I'll Be Hot for Christmas Read online

  Just thinking of the very first time they had ever made love ‑‑ the first time they had ever fucked, to put it crudely ‑‑ put a lump in O’Brian’s pants. The way Valenti had been all over him, the things he had whispered to his partner to enflame him to action. Do it, Valenti. Can’t wait any longer. Need to have you in me. Need to feel you fuck me. O’Brian’s own words came back to haunt him as he watched his partner, his best friend, his lover conversing quietly in the crowded ballroom. God, he wanted this man so badly he ached! And yet lately it felt like Valenti was slipping further and further away from him.

  Well, not any more, O’Brian decided. Squaring his shoulders, he pressed through the crowd and wound up right behind his partner.

  “… a very important contribution,” the gray-haired man was saying, and Valenti nodded.

  “Absolutely, and the PD is more than glad to help, Chairman Tanner. I ‑‑”

  “Excuse me.” O’Brian tapped his partner on the shoulder and Valenti turned, a surprised look on his face. “O’Brian,” he said blankly. “What are you doing here dressed like that?”

  “Sorry I didn’t have time to put on a monkey suit,” O’Brian said sarcastically. “But I came here in kinda a hurry. Sorry to drag you away from your fancy party but we have a situation to deal with.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Valenti looked confused as O’Brian hooked him by the elbow and began pulling him through the crowd. “That was Chairman Tanner, the head of the hospital board of directors,” he hissed at O’Brian as they wove through the richly dressed crowd.

  “I don’t care if he was Santa Claus and the pope all wrapped up in one,” O’Brian growled, still tugging his partner towards the exit. “You’re comin’ with me.”

  “But why?” Valenti continued to protest, but at least his feet were still moving, a situation O’Brian didn’t expect to last long. He tugged harder.

  “It’s urgent,” he said vaguely. “And we’re the only two guys on the force that can handle it. You gotta come with me, Valenti. And hurry!”

  O’Brian kept dodging his partner’s pointed questions until they were out in the parking area across from the convention center. But when it came to actually getting into O’Brian’s ’82 Cordoba, Valenti balked.

  “Look, what is this all about?” he demanded for what felt like the fiftieth time. “And don’t just tell me it’s urgent ‑‑ I want to know where the hell we’re going and what’s going on.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on.” O’Brian pushed his surprised partner up against the side of the car and grabbed both his arms. Before Valenti knew what was happening, O’Brian had whipped out his silver police issue cuffs and had them fitted snugly around his partner’s wrists.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Valenti stared down at his cuffed wrists in amazement. “Have you gone crazy?”

  “You could say that,” O’Brian said grimly. “Crazy or horny, one of the two. Either way, you’re comin’ with me.”

  “I am not.” Valenti rattled the cuffs threateningly. “Get me out of these and let me go back to the benefit.”

  “Nope.” O’Brian whipped a black bandana out of his hip pocket. Before Valenti could protest, he was blindfolded and in the front seat of the Cordoba, his hands folded neatly in his lap. O’Brian smiled as he shut the door on his dumbfounded partner. Nobody was better at “cuff ‘em and stuff ‘em” than he was ‑‑ Valenti ought to know that by now. But his partner had other things on his mind than O’Brian’s law enforcement prowess at the moment ‑‑ like escape.

  “You let me out of here right now,” he snarled as O’Brian started the engine. “Or I swear to God ‑‑”

  “Nick,” O’Brian interrupted him gently. “Do I hafta gag you too?”

  “I ‑‑” Valenti began but O’Brian reached over and cupped his partner’s strong chin in one hand, tracing Valenti’s full mouth with his thumb.

  “Don’t make me do it, Nick,” he murmured. “Not when I can think of so many better ways to use that beautiful mouth.”

  Valenti was abruptly silent and O’Brian could feel his partner’s hot breath against his fingers as he drove. Just touching Valenti again, no matter how little, made him hard as a brick. Suddenly the distance between the convention center and his apartment seemed a lot longer. But he knew when he got there, he was going to give his partner an evening to remember ‑‑ he just hoped Valenti would forgive him afterwards.

  Chapter Three

  The minute O’Brian got his silent partner out of the door and into his apartment, he dragged Valenti directly into the bedroom. He’d had other things planned, romantic things, but right that minute he wasn’t feeling the least bit romantic. His cock was aching with an entire month of pent up desire and he didn’t have time for hearts and flowers.

  “O’Brian, what the hell ‑‑?” Valenti began again as O’Brian slapped the bedroom door closed behind them.

  “Shut up,” O’Brian growled. He pushed his partner down on the bed and uncuffed Valenti’s right wrist just long enough to strip off the beautifully tailored tux jacket and the crisp white dress shirt underneath. He ran both hands over the hard, muscular planes of his partner’s smooth, brown chest, reveling in the feel of the masculine body under his fingertips. Gently he pinched the small, flat, copper-colored disks of Valenti’s nipples, then leaned down to lap at one eagerly until his partner hissed with the hot sensation.

  “O’Brian…!” he gasped. Far from slowing him down, the tortured moan pushed all O’Brian’s buttons. He sucked at the other nipple, stopping to nip it sharply and then lapped it gently to ease the sharp little pain. The long, lean body writhed under his assault.

  God, but his partner’s skin tasted good—hot and salty, with just a hint of bitterness. Valenti had a warm, earthy scent O’Brian associated with fucking. This was the scent that had filled his senses the first time Valenti rode him, filled him with his long cock, fucked him until he came deep in O’Brian’s body. This was the scent of his partner, his friend, his lover ‑‑ it was desire and need and coming home all at once and it had been too damn long since O’Brian had gotten close enough to fill his lungs with it.

  “God!” Valenti, still blindfolded, was shivering with the hot feeling of being licked and stroked all over but O’Brian wasn’t done yet ‑‑ not by a long shot. Grabbing Valenti’s wrists, he brought them up to the top of the big brass bed. Then he snapped them closed again, effectively trapping his partner in a helpless position with his arms over his head.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Valenti’s voice was rough with fear and desire.

  “Have you ever heard of the Spanish Inquisition?” O’Brian asked, not bothering to answer the question.

  “Huh?” Valenti moved his head blindly, the black bandana still obscuring his vision. “The Spanish Inquisition?”

  “You oughta know this stuff, Corazón,” O’Brian mocked him, using his abuelita’s nickname, the one he knew Valenti hated. “It’s in your blood. Anyway, what it boils down to is during the Spanish Inquisition the bad guy priests tortured people until they told the truth.”

  “So what does that have to do with this?” Valenti demanded, rattling the handcuffs against the brass headboard.

  “Actually, a helluva lot, babe,” O’Brian told him, going to work on his partner’s black dress pants. “See, I may not be a priest, but I am the bad guy in this situation. And I’m gonna torture you until you tell me what the hell has been bothering you lately. Why you’ve been givin’ me the cold shoulder, why you’re always too busy to come over or go out after work, but mostly why we haven’t fucked in over a month. Got that?” He stripped off his partner’s pants and underwear, taking the shoes and socks along with them and leaving Valenti nude on the dark blue bedspread.

  “O’Brian, this is crazy!” Valenti protested.

  “No, the way you’ve been actin’ is crazy.” O’Brian toed off his shoes but kept the rest of his clothes on. He liked th