The Santa Claus (Men Of The World) Read online

Page 2


  “Suit by Mr. Louis Vuitton, and shoes courtesy of Gucci.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have anyone supplying your underwear.”

  He smirks and opens the top drawer of his nightstand, reaches inside, and pulls out a pair of black briefs.

  As he unfolds them, he says, “Courtesy of Mr. Calvin Klein.”.

  Deacon’s fortunate enough to have designers who agree to dress him. We catch the attention of the press every time we walk the red carpet together. I’ve loved sharing the spotlight with him all these years, and knowing we’re the focus of millions of viewers all over the world.

  “You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about what to wear. You have designers fighting over who gets to dress you, and their clothes are practically thrown at you. Meanwhile I’m stuck over here trying to decide what to wear so I don’t look like a total loser standing beside you.”

  “You could never look like a loser. And if it were up to me—” He places his knee on the bed and leans in toward me, sliding the sheet down past my waist. “—I’d have you standing beside me totally naked.”

  Deacon leans forward and presses his mouth to mine as he slides my cock through his fist, then slowly teases his way down my neck and finds my pecs. He traces his tongue around my nipple, fisting my dick faster. Slowly, he makes his way down my chest, then removes his hand, and I feel his breath on my groin. Sex with Deacon is always hot, and what makes it more satisfying is when I hear the profanity and my name come out of his mouth.

  “You know I’m about to come, right?”

  “I can’t think of a better way to start our morning,” he says.

  His lips wrap around my cock and he immediately takes me to the back of his throat. I let out a loud curse, tilt my head backward and close my eyes, and the only sound I can hear is the loud sucking coming from between my legs. He covers my length with his saliva and slides his mouth up and down my thick shaft.

  “Jesussss,” I hiss.

  I feel my balls tingle and I open my eyes to watch him devouring my cock; his lips tighten as he increases the pace and I grab the back of his head, pulling his hair with each thrust in and out of his mouth. The sensation makes its way up my length, so I try and pull myself free, but Deacon increases his speed, and it doesn’t take long before I’m shooting jets of come down his throat. He finally pulls away and I watch him swallow with the biggest look of satisfaction on his face, like he’s just won the fucking lottery. He slides out his tongue and wets his lower lip before wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m completely stuffed,” he chuckles.

  “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely. Now why don’t you join me in the shower and then the two of us can head to The Beverly Center and find you a spectacular outfit for tonight.”

  He flashes me a huge grin and gets to his feet, before making his way toward the bathroom. I jump out of the bed and follow him to the shower.

  I hate shopping. We walk through the endless crowd of shoppers and occasionally stop

  whenever someone recognizes Deacon and asks for a photo or an autograph. It’s a custom I’ve gotten used to over the many years we’ve been together—he’s a celebrity and in the spotlight every single day, plus he’s at the peak of his career and it’s what he does for his fans.

  We step into the first clothing store and I make my way toward the selection of suits in the corner. I glance over my shoulder and see Deacon trying on some shades, so I grab the first suit in front of me, check the size, and make my way to the dressing room. I try it on and step out to find Deacon standing beside the door.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it looks spectacular, and I’m going to enjoy peeling you out of it later tonight when we have the opportunity to be alone.”

  I see the smirk on his lips before I look down at the price tag hanging off my sleeve and flip over the card. My eyes widen at the price.

  “What’s wrong?” Deacon asks.

  “It’s … it’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. Is it the price?”

  I nod. “There’s no way I’m paying this much money for a damn suit. It’s only the first shop we’ve tried, let’s have a look somewhere else.”

  I turn, go back into the change room and get out of the suit, then quickly dress in my regular clothes. We leave the store and make our way through the mall before finding another clothing store. The more suits I try on, the more I reject and put back on the rack because of the price tag, although I have a healthy bank account and could well and truly afford most of these outfits. Tonight is a big deal for Deacon, like all his charity events, so I suppose I should look a million dollars standing beside him.

  After three hours and still no suit, we decide to sit down at one of the cafés for a coffee. I give our order to the waitress and watch as two women and a man approach our table—each of them requests an autograph and a selfie with Deacon. It doesn’t matter where we are, or what we’re doing, Deacon always makes time for his fans. The waitress returns a few minutes later with our coffees and places them on the table.

  “I told you I’d buy you a suit. Why won’t you let me buy it?” Deacon asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Babe, we’ve discussed this. I don’t want you to think I can’t afford to buy things for myself.”

  “Brodie, I’ve seen the way your eyes widen and your face sags each time you read a price tag. You know I don’t have a problem buying gifts for you.”

  “But that’s just the point, you’re always buying gifts for me, first it’s the house, then a car, now it’s clothes and a coffee. What’s next?”

  “I do it because I love you.”

  At those words, I smile into my coffee. Sucker. While I’ve always been cautious about how much money I spend, it’s never been an issue for Deacon on his salary. He’s always agreed to buy me everything, and I’ve never refused. I’m not going to lie, I love that I can be a tight-ass with my own money, knowing Deacon will always cover me. But I also enjoy playing up the whole sincere act, so he doesn’t catch on that I’m secretly relishing the fact that I’ll get whatever I want. I put on a sad and pathetic tone to finish reeling him in.

  “Tonight’s a big deal for you, though, and I don’t want to stand beside you in some cheap-ass outfit and have millions of people judge you for being with me.”

  “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, only what I think, and what I think is that you should let me buy you a suit for tonight.”

  I say nothing, instead finishing the rest of my coffee. When the waitress returns to our table, I reach for my wallet, but Deacon’s already out of his seat and on his way to the counter. I slide my chair out and get to my feet, then make my way to the door as I wait for Deacon.

  After leaving the café, we continue through the mall until we reach Dior. I look through the window, and when I attempt to keep walking, Deacon grabs hold of my hand and pulls me into the store.

  “Deacon—”

  “Shhh.” He presses a finger to my lips. “We’re not walking out of here until we find the sexiest outfit that I’m going to buy for you.”

  “Deacon, no.” It’s a feeble protest at best.

  “I wasn’t giving you an option.”

  Knowing I’m about to score the most expensive of all the suits I’ve tried on so far, I pretend to reluctantly agree to his demand and the two of us slowly make our way around the store. A gray suit on the back wall catches my attention, so I head over and grab one in my size. In the dressing room, I slide into the thin legged pants, before throwing the grey jacket over the top of my pink shirt. When I step out and come face-to-face with Deacon, he assesses me. His arms are crossed over his chest and when our eyes connect, he smiles, then lowers his hands by his side.

  “Wait here.” He strides off and gathers a few things before coming back. “These might work.” The tie he drapes around my ne
ck goes well with my own shirt, and he holds a belt against my waist.

  “This is absolutely perfect,” he whispers, turning me toward the mirror.

  He places his hands on my chest before adjusting my jacket. “There, that’s much better,” he says.

  I acknowledge with a smile and pat his hands, then head back inside the dressing room and quickly change. When I’m dressed, I take the suit to the counter and the clerk behind the desk places it neatly into a fresh garment bag. Deacon pulls out his wallet and swipes his credit card through the machine, while the clerk hands the suit bag to me. I thank her and walk out the store, hand in hand with Deacon.

  When we head to the crowded food court, I order a club sandwich, while Deacon settles on a burger and fries from McDonalds then finds us a place toward the window, where there aren’t as many people around and hopefully we can enjoy a peaceful lunch.

  “You’re awfully quiet. What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing, I’m just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “This moment, and how lucky we are to have found each other.”

  I take a bite of my sandwich and set it back down on my plate, then take a sip of my Pepsi. When I look up at Deacon, who’s already halfway through his burger, he locks his eyes with mine.

  “What?” he asks with a mouth full of food.

  “In all the years we’ve been together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat junk food. I know you have your own personal trainer and spend hours slugging it out at the gym, but I mean, this is actually the first time I’ve seen you put carbs into your mouth.”

  “No it’s not. What about movie date night? We have nachos, chips, popcorn, milkshakes, and not to mention that delicious chocolate mousse you make.”

  Okay, so he makes a valid point.

  “That’s true, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually seen you eat take-out before, and a meal at a restaurant doesn’t count.” Looking at my watch I say, “We really should get going if we’re going to make that benefit tonight,” I say, sliding out my chair as I stand up.

  When Deacon gets to his feet, he places the trash in the bin and then reaches out his hand for me to hold. We make our way through the mall again and out to the parking lot where Deacon spins me around and presses me against the side of the car. “You’re going to look fucking spectacular tonight in this suit.”

  I carefully place my suit on the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling into my seatbelt as Deacon starts the car and we head home.

  The limousine pulls up outside the main entrance of the Dolby Theatre. Even inside the vehicle, I can hear the screams of waiting fans outside and the reflection of flashes from all directions. It’s the same at every event I attend—there’s no way of escaping the paparazzi, even from inside a car. I turn to look at Brodie sitting beside me. “Have I told you how incredibly sexy you look in that suit?”

  “Yes … but I never tire of hearing it. And you never let me thank you for buying it for me.”

  “You can thank me later tonight, in the bedroom.”

  I lean over and press a kiss to his lips as I run my hand up the inside of his thigh.

  “Don’t start something you know we can’t finish. Besides, you’ll ruin the suit.”

  “You’re such a cock tease,” I whisper, nipping his earlobe.

  “Deacon!”

  “Fine! Let’s go mingle and play nice, but seriously, when we get home, don’t expect me to behave.”

  I give him a wink and then the door opens. I slide out of my seat and clip the button on my jacket as Brodie exits after me. We’re immediately swamped by the paparazzi, cameras clicking and flashing; microphones, phones, and portable recording devices held out over the barriers holding them back. With Brodie’s hand in mine, we slowly head along the red carpet, making our way toward the main entrance. Several reporters from various news stations stop us for brief interviews and photo opportunities. As I move farther down the line, men and women ask me for autographs and selfies, and I stop for them all because I never let my fans down.

  By the time we get inside, the theater is almost full. The stage is illuminated with a bright spotlight and soft music escapes the speakers. The two of us are ushered down the stairs to the second row, and when we get to the center of the aisle and take our seats, we find we’re right next to the legendary Barbra Streisand. Beside Brodie is the one and only Michael Bublé followed by the diva herself, Mariah Carey. For some, it would be an incredible wow factor, to be seated in this theater with these celebrities. For Brodie though, he’s been a part of my life for so long now that they’re more like family to us.

  That was perhaps one of the best and funniest charity benefits I’ve attended in a very long time. The host of tonight’s event had been kept under wraps, and not even those attending were informed who it was. Adam Sandler was the perfect choice for tonight. The guy is incredibly talented—he certainly knows how to hold his audience’s attention, not to mention he’s hilarious. Brodie and I have been in tears all night because we haven’t been able to stop laughing. The event raised two million dollars for the local children’s shelter, so I’d say it would be one of the most successful events I’ve had the pleasure of attending.

  It’s late by the time we finish chatting with people so we make our way back outside, and we’re greeted by screaming fans. I stop and sign as many as I can, and as I turn to look at Brodie, it appears I’m not the only one getting the attention. It’s obvious from the amount of people reaching out to shake his hand or capture a photo, that people are just as fascinated with him, my boyfriend, as they are every other celebrity. The expression on his face tells me he’s loving every minute of it. We spend another ten minutes with the fans before finally making our way back into the limousine. The driver pulls open the door then Brodie gets inside as I wave to the crowd and unclip the button of my jacket before sliding in beside him.

  “I’ve walked the red carpet with you for years, and I swear it feels as if it takes longer each time.”

  “That’s because the crowd loves you more than they love me.”

  “I highly doubt that. You’re the Hollywood celebrity, and the one that they want.”

  “Well, there’s only one man I want.”

  As the driver pulls away from the curb, I press the button to raise the partition that separates us, and lock it. I unbuckle my seat belt and slide toward Brodie, grab the back of his neck, then turn his head to face me as I crush our mouths together. I remove his belt and spread his legs apart before maneuvering myself between his thighs.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “Just shut up and kiss me,” I order, angling my head toward his and pressing our lips together once more.

  I unclip the buckle on his belt and feed the leather through the loops, tossing it on the floor of the limousine. Brodie’s breath hitches as I slowly remove his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and placing it on the seat beside him. I kiss my way down his neck as my fingers fumble open the buttons of his shirt, one by one, and spread the shirt apart. My lips press kisses to his bare chest as I untuck the shirt from his pants and remove it from his body.

  “Deacon, you need to stop. We don’t have a lot of time before we get to the after party.”

  “Just as well I tipped the driver to take the long way to the party. I’d say we have about an hour.”

  “You can’t keep your fans waiting.”

  “My fans can wait, but my cock on the other hand, needs some immediate attention.”

  I undo the button on his pants and lower the zipper, then I grab his hips and squeeze. He lifts his butt, making it easier to slide the pants down, and once they’re around his ankles, I lean in and graze my teeth over his delicious abs. I sit back on my heels so I can remove my jacket and shirt, then add it to the growing pile of clothing on the back seat. The buckle on my belt is next, followed by the lowering of the zipper. It only takes me seco
nds to push my underwear and pants down to my knees before I lean in and press a kiss to Brodie’s lips. I tug the fabric of his underwear under his balls then wrap my fist around his thick length, pumping it up and down as our mouths collide with ferocity.

  When I place a palm on his chest and slip my tongue inside his mouth, he grabs the back of my head, tugging my hair with his fingertips. I kiss my way down his neck and chest, then gently nip the tender flesh of his nipple with my teeth. My kisses continue to his stomach and then down to his V. I keep fisting his cock and use my other hand to slowly begin stroking my own length as I continue south to his treasure trail, where I can smell his arousal, and I hum in appreciation at the shaved patch around the base of his shaft. I slide out my tongue and slowly begin glazing him with my saliva, lubricating the thick length. He shifts on the seat and spreads his legs farther apart, sliding lower. With my fingers curved around the glistening length, I angle it straight toward my mouth. Leaning down, I circle the tip with my tongue, concentrating on hitting all the sensitive spots. I hear Brodie curse from above as I take him all the way to the back of my throat. I grunt and then slide my lips back up as Brodie’s firm hands take the back of my head and directs my mouth at the pace he wants. With every gratifying slide of his cock in and out of my mouth, I flick his balls in my hand and suddenly lose the ability to comprehend anything.

  “Fuck, Deacon.” I hear his warning.

  I massage his balls as his tender flesh swells in my mouth, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he loses his load. I taste the salty evidence of precum on his tip, and I squeeze his balls a little tighter. Knowing he’s about to come at any moment, I slowly remove my lips from the swollen flesh and lean forward.