Heat in the Kitchen
Heat in the Kitchen
“You want me to cook Thanksgiving dinner for your family?”
Allen looked everywhere but at Layton. “Well, yeah. You know what it’s like to suffer through my mother’s cooking, and we already decided not to fly to see your dad, so…”
“The last time your family came to dinner, you gave me a blowjob in the pantry, and I burned the chicken.”
Allen had the decency to blush. “You know how I get when you wear an apron. It brings out the animal in me.”
Layton gave him a hard stare. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be good.”
Layton sighed. “No, you won’t, but that’s part of what I like about you.”
“So what should I make?”
Allen’s eyes widened. “You’ll do it? For real?”
Layton wanted to strangle him. “I didn’t think I really had a choice.”
“Well, there’s always dry turkey and instant mashed potatoes.”
“Any chance of skipping it all and spending the day in bed?” Layton asked.
Allen smirked. “I’d sure be thankful then, but no, my mom would be hurt if we were in town and didn’t spend the day with her. There’s always the day after Thanksgiving though.”
“All right. I’ll cook, but no interruptions this time. There’s no point in having me make dinner if we’re just going to eat something burned anyway.”
Allen raised two fingers and tried to look innocent. “Scout’s honor.”
* * * *
Layton pulled the turkey from the oven. He’d cooked it breast-side down, a trick he’d learned many years ago, and he knew it would be juicy and perfect. He slid two pumpkin pies into the oven and set the timer. The temperature would need to be lowered in fifteen minutes, but that gave him plenty of time to run to the bathroom and maybe even to hide in there for a few extra minutes and escape the chaos. He glanced around the kitchen. Everything appeared to be under control. Hopefully, he could trust his nephews not to snitch anything if he left the kitchen unattended.
He peeked into the family room as he walked by, but he didn’t see Allen. Most likely he was out back with his brother-in-law.
Layton hurried upstairs before anyone could corner him and slipped into his bedroom to use the en suite bath. When he was done, he washed his hands and stood at sink, enjoying the quiet.
As he turned to go, the door swung open.
Allen stepped in and closed the door behind him. The look on his face said Layton was in trouble.
“What are you doing?” Layton asked.
Allen smiled like a hungry predator.
Layton made an attempt to step around his lover, but Allen grabbed him and hauled him in for a kiss, more than a kiss, really, a full on assault on his senses.
Allen groped him roughly, squeezing his ass and forcing him up against the hard length of his cock. Layton’s shaft began to swell too as Allen pushed his tongue into Layton’s mouth, tangling, tasting, thrusting. Layton’s resolve ebbed away. He sagged against Allen and let him have his wicked way.
Somehow Allen had gotten his shirt loose from his pants, and he was sliding his hands up Layton’s bare back. Layton wanted to feel skin on skin. Who cared about pie or the guests they had downstairs?
Allen pulled away, leaving Layton panting. “Turn around and put your hands on the counter.”
Even the small distance between them was enough to let reality swoop back in. Layton glanced down at the apron he was wearing, a green one, covered in fall leaves, one Allen had given him just for this occasion. He should have known better.
“You’re not doing this to me again.” Even as he said the words, he knew he’d give in.
Allen grinned. “Oh but I am.”
Allen grabbed Layton’s arms and spun him roughly. “Put your hands on the counter. Now.”
Allen’s commanding tone did the same thing to Layton that the sight of him in an apron did to Allen.
He leaned forward and gripped the counter. “Your whole family is downstairs.” He tried to protest, but his voice was breathy, lustful.
“Yep,” Allen said as he pulled open a drawer and grabbed the lube.
“They could hear us. They could…”
Allen stepped up behind him and palmed Layton’s cock through his pants.
Layton sucked his breath. When Allen took over like this, he was powerless to resist. All he wanted in that moment was Allen’s dick buried in his ass, and Allen knew it.
Their gazes met in the mirror, and Allen grinned when he saw his flushed face and wide eyes.
“You love this, don’t you?” Allen asked.
Layton pushed his ass back and rubbed against Allen’s erection. “You won’t get any pie if you keep me here.”
Allen unfastened Layton’s pants and pushed them and his boxer briefs over his hips, letting them drop to the floor. “I don’t need pie when I have this ass.”
He ran his hands over the skin he’d exposed, and Layton’s cock jerked. He was going to give in. He was going to do whatever Allen wanted.
Allen wrapped a hand around Layton’s cock and jacked him with firm, fast strokes. “Later tonight, you’re going to wear that apron and nothing else, and I’m going to do you over and over until you can’t walk.”
“What about now?” Layton’s words were low and strained.
Allen bent over Layton and nibbled his neck, making him shiver. “This is just an appetizer.”
Layton’s head fell back as he reveled in the feel of Allen’s lips on his neck. “Then feed me.”
Allen made a low noise like a growl and pulled away long enough to slick up a few of his fingers. Layton groaned as Allen found his hole and opened him up. When he curled his fingers over Layton’s sweet spot, he bit his lower lip, desperate to keep from crying out and letting anyone here him.
Allen pulled his fingers free and teased Layton’s hole with the tip of his cock.
Layton looked up, locking gazes with Allen in the mirror again. They looked debauched, a mockery of the sweet family time Thanksgiving was supposed to be. “You promised you wouldn’t do this again.”
Allen chuckled and drove forward, making Landon gasp.
“I.” Allen pushed in a little more.
“Was.” Layton made a strangled sound as Allen filled him up.
“Never.” Layton gripped the counter so hard he feared in would crack.
“A. Boy. Scout.” Allen seated himself fully with a grunt.
“I guess not,” Layton said when found the ability to speak.
Allen grinned, holding Layton’s gaze in the mirror as he pulled out. He thrust back in faster and harder. Soon Layton couldn’t think, couldn’t remember to be quiet, couldn’t do anything but hold on for the ride as his lover fucked him deep and oh so good. Allen was truly something to be thankful for.
Both men were grunting, groaning and cussing by the time Allen drove in a final time and came with a shout he muffled against Layton’s neck.
Allen stroked Layton’s cock, and Layton bucked hard against his hand, coating it and the floor with spunk.
When they could breathe again Allen grabbed two towels and handed one to Layton.
As he started to clean up, Layton heard shouting then a far away sound penetrated his sex-fogged brain.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Oh fuck, that’s the timer.”
“Uncle Layton? Are you up here?” Allen nephew was called him.
“I’m here. Just using the bathroom.”
Allen covered his mouth with his hand to silence his laughter.
“The timer’s been ringing for ages, and there’s a funny smell in the kitchen.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Layton scowled at Allen as he zipped up his pants. “I warned you. Now the pies are burnt, and I don’t have any more pumpkin.”
Allen smiled, showing no sign of remorse. “Pie or no pie, this is the Best Thanksgiving Ever.”
©2012 by Silvia Violet
Subscribe to my newsletter to receive a FREE BOOK
and sneak peeks of upcoming releases.