The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

Sam’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “My costume?”

I coughed, tugging at my collar as my gaze wandered the surprisingly pristine garage. Other than the rack of bicycles and a basket filled with various sports equipment, everything else must have been concealed behind the banks of white cabinetry. I studied the spokes on a beach cruiser and tried to think of a segue that wouldn’t make me babble.

“Halloween isn’t my favorite, but I do appreciate a good costume. I’ve had a few winners over the years. A police officer, a pirate, Superman, a taco…” Nope. I couldn’t do it.

“A taco?”

“Yes, it was made of moon-shaped cardboard and felt pieces for the toppings. I hated it, but it won an award in my elementary school parade that year. I believe I was in third grade.”

Sam moved closer. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. I was jealous of Lorne Jacobs, who, in addition to having a great name, was always a firefighter. Strange thing to remember, but I like…uniforms,” I admitted, wincing at my lack of cool. “Past tense. Okay, that’s a lie. I actually think uniforms can be quite titillating. Is that the right word? No, perhaps not. To titillate is to provoke or arouse or—”

He cupped my chin and gently brushed his thumb over my lips. “Arouse?”

“Yes, but…”

“I have a question for you, Chet. It’s a little personal and probably very inappropriate.”

I swallowed hard. “What is it?”

“Are you aroused right now?”

I nodded so fast, I made myself dizzy. “Very much so, and I don’t know why.”

“Mmm. You’re stuck on my story about blowing the quarterback.”

“I am. That’s true. I don’t even know what a quarterback is, but you have the blowing part correct.” I pushed my glasses along my nose. “I have an insatiable curiosity when it comes to…”

“Sex,” he finished.

I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as if hoping it might somehow keep my erection from busting through my zipper. I’d been on pins and needles from the moment I walked into Sam’s house. I thought I’d done pretty well at hiding my attraction…until now. Everything about him revved my engine. The deep timbre of his voice, the gray at his temples and beard, the twinkle in his eyes, and all those glorious muscles. Knowing he was a devoted father and a good person elevated him in my estimation. And that was before he’d confirmed he was bisexual.

However, my current state might best be defined as a man on the verge of sexual combustion. Not good. I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to kiss me again or flatten me against the cabinets and have his way with me. I just knew I needed something to happen. Soon. I was already in danger of coming in my khakis, for crying out loud.

“Yes. I—sex is good,” I agreed in a shaky tone.

“Very good.”

“Do you want…”

He stepped closer still. We were toe to toe now. I could feel the heat from his body and his breath on my lips. But he was somehow too far away.

“Do I want…what?” Sam prodded.

Okay, this was where I rescued my mission and asked something sensible, like “Do you want to discuss a holiday budget?” to get us back on track.

Except that wasn’t what came out of my mouth. I licked my lips, practically teetering on my heels in a daze when I whispered, “Do you want to touch me?”

Sam

Was that a trick question?

If so, the short answer was Fuck, yes.

I didn’t just want to touch Chet, though. I wanted my hands all over him. It frustrated the hell out of me to only have the use of one. But I could do good things with this one hand.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” I whispered.

I traced the seam of his mouth, trailing my fingers down his throat, along the buttons of his shirt before hooking my fingers in his belt loop. I yanked him close, loving his sharp intake of breath when his erection collided with mine.

“There…right there,” he moaned.

I pressed my open palm over his crotch and squeezed. There was far too much fabric in the way, but I did my best to wrap my fingers around his shaft. His eyes fluttered shut as he licked his lips.

“Like that?”

“Mmm. More, please.”

I smiled. “Good boy. I like those manners. Unzip yourself and pull your cock out. Let me see you.”

Chet blinked in surprise behind his thick glasses. “You want me to…get naked?”

“Buck naked isn’t necessary. Just your dick. I’d help you, but…I’ve got one arm tied here.” I tilted my head to my left meaningfully.

“Right. Um…okay.” He locked his gaze on mine while he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned, and unzipped. He froze for a moment with his thumbs under the elastic of his boxer briefs.

My nostrils flared as desire flooded my veins. It was probably for the best that I wasn’t fully mobile. I wanted him too much. And honestly, I was shocked by how quickly the feeling had consumed me. Jesus, weren’t we just talking about a taco costume?