Free ChristmasInHisHeart by Lee Brazil, Havan Fellows Page A

caused him pain and prevented him from truly living. Xander wanted to be the one he confided in, wanted to show Dermot how good it could be between them—not only physically but completely.
    He cupped Dermot’s face in his hands. “I dream about all the nefarious acts we can entangle ourselves in under the blankets…but I also dream about spreading out on the couch with you watching a movie while we munch on popcorn and talk about our day to each other. I have hopes that one day when you create a new recipe, you’ll call me up and insist I rush over to try it, or when a sappy song comes on the radio I’m the one that fills your thoughts.”
    Their lips met in the softest kiss imaginable. “I’m not asking for the world from you, Dermot…not yet. Just equal time in your mind, like you have in mine.”
    A bird squawked in the distance and the cat started pacing between the two men’s legs, making a gallant effort to rub up and down both of them simultaneously, and Xander stood with his heart in his throat, waiting for some sort of sign or answer.
    “I don’t…there are things…the lights…” Dermot gestured to the buildings, and even though there were no lights out back there, Xander understood.
    Which was why he purposely steered clear of any reference about Christmas. That was obviously a hot button with his chef that probably shouldn’t be pushed until their footing together became more secure.
    A part of Xander itched to demand reasons now, of course. Hell, Dermot blurted out that he wasn’t a grinch…who wouldn’t be curious about his exclamation?
    A gust of wind blew through the back alley and reminded Xander he was freezing. He shook his head, the things you forget when your attention was on a hot man.
    “We need to get inside and warm up some.”
    Xander snorted at the face Dermot gave him.
    “Seriously.” Xander raised his hands in a nothing-up-my-sleeves gesture. “We can even go get coffee since Alimentaire is closed, if that makes you feel more comfortable,” he offered, even though he didn’t prefer that idea.
    Dermot straightened his posture and bristled at Xander—obviously not appreciating the insinuation hidden behind Xander’s suggestion. “I would never air my personal life in my restaurant or the public for all to see.”
    Xander followed him inside the open doorway, once again taking the opportunity to admire the strong flexing muscles on display in front of him. It started as a simple drool worthy place for his gaze to fall…but observing Dermot’s muscles clenching and releasing with every stair he climbed…Xander’s cock swelled to ready-set-go proportions and was accompanied by a throb that would send any blood pressure monitor into hysterical beeping.
    My god, I’m addicted to his ass.
    He couldn’t help it, his mind went there and pictured Dermot plowing into him, alternating his strokes—Dermot would enter him in one quick hard thrust, but then he’d linger there for a moment before languidly pulling out, making sure Xander felt every inch of his retreat just to slam back in without hesitation. God, his ass would clench with each forward plunge…
    “You wanted to talk? Or have you decided it’s not necessary?”
    Xander blinked. Shit, he was still in the stairway, gazing up the dozen steps or so at Dermot who held open his apartment door.
    Huh? “What do you mean not necessary?” Dermot suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye, and that bugged the hell out of Xander. “What did you mean?” he asked again, more forcefully this time.
    He thought the shrug would be his only answer, but then Dermot spoke. “I meant I’d understand if you decided we didn’t need to talk, that’s all.”
    Xander nodded as he took the rest of the steps two at a time, stopping at the top and invading Dermot’s personal space. “Oh, I understand. You, on the other hand, seem to have no clue, which is quite discouraging considering all the hints I’ve shoved in your