The Counterfeit Claus (4 page)

Devon took a quick inventory. He’d learned a long time ago not to assume the feeling was mutual just because he was hot for someone. His sweet little mess—Adrien’s— pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin line of golden brown around them. He was taking short, shallow breaths, and ay-ay-ay, the hot little elf had enough wood in his tight shorts to keep Santa’s fires stoked for quite a while. The wash of heat flooding his body cranked up in intensity. He put his hands on the compact form in front of him just to feel those finely sculpted muscles flex under his fingers.

What had Adrien asked him? Oh, right… Adrien asked if he’d called the pocket sized beauty a mess. Devon gave his best lecherous grin and waggled his eyebrows at Adrien. “No. I mean, yeah, I did call you that, but not just a mess. I called you a hot mess.”

While he spoke, Devon slid the hands he’d wrapped around Adrien’s upper arms along the soft skin of the man’s biceps. Mierda, he wanted a bite of that caramel colored flesh. Curling his fingers around the back where Adrien’s triceps flexed and bunched under the hem of his short sleeved tee shirt he picked the smaller man up. Two steps put them at the end of the row of lockers. He turned and pressed Adrien’s back against the smooth metal side of the row. Adrien squeaked, his eyes enormous above his high cheeks bones. Devon spread his legs, bent slightly at the knees and pressed his chest hard against Adrien’s. Another jolt of heat flashed through him. Devon growled, and then fought to control his breathing. He refused to allow himself act like an animal. He would give the sexy little man a choice about what happened next.

He leaned down to breathe his words directly into Adrien’s ear. “I’m going to kiss you, hard and deep enough you’re still going to feel it tomorrow. After I’m done kissing you, you’re gonna help me fix this damn beard, and we’re going to go back out to the Village and make those kids believe we just spent a half an hour getting patched up by Mrs. Claus. And at the end of the day, I’m either going to walk you to your car, or I’m going to walk you to mine. If you come to my car, I’m going to put you in my Jeep, drive you to my place on Walnut Street, call off my other job and screw you until the only name you remember is mine because you’re so busy screaming it. If I walk you to your car, I’ll wait until you get it started and drive away. And that will be that. No—don’t speak now. After I kiss you, if you don’t want to come with me tonight, say mistletoe. Got it?”

Adrien’s head nodded, brushing his cheek against the line of Devon’s jaw. The silk of his brown and gold mop of hair brushed Devon’s temple. His stomach flexed where it pressed against Devon’s, and his legs—ay-ay— parted to wrap around Devon’s waist. He tilted his head back against the cool metal behind him and closed his eyes in a classic waiting-for-a-kiss pose. His long, dark lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, and the trusting pose sparked a feeling of possessiveness in Devon. He pulled Adrien forward enough to slip his arms behind the other man’s back. Crushing Adrien’s lithe form against his chest, he sealed his mouth over the sassy little elf’s lips.

Adrien’s chest stung where his cat had scratched him, his bottom was bruised from the earlier debacle with Andy, and his side throbbed something fierce from his most recent fall. Devon had one hand on his jaw though, massaging gently as the sexy man licked across the seam of Adrien’s lips. The cool metal at his back had warmed, and Devon’s other hand held a goodly portion of his left ass cheek.

Right in this moment, every single bite of pain just amped his arousal higher. Adrien moaned, opening his mouth for plundering. Devon made an indescribable noise—half chuckle, half moan and half growl. There were too many halves, and that made perfect sense, because the one thing Adrien was sure of was that this was entirely too much man for him. He wrapped his arms tightly around Devon’s neck. There really ought to be a way to crawl right into the man’s skin with him.

Devon lifted his head, lapping at Adrien’s lips in a barely there tease. Adrien growled, chasing the other man’s mouth. Devon pulled farther back, moving the hand on Adrien’s jaw around until he was tracing the damp line of Adrien’s lips with one finger. Adrien closed his mouth. He shot Devon a petulant look. Devon chuckled and pressed down on Adrien’s lower lip. Electricity arced through Adrien, bowing his back up and forcing a tiny whine out of his throat. He caught Devon’s finger in his mouth. A warm, slightly salty taste burst across his taste buds. He wanted more. Nownownownownow. He bit down lightly, liking the way Devon’s finger felt in his mouth. He licked around the base, right over the webbing between one finger and the next and then sucked Devon’s longer middle finger into the hot depths of his mouth. He bit down again, a touch harder.

Devon growled down at him, nostrils flaring as he fought to keep his breathing steady. His eyes, hot and dark, were almost wet looking as he snarled out the most possessive thing Adrien had ever heard and liked. “You are going to be mine.”

The words washed warmly over Adrien. He wanted that. He wanted to be naked in this man’s bed, with those big hands holding him down and pushing him high enough to burn like the center of the sun.

Damn it. The Anthropology exam was tomorrow. His timing always sucked. He released the big man’s finger reluctantly. “I sure hope so, but does it have to be tonight? Tonight doesn’t work for me at all. I have an exam tomorrow morning and I still have to study for it.”

He unlocked his ankles from where he’d hooked them together at the small of Devon’s back. Letting go of Devon felt wrong, and Adrien hurried to push words between them. “We’d better get your beard fixed. Our halfhour’s nearly over.”

Adrien pushed against Devon’s chest, his legs slipping down a fraction—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Devon’s hands grasped Adrien’s thighs, and he leaned in, pinning Adrien in place, a low moan slipping from him as his hips surged against Adrien.
“I—we have to get back to the village.” Adrien stared at Devon’s jaw as the words slipped breathlessly from his mouth. The muscles and—oh god—the tendons there flexed. Adrien’s mouth watered for a tiny nibble of the lightly tanned skin.
Silence slipped a thin, cold wall between them. Devon’s body held Adrien pinned against the locker as his hands loosened, sliding up the outsides of Adrien’s thighs. Devon’s hands laid a trial of fire all along Adrien’s sides as they traced a simmering trail of awareness up from hip to chest. He stopped there a moment. Adrien held his breath. Devon peeled his hands away long enough to grip Adrien’s upper arms again. He eased Adrien down until he stood on the floor, his own shaking legs all that held him up. Then Devon stepped back until there was half an arm’s length between them. Something dark and hurtful flitted across his face. He stepped farther back, the look solidifying into a lip curl and eyes narrowed to slits. “If you didn’t want me to touch you like that all you had to do was say so. Fuck, I gave you time.”
Shaking his head in denial, Adrien swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m not like this. I don’t wanna be the guy you fucked in the locker room at the mall, Devon. You’re hot, you’re wearing Drakkar—which is like, my favorite scent to jack-off to ever since Michael accidentally left a shirt some friend of his wore and left at Michael’s and then Michael left it at my house but that doesn’t matter now— and Oh. My. God. You just went all super-hero-actionfigure on me and saved me from getting hurt, or worse yet squishing one of those tiny minions of Doom out there into kid-jelly all over the floor of the mall. Don’t be stupid. Of course I want you. I just—I really do have an exam, and we have to get back to the Village. You’re filling in for Michael, okay. I need this job. This isn’t a fill in gig for me. I can’t afford to lose my rent money over one fuck from a hot guy.”
His stomach burned. Devon stopped backing away, his angry look softening. He nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wry curl. “Okay. I shouldn’t call off tonight anyway—we’re short staffed right now with all the student workers who went home for the holidays already.”
Everything in Adrien loosened. He ignored the feeling, tilting his head to the side like it would somehow give him a better perspective on what was happening. He used words in his best smoke and mirror style to deflect the vaguely questioning look in Devon’s eyes. “Give me a sec to get the spirit gum I keep in my locker… Michael lost his beard entirely one day, when a little girl decided to pull on it. It happened right at the end of our shift, and there weren’t that many kids around, but still… it was just awful. After that we both thought it would be better if we glued it down every day.”
Devon cocked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t say a word, just looked at Adrien straight on and waited.
Adrien flung his hands in the air, sidling around Devon to get to his locker. “What? I was well aware that I was gay in high school. The theater department was like a second home.”
If Devon’s dammed eyebrow climbed any farther up his forehead the freaking thing would be in danger of falling off the back of his head. Adrien bristled. “Oh, whatever—I could give two shits if the stereotypical nature of my being a gay boy who liked theater offends your manly sensibilities, Mr. Action-Hero.”
Devon choked, and then threw back his head to laugh, his teeth gleaming whitely against his honey colored skin. Watching the way the man laughed made Adrien’s heart hurt a little. The openness of his face and the strong line of his throat reached right in through the walls of Adrien’s chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed. Adrien’s breath caught in his throat. For just a second, he forgot everything but Devon again while his unruly cock screamed out a litany of gimme-gimme-gotta-gotta-have-itbay-beeeee. Adrien shuddered, and Devon caught the reaction as he finished laughing and lowered his chin to look back at Adrien.
Devon just watched him silently for a handful of heartbeats. Adrien thought he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from grabbing Devon’s face between his hands so he could hold the big man still while he kissed him again. Adrien’s mouth watered at the thought of licking the little divot on Devon’s chin. Right then, in the second before he moved, Devon walked over, tapped Adrien on the nose, and sat down on the bench between Adrien and the lockers. “Do your stuff, Mr. Theater. We really do need to get back out there asap. We can still make it so their parents have a shot at keeping this a good trip to see Santa for most of these kids… I wouldn’t want them to have bad memories about Christmas because of me.”
Devon’s voice dropped a little at the end of his little speech, and Adrien knew. Somebody somewhere had fucked up Santa for this guy, and for whatever reason the hurt had been big enough, or important enough to linger well into his adulthood. Adrien let his eyes wander a meandering path from the tousled top of Devon’s head to the tips of his shiny black boots. The urge to peel the man out of his shiny red suit and lick all the points in between those boots and then along his chiseled jaw to his dimpled chin left Adrien flushed with a wild mix of anger, sorrow and yearning. Maybe there was a way to make whatever it was up to Devon? Adrien kept his questions about who’d messed Santa up for Devon on hold for the moment. This was not the time, nor the place. Hopefully he’d get another chance to ask them.

Devon sat still, letting Adrien apply the spirit gum to his face, and press the beard down. Adrien stood between his spread thighs, his lean hands moving delicately over Devon’s face. With the younger man intent on his task, Devon took advantage of the opportunity to observe him closely. Adrien’s lashes were tipped with gold, and he had the faintest smattering of freckles across his nose. Devon’s stomach lurched as he realized that in another few hours he’d be parting company with Adrien. He might never get a chance to really map those freckles, not unless Adrien gave him permission. Adrien was the Hottie McHotpants he’d been obsessing over since the first time he saw him. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he’d been intrigued ever since the first story Rose had told about Adrien. He had to get Adrien to commit to going out on a date with him. His breath hitched as Adrien leaned closer. Then the brush of Adrien’s firm thigh against the sensitive spot on the side of his knee shot a flash of heat through him.

Devon blurted out the first reasonable word he could dredge from a brain rapidly losing blood to points south. “When?”

Adrien’s head jerked back. As he met Devon’s gaze, his brows lifted. “When what?”
Devon groaned. Oh, suave. He’d only blurted out the one word. Way to sound like a freak of nature. “When can I see you again?”
A little smile tipped the corner of Adrien’s firm little mouth up. “You’re seeing me now, Devon. We’re in the middle of a shift. You’re going to be seeing me for several more hours.”
Devon lifted his hands up, resting them lightly on Adrien’s sides and giving him a little shake. “Don’t be deliberately obtuse, Adrien. When can I take you out? You know, on a date?”
Adrien’s mouth made a sweet little “O”, all pink and luscious looking. Devon met his eyes, tightening his fingers fractionally on Adrien’s sides before he continued. “I wanna take you out. You can ask Rose—Michael, about me. He’ll vouch for me. I was his squad leader, you know? The man lived practically in my pocket for two years. You ask him anything you want to know. I’ll tell him it’s okay to tell you the answer to anything you wanna know.”
Adrien’s lashes dipped down as he listened. He drew in a fast breath, peeping out from underneath those thick lashes. “I know about you. Michael used to write me letters. He said you were an okay guy, and if I ever got around to wanting to settle down I should steer clear of you, but if I just wanted to play, you were the go-to guy.”
A jolt of something lava hot and sharper than the edge of his bayonet cut into the center of Devon’s chest. “Rose said that?”
Adrien opened his eyes wide. “Yeah, and I’m not looking to settle down—but I wouldn’t mind playing with you for a bit… just not in a locker room at work, you know, and not tonight. I have that exam tomorrow.”
A thin wire of hurt cut into Devon’s throat like a skillfully applied garrote, choking the words he’d been meaning to say to Adrien. He closed his eyes. “Okay. Maybe give me your number before we leave tonight, and I’ll call you sometime.”
Those weren’t the impulsive, baby-be-mine words that had been scratching to get out of his throat just minutes before. And maybe that was for the best.