Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,46

if you’re loud, you know.”

“Or awake,” I say through gritted teeth.

Kissing him goodnight for the tenth time tonight, I back out of the room with the stocking hidden behind my back.

I make my way down the stairs to the lounge. It’s warm and light with a fire burning brightly. Asa looks up from his position on the rug where he’s crouched over the toy garage that he’s been trying to put together for the last three hours.

“Was he asleep?” he asks, his eyes twinkling from behind his glasses.

I fling myself down on the nearest sofa to him. “Nope,” I say glumly. “He was nearly there, and I almost dropped the stocking off, but then he caught me.”

He grins. “He’s got ears like a bat.”

“And a mind like a steel trap,” I observe. “I’m sure he’s onto me. I told him I was looking for the remote control.”

He laughs. “Why the fuck would he have it?”

“Asa, don’t tease. I’m not an actor like you. My reactions are always honest and straightforward.”

He shakes his head and hands me my glass of wine. “Have a drink.”

“If I have any more I’ll stumble into his bedroom singing ‘Last Christmas.’”

“If it’s anything like your rendition of ‘There’s a Worm at the Bottom of the Garden’, you’ll scar him for life.”

I sip my drink and eye the garage. “Any further along, dear, in your quest to build the unbuildable?”

He groans. “Motherfucking toys. I swear I could have built an actual house myself before I finished this.”

“God help us if our house was anything like that,” I say, eyeing the rather sad-looking garage. I tilt my head to one side. “Is it my imagination or is it…?”

“Lopsided? Yes,” he says gloomily. “And look.” He holds out his hand. “I’ve only got one piece to put in, but I’ve still got all these screws. Do you think it’s okay?”

I grimace. “I’m sure it’s fine,” I say comfortingly. “If it falls down we’ll just tell him it’s subsidence.”

Bright sunlight on my face wakes me. “Ungh, we forgot to shut the curtains,” I groan, rolling over and burying my head in Asa’s shoulder.

“I honestly didn’t think we’d be asleep long enough to be bothered by the sun. Billy’s slept late,” he says in his rough early morning voice. He shifts next to me, and a certain part of me wakes up instantly at having the awesomeness of all his naked skin rubbing against mine.

“Hmm,” I say contemplatively and send my fingers out, exploring the broad width of his hair-roughened chest. “What do we have here?”

“Same as every day,” he says wryly. “Just little old me.”

“Hardly little.” I skim my fingers down the length of his morning erection, and he inhales sharply.

“I’m not sure we’ve got time…” He groans as my hand encircles his cock and starts a slow glide.

“You were saying?” I ask, squinting at him. He’s lying back on his pillow, his long hair everywhere. His chin is rough with his morning beard and his eyes sleepy. He looks bloody delicious.

“Nothing,” he says, gasping and arching up towards my hand. “Shit, Jude, that’s really good.”

“I know,” I say smugly. “It’s all in the hand action.” I let go of his cock, and he makes a protesting noise, but I roll over onto him and straddle his legs. “I think I need to inspect your chimney,” I say throatily.

His eyes crease in amusement. “I’m not role-playing Father Christmas, whatever you say.”

I pout and then grin. “Oh well, I’ll just have to find another game to play.”

I smile wickedly and, drawing the duvet over my head, I inch down his body, dropping kisses on the sleek, tight skin.

“Umm,” he purrs, pushing his hand through my curls that are almost back to their previous length. “Did I say how much I love your hair being long again?”

“Only several hundred times,” I murmur.

He lifts the duvet to look down at me. “You’ll suffocate.”

“Tell my mother I died doing what I love,” I advise him.

He laughs loudly, but I stop that by taking the head of his cock into my mouth and sucking it. I inhale and catch the early morning muskiness of his groin. It makes my mouth water.

“God,” he groans. “That’s so… shit!”

I raise my head. “I beg your pardon?” I say, my voice muffled by the duvet.

“Shit,” he says again loudly just as I hear the bang of the bedroom door slamming open. “Billy!” Asa’s voice is quite high. “I didn’t hear you come up the stairs.”

“Maybe Father Christmas sprinkled magic