Page 155 of The Other Side

Drum sighed with relief when they were in their cottage. It was warm. Osian had put the tree lights on and it all looked cosy.

“Hungry?” Osian asked. “Hot drink?”

“Has the magic gone? Bed wasn’t the first word from your mouth? I’m traumatised.”

“If I don’t get some caffeine or sugar into you now, you’ll be asleep on the rug in ten minutes, and I am not carrying you up those stairs.”

Drum laughed. “I’ll be asleep in ten minutes anyway. Bed! Now!” Drum narrowed his eyes when Osian laughed. “Run.”

He caught Osian in the bedroom doorway, probably because Osian wanted him to. Drum propelled him to the bed, and they flung themselves down, their lips pressed together, tongues slipping against each other’s as Drum’s heart did acrobatics in his chest.

Osian’s hands slid under Drum’s head, his fingers squeezing his scalp and tugging at his hair. Drum loved being on the edge of pain inflicted by Osian. He didn’t know why it was so intoxicating, but it was.

Clothes were quickly shed and when Osian’s lips enveloped Drum’s cock, there was no stopping the sob that burst from Drum’s throat. Osian sucked cock just like he kissed, with so much enthusiasm and excitement that Drum’s heart ached with the joy of it. Drum could do nothing but lie there, his eyes closed, his toes curling, his breath catching as he tried to stroke Osian’s head without yanking his hair out.

Except with his eyes closed, he was missing the treat of watching Osian do this. So he forced them open, propped himself up on his elbows and wallowed in the sight of his cock moving in and out of Osian’s mouth. And when he took him down to his balls, Drum shook from head to toe.

At the same time as driving Drum wild, Osian had his hand around his own cock, jerking faster and faster. Seeing that tipped Drum over the edge. It was like being hit by a truck, except not in a painful way. His balls detonated, emptied into Osian’s mouth and it felt as if his whole body had been caught up in the explosion. If he’d been standing, he’d have fallen. Osian swallowed it all, then pulled away, throwing his head back, the cords standing out in his neck as he sprayed come all over his heaving abs.

It was the sexiest thing—ever.

But that was what Drum thought every time.

The next morning and afternoon were spent at the garden centre. It had been a relatively simple build, and the place had gone up in no time. Sitting on the edge of Sparlow, it drew visitors from all over Derbyshire, though very few ever ventured into the village itself, even if they tried to.

All the staff were from Sparlow, most of them mortal. Kit baked cakes for the café and, together with Will, ran everything that wasn’t plant-related: toys, cards, vases, garden ornaments, bird feeders, bird food, Christmas decorations, gifts and all the bits and pieces people never realised they needed until they saw them.

Drum handled the administrative side of the business, which didn’t thrill him. He found himself missing police work. There was something satisfying about solving problems that weren’t invoices, stock orders and payroll.

Everything had run smoothly in their absence, which wasn’t remotely surprising. Will and Kit were an excellent team.

“Okay?” Osian wandered over, wrapped an arm around Drum’s waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, warm breath ghosting through the wool of his jumper.

“Fine. Sorted out your plants?”

Osian had spent most of the day tending the collection he’d brought over from Faeryland, specimens that demanded patience, skill and far more attention than anything mortal.

“All done. Ten more minutes and we can close up. I just need that dithering couple to decide what they’re putting on top of their tree. Star or angel.”

“Or demon?” Mikkel said from behind them, making them both jump.

Drum found himself staring at the young man at Mikkel’s side, almost plastered to him.

“This is Teddy.”

“Hi, Teddy,” they both said.

“A demon’s not very Christmassy,” Drum said. “Although, an angel and a demon together would look interesting.”

They all laughed.

“If I had a Christmas tree.” Mikkel laughed.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have told him that,” Osian said as Drum backed off towards the seasonal display.

“What?”

“You’ve just guaranteed he’ll be buying you one before we lock up.”