Page 29 of The Humbug Holiday

We talked in bed for hours that night, covering everyday topics like music, movies, and concerts. Joe liked rock ‘n’ roll, adventure flicks, and claimed that the best concert he’d ever been to was David Bowie in Vegas in 2004.

“I’d just turned twenty-one and I wanted to celebrate with a bang in the city of sin. Quite the memorable weekend. I saw my hero live, popped my gay cherry, and won five thousand bucks at a roulette table,” Joe bragged.

“No way.”

“Way. It was an impromptu trip with college buddies that ended up being a milestone for the ages.”

“Sounds like it.” I ran my forefinger along his crease and bit his shoulder playfully as I peppered him with questions about traveling, his bi-ness, and his infatuation with Bowie.

I learned that in spite of his win, Joe had never gone back to Vegas and had never been to LA…which I thought was kind of crazy. He’d freely explored his attraction to men in college, and though he’d never officially come out at home, everyone knew.

“When you have nothing to lose, you can be anything you want. My dad was gone, I was too wild for my mom, and my uncle had health issues. I was smart in school, a demon on the ice, and a wild man in town. I was bulletproof and cocky as fuck. I’m sure they rolled their eyes in mock surprise… ‘Of course, Joe Linton is bi. The boy is a greedy bastard,’” he grumbled in a comical octogenarian voice.

I wanted to ask him what he had to lose now, but I liked this lighthearted banter, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood by digging too deep.

“And why Bowie?”

Joe furrowed his brow. “Is that a real question? Bowie was a fucking maestro.”

“I’ve always been more of a Mick Jagger fan myself,” I purred, tapping his entrance.

He pushed out of my arms and climbed over me so fast I let out an undignified “oomph” as he straddled my thighs.

“Jagger is cool, but Bowie…c’mon, man,” he chided, nipping my bottom lip as he swayed his ass over my suddenly interested cock. “Tell me I’m right.”

“Mmm. No, I—what are you doing?”

It was a stupid question. He leaned sideways and held up a condom. Ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it over my length, added lube, and slowly lowered himself. His expression was a gorgeous contortion of wanton pleasure with a touch of pain.

“I’m gonna take you for a ride.”

And he did.

He dug his knees into the mattress, gripped the headboard, and bounced like a champ while I stroked him. It was fast and dirty and sexy as fuck.

Sometime later, we showered, redressed, and raided the kitchen pantry for dinner or a midnight snack. I’d lost track of time. I only knew it was dark and probably snowing, and I didn’t want him to leave. It felt sweeter than it should have to cuddle up next to him with my arm draped over his hip and my knees tucked into his in bed. Joe must have agreed, because he stayed.

One night.

We ate breakfast in bed, chomping bacon while watching the snow fall and accumulate in wicked drifts in my yard.

Two nights.

We put on boots and shoveled snow. I’d relished the physical labor after days indoors. The pewter skies and three feet of snow did nothing to diminish my inexplicable joy. I blamed it on Joe. Hot sex with a gorgeous man…sign me up.

When the driveway and the path to my front door were cleared, he’d launched into a spiel about the importance of trimming the hedges and staying on top of home repairs. I’d nodded on cue, bending to grab a hunk of soft snow and fashion it into a perfect snowball.

I nailed him in the cheek and laughed like a hyena as he stoically swiped snow from his beard and sighed. “Game on.”

We’d raced around the front yard, hidden from the street by those huge hedges, and pummeled each other in an epic snow fight that ended with us naked in front of the fireplace in my office. The tree lights twinkled on his face and torso as I moved inside him till we were both warm and deliciously spent.

Three nights.

His favorite color was blue. Indigo blue.

“Like the deepest part of the ocean or the darkest strip of blue at twilight. If color was a tipping point, indigo is where truth is hidden or revealed.”

I’d stared after him when he gave me a thumbs-up and headed to the basement to sand the new casing…equal parts dumbfounded and enchanted.