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Morning blowjobs, eh?
Actually, it sounded fun. Suddenly I was looking forward to it. Staring into Brody’s face as I went down on Lincoln… seeing the lust in his eyes as I—
KNOCK…
I whirled, nearly tearing the door off the refrigerator as I yanked it open. The noise had come from the previous room. From the living room, or maybe—
KNOCK KNOCK.
My heart began racing, the kitchen floor feeling suddenly cold beneath my bare feet. It was a faint sound, a gentle sound. Maybe the wind. A stray branch, banging against the house. But as much as I wanted to believe that, the sound was
also very distinct.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Okay, now it was louder! So loud that it was unmistakable. It was a knock. A door knock, because it was definitely coming from the front door.
I abandoned the fridge without shutting it, as if the slightest noise or movement would give away my position. Then I crept backward, into the living room. The staircase wasn’t far. All I had to do was cross the—
“OHHH!”
My heart leapt from my chest as I jumped a foot in the air! There was a figure standing next to me. A figure standing beside me, so close he could reach out and grab me and—
“EASY, Holly…”
It was Lincoln. Bare-chested and beautiful and wearing only his boxers. The half-fire cast amazing shadows over his muscles, bringing them out in stark definition. Even terrified and startled out of my wits, I found myself staring.
“There’s someone at the door!” I whispered loudly. “Someone’s trying to—”
“I heard it too,” Lincoln breathed. “I heard the knocking.”
He walked confidently in the direction of the front door, as if it were broad daylight and he was expecting someone. But he did reach for something first… a fireplace poker. A long, heavy length of iron with a twisted hook at the end, taken from the tool set near the hearth.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—
“WHO IS IT?” Lincoln demanded loudly.
A voice answered, low and muffled. Stepped on by the wind.
“I SAID WHO—”
“IT’S ME,” the voice cried, finally loud enough to be heard. “IT’S DONOVAN!”
Lincoln looked back at me in shock, blinked twice, then flung the door open. Sure enough, Donovan was standing on the porch, shivering like mad, covered in snow from head to toe.
“Holy SHIT!” I cried, running forth. “Donovan! What are you doing here!” I ushered him in as Lincoln closed the door. He actually had to lean into it a little, to force it against the wind.
“How in the world did you you…” I stammered, brushing him off. “What did you—”
“I decided to come up,” he said teeth chattering. He dropped a duffel bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “I wanted to spend Christmas with you.”
Lincoln and I glanced at each other in confusion. He spoke first.
“But we’re coming home the day after tomorr—”
“No you’re not,” Donovan interrupted. “Haven’t you seen the news? Have any of you been watching the weather reports?”
We shook our heads. Lincoln slid the poker back in place as I took Donovan’s snow-covered coat.
