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Laramie hissed as one of Trace s lubed fingers penetrated him.
Oh, fuck, he muttered, rocking, trying to get the finger deeper.
Trace s grin turned feral with lust. That s the idea.
When, ugh. Laramie gritted his teeth in concentration for a
few seconds before he found his voice again. When did you
you bring the lube d-down?
Okay, it wasn t eloquent, but at least he got the question out.
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Trace slipped in a second finger and rubbed across his prostate,
making Laramie howl, before he answered. When you made hot
chocolate a couple hours ago, he whispered. I told you I wanted
your ass.
It took a second for Laramie to even remember what the
question was, then he nodded. Yours. Always yours.
Good, Trace growled the word as he pressed a third thick
digit into Laramie s hole.
Laramie rocked on Trace s fingers, enjoying the feeling of
fullness, the pressure on his internal walls. His cock tapped
against his stomach, stringing the oozing pre-cum, painting spider
webs of clear fluid across his abs.
Pleassse, he hissed, desperately wanting, needing more.
Peering through lids at half-mast, Laramie watched as Trace
tore open a condom with his teeth and rolled the rubber on with
one hand. Laramie bit back a protest when Trace pulled his
fingers from his ass. The empty feeling was short-lived, for Trace
lined up his cock and pushed. Laramie sighed, his eyes dropping
closed, as Trace filled him with one long, smooth thrust.
Look at me, Trace ordered gruffly.
Laramie snapped his eyes back open and stared up into the
heated gaze of his lover. Trace rested Laramie s legs in the crooks
of his arms and leaned close, thrusting his tongue in deep over
and over, copying what his dick was doing to his ass. Laramie
gripped his lover s shoulders, holding on tight for the ride, loving
the way Trace worked his body, especially when Trace reached
between them and pinched one beaded nipple.
Grunting into the kiss, Laramie arched. So good, he panted,
wrenching his mouth away from Trace s dominating kiss.
Trace grinned. He moved his hands to grip Laramie s thighs,
lifting him and spreading him wide. Grab your cock, babe.
Stroke yourself off. Let me see you come all over your chest.
Oh, yeah, Laramie muttered. He slid his hand between them.
Wrapping his prick in a tight grip, he jerked himself off steadily.
Between his hand on his dick, the feral possessive heat in Trace s
eyes devouring Laramie as he looked upon him, and Trace s thick
shaft spearing him and pressing against his gland on every thrust,
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Piggyback
it only took a moment to tumble right over the edge into bliss.
His chute clenched tight around Trace s dick as his cock shot
stream after stream of seed. Trace grunted above him, and
Laramie watched as a look of pleasure-pain crossed his lover s
features. His sexy man s body tensed, then jerked above him, and
Laramie felt the dick in his ass thicken slightly before warm seed
filled his rectum, held captive by a thin layer of latex. Seconds
later, Trace unwound his arms from Laramie s legs and settled on
top of him, some of his weight held on his elbows where they
rested on either side of his head.
Laramie petted his lover s sweaty back, reveling in the
powerful muscles that twitched beneath his fingers. As Laramie
came down from his endorphin high, he wondered what it d be
like to be filled by Trace without the condom.
Trace pulled his softening prick from Laramie s hole. Laramie
grunted as the sensation he always found odd pulled him from
his thoughts. His lover heaved a sigh and dropped to the rug next
to him. Using a few tissues from a box on an end table, Trace
wrapped the condom up and set it aside to be thrown away later.
Rolling back over, Trace pulled Laramie back against his chest
and sighed. Laramie hummed along with the Christmas carol
playing on the radio, smiling happily at being held by his lover as
the afterglow slowly dispersed. The twinkling lights of the small
tree they d decorated caught Laramie s eye.
He craned his head so he could meet Trace s gaze. Trace lifted
a brow, silently entreating him to ask away. So, what is that tree
for?
A corner of Trace s lip lifted in a sad smile. Every year, I take
my grandmother a tree.
I thought your grandmother was, well, that she d passed
away, trying to amend his words so they didn t seem quite so
insensitive.
Trace nodded. She did. I sit beside her grave and tell her
about my year. He smirked down at Laramie. Don t worry. I
don t expect any answers back or anything, but it s nice to talk just
the same.
She would have been proud of the man you ve become,
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Laramie said firmly, rubbing his lover s chest.
Smiling, Trace glanced down at him before looking toward the
tree. I d like you to come with me this year. Will you do that?
Laramie s brows shot up. That was the last thing he d expected.
He smiled as a pleasant glow filled him and he snuggled closer to
his lover. I d love to, he whispered.
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Epilogue
Christmas Day
They traipsed through the thin layer of snow. It had snowed
the night before, not much, just a dusting, but it still made
everything beautiful. Trace carried his little three-foot tree in one
hand and gripped Laramie s fingers tightly in the other.
Trace hadn t known why he d invited Laramie, but it had just
felt right, and Trace often went with his gut. He smiled faintly. It
still felt right. Laramie was his future, and Trace wanted to share
everything with him. It was an interesting feeling, one he d never
felt before, but one he really, really enjoyed.
Giving his lover s hand a squeeze, Trace led the way between
grave markers. He d almost reached his grandmamma s when a
cold voice snarled, Why couldn t you have died in the fire? Or
paid dad the money? How come you had to fuck up all our
plans?
He turned and found Lane standing behind them, a crazed
look in his eyes. That wouldn t have been so bad, except he held a
gun and pointed it straight at his lover.
I don t know what dad told you, Lane, Laramie said
reasonably. But the farm isn t dad s anymore. He sold his half to
Uncle Damian almost a decade ago.
Uncle Damian cheated dad. He didn t pay him half what the
farm is worth! Lane yelled.
Trace glanced around surreptitiously. Although he saw others
in the cemetery, none of them were close. He racked his brain,
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trying to figure out how to buy some time. Hey, you mind if I
put this tree down? he asked, getting Lane s attention away from
his lover. It s getting kind of heavy.
Lane just glared at him. Trace took that as a yes. Letting go of
his lover s hand, Trace slowly dropped to one knee and put the
tree down. The position put one hand behind a headstone. Trace
pushed his hand into his pocket and hit one on his phone s speed
dial, praying Vincent would pick up at nine AM on Christmas
morning.
Slowly, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and stood back up.
Why do you need the money, Lane? he asked. We heard your
father had a good job at an investing firm. You re an apprentice to
an electrician, which isn t too shabby either, he pointed out.
Why would you break the law, Lane? Why track us down in the
cemetery?
I don t make enough to pay back my dad s debts, Lane
muttered, almost like he was talking to himself. He lost so much
when he made those bad stock deals. For just a second, Lane
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