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turned, Chris had already left. God. He fucked everything up. Maybe… maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he’d…. He’d given his jobs up and pretty much assured he’d never work again. It wasn’t like he had a lot of prospects.
    He hurried out of the shower, dried off, and dressed quickly before putting on his shoes and jacket from the night before.
    Chris was waiting outside the en suite bathroom door for him. “My clothes look good on you.”
    “Thanks.” He didn’t know what to do, what to say. “I’m sorry.”
    Chris took his hand. “For?”
    “Upsetting you. Doing this wrong.”
    “Is there a right way to do this?” Chris touched his cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong. God, I want you.”
    Kenn pushed into the touch, a soft moan escaping him. Chris leaned toward him, tilted his head, then brought their lips together. The kiss was soft, gentle, almost like it was the most fragile thing in the world. Kenn stepped in, inhaling deep as they touched. Chris smelled just like he remembered—soap and man, sexy as hell.
    Chris slid his hands down his back, teasing him as they grabbed his ass and squeezed. Leaning their foreheads together, Chris stared into him. “Want you so bad. I want to throw you on the bed and fuck you through the mattress and pretend the last year never happened.”
    Okay. Yes. Now. “No one’s touched me in so long. I’ve missed you.”
    “I’ve done nothing but work since you left. There’s a hole in me that belongs to you.” Chris touched his cheek again, then slid his hand back, fingers pushing through Kenn’s hair, tracing his ear.
    “I want to touch.” Kenn pushed his hands under Chris’s sweater. Chris’s skin was warm and smooth, the muscles jumping and working beneath his touch. “Tell me the kids are busy. Tell me it’s okay.”
    “They’re making Christmas cards. We’ve got… not enough time.” Chris brought their lips together again, warm and wet and dancing together.
    “Uh-huh.” He slid down Chris’s body. He needed just a taste.
    “Oh, fuck. Babe. You don’t have to.” Chris’s words might have been saying no , but the tone of his voice was begging him to do it.
    “I need to. Please, love.”
    Nodding, Chris undid his belt and opened his slacks.
    Kenn nuzzled in, inhaling deep, breathing that heady, musky scent in.
    “Fuck. Babe. Oh God.” Chris slid his fingers into his hair.
    “I love you,” Kenn whispered, lips opened as he breathed on Chris’s balls through his underwear.
    “Yes. Please.”
    Yeah. Kenn moaned, rose and eased Chris out of his briefs, his belly aching with his need. He felt the tremor going through Chris’s legs and knew Chris was affected by this too.
    A pounding came to the bedroom door. “Daddy? Daddy, Micah broke the red crayon!”
    “It was an accident! I said I was sorry!”
    Kenn was going to cry.
    “Shit.” Chris cleared his throat. “Just a minute.” Then he bent and kissed Kenn hard. “I’ve got this. And then we’re going to run the kids ragged so we get some uninterrupted time tonight.” Chris tucked himself in and zipped his slacks back up.
    “No fair.” Kenn didn’t want to be all cool about this.
    “I know.”
    Sarah beat on the door again. “Daddy!”
    “I do love you, Kenn Greyson. Come down when you’re ready.”
    “Two minutes.” Just enough to keep himself from having a temper tantrum.
    Chris nodded and headed out to corral the kids.
    Kenn banged his head against the door and thumped his cock, hard. Goddamn it. All he’d wanted was a taste, was to feel Chris’s thick heat between his lips and against his tongue. He wanted to make Chris moan. It looked like he was going to have to wait, though.
    Anticipation, right? It was supposed to be good. As long as it didn’t kill him.

Chapter Eight
     
    C HRIS READ the fourth book of the night, sitting on the big king bed, Kenn on the other side, with the kids curled up between them. They were probably too old for Goodnight Moon, but he