Rory looked at him, grinning. "I'm trying to keep it up—and hard. I think I'm succeeding admirably."

  "If you want me to come, you'll get your wish. If you want me inside you—"

  "I should stop now?" Rory wrapped his fingers around the base of Lou's cock, took it into his mouth and sucked several times. "There. Perfect. Just like the man it belongs to," he said when he knew Lou had reached the limits of his endurance. With his fingers still around Lou's cock, he used his free hand to get the lube from the drawer, holding it out so Lou could open it for him. After spreading some on Lou's cock, Rory crawled off his lover, kneeling to grip the headboard.

  Lou lubed two fingers, easing them into Rory. When he found the sweet spot and stroked it, Rory moaned deeply.

  "Like that, do you?" Lou whispered against Rory's ear, his breath sending a wave of need straight to Rory's already-throbbing cock.

  Pulling his fingers out, Lou slowly replaced them with his thick cock.

  "I won't break," Rory muttered when Lou paused. "You know that."

  "I don't want to hurt you," Lou replied while grasping Rory's hard cock with one hand.

  "By all that's holy, if you don't fuck me…now…"

  Lou did, carefully at first, until their mutual need for more took over and Lou began to thrust in hard and fast, while pumping Rory's cock.

  Bolts of pleasure washed over Rory. Then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he came—only vaguely aware when Lou did, moments later.

  "Damn, and double damn," Lou groaned, collapsing on Rory's back, his body shaking from his orgasm.

  Rory could barely nod in reply as he released his grip on the headboard, dropping them both onto the bed. "I…concur," he finally managed to say.

  "Concur?" Lou chuckled.

  "It means—"

  "Damn it, Rory, I know what it means." Lou kissed the nape of Rory's neck then pulled out and slid off Rory so he could wrap him in a loving embrace. "To agree. To be in accord."

  "Smart ass," Rory grumbled before kissing him.

  The kiss deepened for a long moment, before Lou said with a laugh, "You, my man, are a sticky mess."

  "And whose fault is that?"

  "Ours?"

  "I suppose I'll accept part of the blame."

  Lou looked at him, shaking his head. "You get all the blame. You drove me to distraction, so I had to screw you right then and there, which meant I never got a chance to sheath your cock. Ergo…"

  Rory broke into delighted laughter. "That is the lamest excuse."

  "Works though." Lou kissed him again, then sat up. "I need to get rid of the evidence," he said, removing the condom and tying it off. "Then we need to shower because you have to, too." He touched Rory's chest. "Definitely have to."

  They shared the shower and a few kisses, then returned to bed, falling asleep in each other's arms.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lou woke the next morning to an empty bed and for a second wondered if the previous night had only been a dream. Then he smelled coffee and knew it had been real. He put on a pair of jeans, made a stop in the bathroom then headed to the kitchen. Rory was leaning against the counter, coffee cup in hand. He picked up the one beside him, handing it to Lou with a cheerful, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

  "Mornin'," Lou replied, giving him a kiss before taking a long drink of coffee. "I need this."

  "If you're as hungry as I am, you probably need breakfast too. I was going to have it made before you got up, but…"

  "Hmm?"

  "No eggs."

  "Oh. Well. Pancakes?"

  "No mix, no eggs."

  Lou laughed. "In other words, the pantry is bare."

  "Pretty much, when it comes to breakfast. We could eat the rest of yesterday's dinner."

  "Or"—Lou checked the time—"we could go down the street to Noa Noa for Huevos Rancheros or steak and eggs."

  "I could go for that."

  "Then let's."

  They finished their coffees while getting dressed, and headed out into…

  "It snowed? Again? What's this all about," Rory grumbled.

  "It's called winter," Lou replied. "And as business owners, we have to shovel the walk, but not until after breakfast."

  "Maybe we can call Kevin and have him come shovel."

  Lou snorted. "It's his day off."

  "Ours too," Rory protested as they walked down the street to the restaurant.

  "I don't think the city would consider that a legitimate excuse."

  "I suppose not."

  They were halfway through breakfast when Lou's phone rang. He answered, listened to the caller, told them he'd be there in twenty minutes and hung up. "There goes the rest of my day off."

  "Why?"

  "One of the suspects in a murder I and my partner are working was spotted in Cap Hill. We have to find him and bring him in for questioning."

  "You can't even finish eating?"

  "Nope." Lou got up, put on his coat, and kissed Rory. "I'll call to let you know when I'm on my way home." He grinned. "Guess who gets to shovel the walk?"

  "Lucky me. You be careful. Okay?"

  "Always." Lou kissed him again, rolled the remains of his Huevos Rancheros into the tortilla, and after giving Roy some cash to help pay for breakfast, he took off.

  *****

  Rory got the sidewalk shoveled, feeling very virtuous when he finished—and decidedly cold. Then, with nothing else to do at the gallery, he went home.

  His apartment felt…empty, if he was going to put a word to it. But then it had too often recently. It's always been just a place to stay when I was in the city to do something for Gideon. Now it's more…I suppose. But it's not home. I'm not sure the one in Boulder really was either. What's the saying? Home is where you hang your hat? I've hung mine too many places over the last few years and none of them has really been a home. A place to sleep, and kick back when I had the chance, but not home.

  He knew why he was feeling down. With all the time he'd spent with Lou—at the gallery and in Lou's apartment—being alone for the day was…lonely. I'm used to being with him or being around people at the gallery while he's at work. It never used to bother me. Well, not much. I created my jewelry to keep busy. Something I haven't done since… Well, since I met Lou and we went after Hanks. Maybe now's the time to get back to it.

  With that thought in mind, he went into what was supposed to be a second bedroom in his small apartment. He had turned it into a studio of sorts, with a battered desk he had found at a near-new shop—and moved down from his old place in Boulder—serving as his workbench. Two cabinets held his supplies. A third held the jewelry he hadn't taken to the shop on Seventeenth that handled his work on a consignment basis.

  "I've been lazy," he murmured, looking at a design he'd come up with for a necklace, pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Getting out what he needed, he set to work.

  Rory was so engrossed in his creation he had no idea of the time when his phone rang. Turning off the small torch he was using, he answered.

  "I'm about to head home," Lou told him.

  "So soon?"

  "Umm, it's three o'clock," Lou replied. "What did you do? Go back to bed?"

  "No. I'm at my place. Working."

  "The secret enclave I've never seen?" Lou asked with a laugh. "What are you working on? Don't tell me Gideon has another job for you."

  "He doesn't. I'm almost done with a necklace I designed."

  "Oh. Right. You told me, way back when, that you did that."

  "You can come by, if you want."

  "Address? One of the reasons I've never visited is because you never gave it to me. Okay, I know it's on the paperwork for the gallery, but…"

  Rory could imagine Lou shrugging. He told him the address then went back to what he was doing. The necklace was, in his opinion, one of his better pieces—or would be when he finished.

  Half an hour later he heard the buzzer. After checking to be certain it was Lou, he let him into the building, waiting by the open door for him to make it up to the apartment.

  "Not too bad," Lou said, looking around once he was in Rory's living room. "Unless," he wisecracked, "you want to be able to turn around when there's more than one person in here."

  "Smart ass. It's not that small. I consider it cozy."

  "Very." Lou took off his jacket, tossing it on the sofa, before giving Rory a kiss. "So, what's the rest of it like?"

  "Off to your right," Rory said in a tour guide voice, "you can see the immaculate kitchen. If you'll follow me"—he opened one of the doors on the side wall—"you'll discover the master bedroom. And then"—he opened another door—"the artist's studio. Notice there is a third door. It leads to the minuscule bathroom."

  "No kidding," Lou agreed when he checked. "I've see bigger ones in campers." He went back to Rory's studio, stopping beside the desk to look at the necklace. "Beautiful," he said, sounding awed.

  "Thank you. I designed it a while ago, but only got around to making it today. It's not quite finished." Rory showed him the sketch of what the final product would look like.

  "Why are you wasting your time working for Gideon? You should be spending every waking hour making jewelry."

  "I'm not that good," Rory demurred, delighted by Lou's compliment.

  "Could have fooled me. What are you going to do of it when it's finished?"

  "Take it over to the shop where I've got some other pieces on consignment."

  "Uh-uh. You're going to bring it to the gallery. We'll get a case for it and… Do you have any other pieces here?"

  Rory showed him, considering Lou's suggestion while his lover looked at the rings, bracelets, and assorted pins in the cabinet. "Maybe a couple of things, to see if anyone's even interested," Rory said at last.

  Lou gave him a thumbs-up, taking several items from the cabinet. "We'll start with these. I'll get in touch with Clay to see if he knows where we can find a decent, secure, display case. Do you have something to carry them in?"

  Rory got the case he used when he took his work to the jewelry shop and they nestled the pieces in its various compartments.

  "How did your day go?" Rory said when they finished, realizing he hadn't asked.

  "Not bad. We found the guy we were looking for and took him in for questioning. Turns out he isn't the killer, but he gave up a friend of his who is. That guy's now in jail, awaiting arraignment. Speaking of which, Hanks' trial date has been set for the eighth of January. You should be hearing from the prosecutor within the week."

  "Oh boy. At least he didn't make bail, you said."

  "Yeah. Flight risks often get bail revoked, and he's definitely one."

  "I'll mark the date on my 'things I don't want to do' calendar."

  Lou laughed. "You actually have one?"

  Rory grinned. "Not yet, but this might make me get one."

  "Nut." Lou hugged him then glanced at the necklace. "Are you planning on finishing that tonight?"

  "I don't have to, if you have a better idea."

  "Dinner, then back here to see if your bed is as comfortable as mine."

  "Sounds good to me."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "Christmas? Already?" Lou looked at the calendar, even though he knew it would confirm his question. It was less than week until the big day.

  He already had gifts for his family, none of whom—thankfully, as far as he was concerned—lived in the city. His parents had a home in Tucson. His brother and sister were both on the east coast. As much as he loved them all, he was just as glad he didn't have to spend holidays with them. He'd sent them their presents a week ago. Ones from them had shown up over the last few days.

  He knew Rory was an only child whose folks still lived in Kansas City. According to Rory, they cared about him, but had been happy to see the back of him when he left home at the age of twenty-one, after graduating from the KC Art Institute. "Liberal, they're not," was Rory's somewhat bitter description of them.

  I have to make Christmas special for him. But how? He won't even be back in town until the twenty-third.

  Rory had left the previous week on a job for Gideon, the first one since he and Lou had taken Hanks down.

  What does he need or want? He never complains that he doesn't have this or that. He lives frugally in that pretty small apartment. What he makes on his jewelry goes straight into the bank. He smiled, remembering his first impressions of his lover. I thought he was a self-centered, spoiled, rich kid. Boy, was I wrong.

  Lou paced the apartment, trying to figure out what he could give Rory. Then it hit him. He wasn't certain Rory would like it, but damned if he wouldn't do it anyway and let the chips fall where they may.

  With that decided, the next thing on his list was getting a tree, some lights, and decorations. He'd never done that at his old apartment. It seemed more bother than it was worth since he only seemed to use it as a place to keep his clothes and sleep.

  Two trees, actually. One for the gallery, one for up here. This ought to be fun, getting them back here.

  Two hours and a lot of cursing later, with Kevin's assistance, he had both trees standing in their respective places. He'd called the young man, and even though it was his day off, he'd enthusiastically agree to help. Between them, they'd also decorated the trees, after another trip to buy what was needed.

  "Not bad," Kevin said when they finished. "I was beginning to wonder if you even celebrated Christmas, since neither of you suggested doing this." He waved his hand to encompass the tree in the gallery, and the wreath on the front door. "Now you need to throw a party."

  "No way!" Lou said emphatically. "The openings when we bring in a new artist are enough partying, as far as I'm concerned."

  There had been two since the gallery first opened—one for another painter, the second for a photographer whose work was more impressionistic than realistic. Both were selling well, reinforcing Lou's belief that Rory had an excellent eye for art, since he was the one who had found the artists in question.

  Kevin laughed, calling Lou an introvert, which was far from the truth and he knew it. "So, what are you getting Rory for Christmas? I hope you haven't put off shopping for something until now. You'll be bucking a million people at any store you go to, just like we did for the decorations."

  Lou smiled. "I have it all taken care of." He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that was the truth.

  *****

  Rory called Lou on the twenty-third to tell him he might not be back until Christmas day. "We hit a snag, but it should be cleared up by then," he said. He chuckled. "I hope it is. I have a reservation on the six pm flight. Do you know how hard that was to get?"

  Lou laughed. "Who did you have to bribe?"

  "Ask Gideon. He's the one who arranged it. I miss you."

  "Miss you too. Enough that I'm even volunteering to pick you up at the airport."

  "I'll love you forever if you do," Rory said.

  "So that's what it takes?" Lou laughed, reiterated that he missed Rory, then hung up.

  *****

  Lou barely made it to the airport in time, thanks to two domestic disputes that had turned deadly. "The joys of Christmas and heightened emotions," Lieutenant Harber had said when he'd assigned the cases to Lou and his partner.

  After the day he'd put in, Lou was not in the best of moods, despite the anticipation of finally holding Rory in his arms again. That is, until he saw more than one reunion between families and their loved ones who were obviously as late coming in for the holiday as Rory. He began smiling, then wishing everyone he passed, "Merry Christmas". By the time he saw Rory come into the waiting area, he was beaming ear to ear. Embracing Rory, he planted a hearty kiss on his lips.

  "Whoa," Rory said after returning the kiss. "I guess you did miss me."

  "You have no idea. Let's get your bags and go home so I can show you how much."

  The drive back to the gallery was filled with Rory telling Lou about the job. "But in the end, I proved the works were forgeries, and we caught the man responsible," he said in conclusion.

  "Of course you did. You're the best there is at that," Lou replied, patting Rory's thigh.

  "Well, not the best. The Feds have the experts and the tools to do the job as well. But I'm not bad," Rory said with what Lou thought was justifiable pride.

  The first thing Rory said when they entered the gallery—after taking off his coat and putting his bags down—was, "Wow!" followed by, "You've been busy. What inspired this?" He pointed to the tree with all its lights and decorations.

  Lou shrugged. "I figured, given the holiday…"

  "Your sentimental streak is showing." Rory paused long enough to hug him before they headed upstairs. As soon as they were in the apartment, he grinned. "And again."

  "Well, 'tis the season, as they say." Gathering Rory into his arms, Lou said, "Merry Christmas."

  "Merry Christmas." They kissed, then Rory said, "It's good to be home."

  Yes! Lou cheered silently. "Speaking of which I… Well, I didn't know what to get you for Christmas so—"

  "You don't have to get me anything. Just being here with you is enough," Rory replied softly.

  "Yeah, well, about that. I thought, maybe, if you want to… It's kind of…stupid, us both having our own places when we spend most of our time here but still, it is your apartment and maybe you wouldn't want to move."

  Rory's eyes opened wide. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

  "If you want to."

  "Of course I do! Tomorrow? No, you work. Monday?"

  Lou laughed, hugging him tightly. "I'll take that as a yes."

  "A very enthusiastic yes." Rory kissed him deeply, but pulled back before things could progress beyond that. "As Christmas presents go, that was a doozy. I don't think I can top it, but…" He took a small, gift-wrapped package from his pocket, handing it to Lou.

  Lou took off the wrapping and opened the box. Lying on a bed of cotton was a heavy silver pendant and chain. The pendant was a shield, with a sword in the center. On either side of the sword were embossed initials—his on the left, Rory's on the right. "It's beautiful," he whispered. "The best gift ever, from the most wonderful man in the world."

 

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