mind you coming over, but I’ll be spending a whole weekend with you. And we’re going skiing in less than forty-eight hours.” He grinned. “You’re getting greedy.”

Robin nodded as he walked over to him, his shirt open at the collar, revealing a black tee beneath. “And right now you need to feed me kisses.”

Dean had plenty of those.

“Come here, beautiful.” He pulled Robin into his arms and held him close, breathing him in. “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly. God knew that was the truth. It wasn’t just the sex, the kisses, the caresses.

He’d missed Robin’s laughter, the faces he pulled, his wit, his snark…

Dear God, I’ve got it bad, haven’t I?

Robin’s hands were on his face as he drew Dean down into a kiss that had his engine revving in a heartbeat. It was a struggle to put on the brakes, but Dean did it, breaking their kiss.

“You know when we had that long chat about sex the other day?”

Robin grinned. “Sure, Teacher.”

Dean laughed. “Forget about what’s in your jeans for a sec. I’m being serious here.” Robin straightened his features, but there was still a wicked glint in his eyes. “Okay, another part of real-life sex is making compromises.”

“Is that when I wanna do doggy and you wanna do missionary?” Robin snaked his hands around Dean’s waist, and Dean reached back to grasp him firmly by the wrists, pulling Robin’s hands to his sides.

“You are incorrigible.”

Robin gave him a cocky smile. “Is that another word for horny?”

Dean kissed the tip of his nose. “Compromise means there might be nights when your engine is revving—like now, obviously—but mine wants to shut down.”

Robin blinked. “Oh.”

Dean gave a slow nod. “Now you’re getting it. And I’m not saying I don’t want to take you upstairs to bed—because God knows, I want that—but I have something I need to do this evening, and I was hoping you’d help.”

“What is it? How can I help?”

Dean crooked his finger. “Step this way.” He led Robin into his small dining room, where he’d laid out the boxes, glue, tubes of glitter and card he’d need.

Robin’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow. What are you making?”

“Christmas cards. I always make my own.” Dean opened one of the boxes to reveal the cutouts of reindeer, Santa, snowflakes, Christmas trees and baubles. In another box he had cotton wadding for snow, and sheets of rhinestone gem stickers that he used as tree lights. There was also gold ribbon and twine, and anything else Dean could think of. Then he opened the wooden box containing his stamps and ink pads.

“You have everything,” Robin declared in obvious delight. He pulled back a chair and sat, surveying the supplies and smiling.

Dean chuckled. “I guess this means you want to help.”

“Of course. How many are we making?”

Dean joined him, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I have a list.”

“I think this is awesome.” Robin let out a happy sigh.

“And probably nothing like what you had planned when you chose that ensemble,” Dean commented wryly.

Robin bit his lip. “Can I be honest?”

Dean put down his phone and reached across the table to cover Robin’s hand with his. “I thought we agreed—no more ‘skiing