Page 98 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

I chug half the water down as he fills the kettle and switches it on.

“How’s your mum doing?” I lean back against the counter and set my glass down beside me.

“She’s good, recovered from the surgery well. She has her support group once a week and a councillor she can call if she needs to. I’m going to call to check in with her a couple of times a week. It’s a work in progress, but the good news is, Trev has once again become a permanent fixture.”

My eyes narrow in suspicion. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently, “but I may have planted a few seeds. Now we’ll see if they grow.”

“What seeds?”

“I might have pointed out a couple of things to Mam that she may have been a little oblivious to.”

“You really shouldn’t interfere,” I say softly.

It’s such a Sam thing to do though. Wanting to take care of everyone around him and make sure they’re happy.

“I would’ve thought you’d stay and see the new year in with your mum.”

He shakes his head. “She knew I wanted to come back to London and said she wanted to start the new year off as she means to go on. A fresh start. It’ll be a long road, but she’s off to a good start, and I admit, I feel better knowing she’s got Trev looking out for her.”

I nod. “You know, when you showed up this morning, I thought it might have been Danny and Tristan.”

“They’re at a murder mystery weekend at a very haunted hotel. Danny messaged me. The ghosts sound hilarious.”

“They’re at a murder mystery weekend at a haunted hotel? I thought it was supposed to be a romantic getaway?” I frown. “They have a very strange idea of relaxation.”

“I don’t think they knew it was haunted or that it was a murder mystery weekend.” Sam laughs. He steps in closer to me, ignoring the kettle that has just boiled. “You know, I like these pyjamas.” His gaze runs down my chest as it takes in the soft, clingy material covered in holly and mistletoe.

“A Yule gift from my dads,” I reply a little breathlessly, feeling my cock throb. Poor thing. I’ve been so exhausted lately I’ve barely got a twitch out of it, but five minutes in Sam’s company and it’s ready to start saluting him. “They think it’s funny.” I swallow as he presses closer still. “Every year they try to find the most ridiculous ones they can, thinking I won’t wear them.”

“Joke’s on them, huh?” Sam’s mouth curves, and goddamn, that sexy little dimple in his cheek appears and I just want to lick it.

“They are very comfortable pyjamas.” My breathing picks up and I’m sure my pupils are dilating. “Stretchy.”

“Is that right?” He licks his lips. “And covered in mistletoe. Do pagans and Wiccans follow the same traditions when it comes to mistletoe?”

“And what tradition is that, then?” I whisper.

“That I should thoroughly kiss anything I find underneath it.”

Fuck.

My control snaps with an almost audible ping. I throw my arms around his neck, my mouth crashing against his, all need and no finesse. I’m not proud to admit I climb him like a bloody tree. Although there’s not much difference in our height, he does seem to be much more muscular than I remember. He has no trouble sliding his hands down and cupping my arse cheeks, lifting me against him and pressing me against the counter.

I let out an embarrassing moan as my hard cock grinds against his stomach, which somehow seems to be made of stone.

“Bed,” I manage to gasp out before our tongues tangle and I’m sinking deeper into our fevered kisses.

Sam doesn’t need telling twice. He hauls me through my flat and into the bedroom, where he lays me on my bed. I tightly cling onto him so that he has no choice but to follow me. I groan at the delicious weight of him pinning me down. His hands slide under my shirt and up my torso, leaving fire in their wake. Everywhere he touches me heightens my senses until I’m writhing against him, desperate for more—more kisses, more touch, more skin, just more. I’m greedy for him. I want everything he’ll give me.

I’ve never in my life felt this intense need for another person. It’s not like I haven’t been attracted to men before, even if I haven’t had the urge to act on it, but with Sam…I can’t even begin to explain what I’m feeling.

I grab his T-shirt and yank it up his back. “Off,” I demand.

“I. Knew. You’d. Be. Just. Like. This,” Sam pants between kisses before pulling back briefly so I can pull the shirt over his head.

He leans over and flicks on the lamp on the bedside table, flooding the room with soft light.