There was Noah’s—well, Thomas’s really—bow, stuck squarely on the chest of his insanely hot husband.
It wasn’t all Adam wore, but almost. He also wore skin-tight red boxer briefs trimmed with white fur hugging his upper thighs, and a waistband made to look like Santa’s belt sat low on his hips. Three black buttons ran down the front, highlighting his already hard cock. Adam was reclined on the bed, a Santa hat perched on his head, that ridiculous bow slapped between his pecs.
“Wanna unwrap your gift early?”
Noah let his eyes linger despite himself. Adam was intimidatingly hot. Supermodel, K-pop star, actor-level hot. His abs were perfectly chiseled, the deep V of his hips so pronounced water could run down them like rivers. His skin was flawless, his husky blue eyes almost supernatural in certain light, his full lips still perfect. He looked smug about it, too—like he knew exactly how badly he’d just derailed Noah’s evening.
“We don’t have time for this,” Noah said, though there was no heat behind his words. If anything, they sounded suspiciously resigned.
“Too bad. I’m invoking the Santa Clause.”
“Come again?”
“Oh, I’m trying.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “What is the Santa Clause? Other than a tacky movie from our childhood?”
Adam gave him a smug look. “When we got together, you said that anytime I dressed up like Santa, you’d drop everything and do whatever you’re told.”
“I absolutely didn’t do that,” Noah said.
Adam began to pout. “How do you know? You totally could have. It sounds like you.”
“No, it sounds likeyou,” Noah mused.
“Is that a no?” Adam asked huffily, eyes already flicking down Noah’s body like he knew the answer.
Noah didn’t answer. He just crawled up the bed to straddle his husband’s hips. “No, it’s not a no, you big baby. You look hot. But you’re going to have to explain to Dad why we’re late.” Adam opened his mouth, but Noah pinched his lips shut. “In a way that doesn’t involve you giving the poor man graphic details about our sex life.”
Adam huffed. “Fine. I’ll say Dexter ate a Christmas ornament. Another Christmas ornament.”
“That works,” Noah said, saliva already pooling in his mouth at the way his husband’s abs shifted beneath his hand. The motion was deliberate—Adam showing off without even trying to hide it.
Noah carefully removed Thomas’s bow, tossing it to the floor on the opposite side of the bed where it wouldn’t be crushed by whatever happened next. Somehow, that felt like a line being crossed.
“Is this what you were doing while I was slaving away wrapping the dozen last-minute gifts you decided to purchase?”
“I had to keep you busy while I got ready,” Adam said.
“It took you two hours to put on a pair of underwear and a Santa hat?”
“No, I had to shower, manscape, make sure I was squeaky clean for you… everywhere.”
Noah gave him a flat look. “You’ve made me suck you off right after a workout, but today you took a two-hour ‘everything’ shower like a girl getting ready for a third date?”
“Made you?” Adam countered, giving him a smirk. “Aww, am I abusing you?”
When he reached out to pinch Noah’s cheek, Noah slapped his hand away, glowering at him. He refused to dignify that with an answer.
Adam didn’t need one apparently. “How many times have you begged me to fuck you just ’cause you saw me all sweaty? You’re the one with the perspiration kink, not me.”
Noah flushed but that didn’t stop his hips from settling more comfortably where Adam clearly wanted them.
Okay, so he wasn’t wrong. So what if he liked the way Adam smelled after a run. Was that a crime?
“Whatever,” Noah murmured.
“Mm,” Adam said. “I think it’s a pretty worthy trade-off. Don’t you?”
