Read Online New Year, New Love, New Challenge by S. Blaise - Free Book Online
Authors: S. Blaise
Tags: M/M romance
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New Year, New Love, New Challenge
They fell through the doorway together in a tangle of lips and limbs, barely avoiding a collision with the floor.
One moaned, the other gasped as they navigated the dark apartment. The faint sounds of passers-by outside reached their ears as others made their way home from their own New Year’s celebrations, but they were ignored. Trent thanked his lucky stars once more that he accepted his boss’s invitation to a Hogmanay ceilidh, which led to him meeting the fun and sexy man in his arms.
Andrew Cameron, his boss’s nephew, seemed to be doing his best at the moment to suck his tongue from his mouth and pull his hair out. Trent slid a hand down Andy’s waist and along one muscular thigh to the bottom of the kilt he was wearing, finally, finally reaching underneath and dragging his palm back up again. He let out a surprised, pleased groan as he encountered no resistance until he reached the waist of the kilt once more from the other side, feeling nothing but smooth, slightly chilled skin the whole way.
“Well, that answers that question,” he gasped. Andy laughed, kissing him again and grinding their bodies together.
“Come on you,” he pulled Trent through another door. “You know there’s a saying that the first thing you do on the first day of New Year’s is what you’ll be doing the rest of the year?” Trent could just make out the grin on the other man’s face thanks to the dim light seeping through the curtains from the streetlamps outside.
“ Real ly?” he asked, his own lips stretching into a leer. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that belief before.”
Andy nodded emphatically. “Oh yes. A venerable and respected superstition—that I may or may not have made up, but I’m sure I heard it somewhere. And if not, well, venerable, respected superstitions have to start somewhere.”
Trent laughed. “And what would you suggest we do?”
Andy snorted. “I shouldn’t have to draw you a picture; let’s just say I didn’t bring you here to play Scrabble.”
Trent laughed and pressed his lips against Andy’s again in a hard kiss and withdrawing his hand from the kilt to try and unfasten it. He cursed as he fumbled with the straps and buckles, becoming clumsy in his eagerness. Andy snickered, finally taking pity on him and shoving him away to fall on the bed while undressing himself in less than a minute, leaving the kilt and his shirt in an undignified heap on the floor topped with his socks, his shoes next to it like a side dish.
Trent’s breath was taken away by the sight of the naked man before him. The ache he felt in his groin for most of the night intensified to an almost painful degree. Andy’s smile turned to a cocky grin as he noticed the effect he was having and stalked over confidently. He let Trent settle further up on the bed and leaned over him.
“Now, your turn.”
He undid the buttons of Trent’s shirt, kissing each patch of skin in the trail down his chest as it was revealed, paying extra attention to his sensitive navel until Trent was squirming beneath him. Upon reaching the black trousers he bypassed them completely, moving instead to take off Trent’s shoes and socks, making him squirm for a different reason as his feet met the cool air.
“I wonder if Americans are as ticklish as Scottish people?” Andy asked, mischief clear in his voice.
Trent aimed his best glare in the other man’s direction. “Don’t you fucking dare!” It was only met with a gleeful laugh.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m only joking. I can barely hold on much longer as it is.” The desperation of his words made Trent moan, and he sighed, relaxing, as he felt hands at his waist again.
The rest of his clothes were quickly tossed to join Andy’s on the floor. Andy’s warm skin slid against Trent’s and burned like a heater. Trent gasped, trying to touch every part of it that he could. Andy rocked and groaned above him. The
They fell through the doorway together in a tangle of lips and limbs, barely avoiding a collision with the floor.
One moaned, the other gasped as they navigated the dark apartment. The faint sounds of passers-by outside reached their ears as others made their way home from their own New Year’s celebrations, but they were ignored. Trent thanked his lucky stars once more that he accepted his boss’s invitation to a Hogmanay ceilidh, which led to him meeting the fun and sexy man in his arms.
Andrew Cameron, his boss’s nephew, seemed to be doing his best at the moment to suck his tongue from his mouth and pull his hair out. Trent slid a hand down Andy’s waist and along one muscular thigh to the bottom of the kilt he was wearing, finally, finally reaching underneath and dragging his palm back up again. He let out a surprised, pleased groan as he encountered no resistance until he reached the waist of the kilt once more from the other side, feeling nothing but smooth, slightly chilled skin the whole way.
“Well, that answers that question,” he gasped. Andy laughed, kissing him again and grinding their bodies together.
“Come on you,” he pulled Trent through another door. “You know there’s a saying that the first thing you do on the first day of New Year’s is what you’ll be doing the rest of the year?” Trent could just make out the grin on the other man’s face thanks to the dim light seeping through the curtains from the streetlamps outside.
“ Real ly?” he asked, his own lips stretching into a leer. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that belief before.”
Andy nodded emphatically. “Oh yes. A venerable and respected superstition—that I may or may not have made up, but I’m sure I heard it somewhere. And if not, well, venerable, respected superstitions have to start somewhere.”
Trent laughed. “And what would you suggest we do?”
Andy snorted. “I shouldn’t have to draw you a picture; let’s just say I didn’t bring you here to play Scrabble.”
Trent laughed and pressed his lips against Andy’s again in a hard kiss and withdrawing his hand from the kilt to try and unfasten it. He cursed as he fumbled with the straps and buckles, becoming clumsy in his eagerness. Andy snickered, finally taking pity on him and shoving him away to fall on the bed while undressing himself in less than a minute, leaving the kilt and his shirt in an undignified heap on the floor topped with his socks, his shoes next to it like a side dish.
Trent’s breath was taken away by the sight of the naked man before him. The ache he felt in his groin for most of the night intensified to an almost painful degree. Andy’s smile turned to a cocky grin as he noticed the effect he was having and stalked over confidently. He let Trent settle further up on the bed and leaned over him.
“Now, your turn.”
He undid the buttons of Trent’s shirt, kissing each patch of skin in the trail down his chest as it was revealed, paying extra attention to his sensitive navel until Trent was squirming beneath him. Upon reaching the black trousers he bypassed them completely, moving instead to take off Trent’s shoes and socks, making him squirm for a different reason as his feet met the cool air.
“I wonder if Americans are as ticklish as Scottish people?” Andy asked, mischief clear in his voice.
Trent aimed his best glare in the other man’s direction. “Don’t you fucking dare!” It was only met with a gleeful laugh.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m only joking. I can barely hold on much longer as it is.” The desperation of his words made Trent moan, and he sighed, relaxing, as he felt hands at his waist again.
The rest of his clothes were quickly tossed to join Andy’s on the floor. Andy’s warm skin slid against Trent’s and burned like a heater. Trent gasped, trying to touch every part of it that he could. Andy rocked and groaned above him. The
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