Midwinter Night's Dream by Whitley Gray

seemed like both a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time.
    Joe opened his arms, and Errol came to him, easily, naturally, and Joe cradled him against his chest. Errol smelled of pine and snow. Joe whispered, “You okay?”
    “Yeah.” Errol looked up. His eyes were intense, a darker blue. He licked his lips and wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist.
    To Joe’s surprise, Errol took the initiative and took Joe’s mouth in a hungry kiss, hard and masculine. Encouraging, Joe parted his lips, and Errol’s hot tongue pressed in, exploring, turning him on. He’d abandoned kissing for the past two years, not wanting the intimacy. Errol made it a pleasure with the sweet pressure, the soft lips. Joe savored the taste, deepening the kiss until they had to break for air. Blood pounded through him in an exhilarating rhythm.
    In silent accord, they unbuttoned their shirts and pulled them off. Glancing at Errol’s chest, Joe savored the lean musculature. Having seen all of Errol previously, there weren’t any surprises, but he was sexy as hell. Joe coasted his palms along Errol’s sides, caressing him. The warmth was wonderful; Errol’s skin was alabaster smooth and pale and hairless. Perfect. It was so much better to be skin to skin, the heat and softness comfortable and somehow not at all awkward. Joe found Errol’s mouth and kissed him hard.
    Errol stroked him, hands warm as they explored Joe’s back, and then those seeking fingers ran along Joe’s shoulders, down his arms, finally coming up to lightly pinch his nipples. Ah, Christ . Blood thundered in Joe’s head, and inside his jeans, he hardened further. He ached to feel Errol’s hips pressed to his, to test Errol’s desire. Joe backed Errol against the wall, watching that blue gaze darken and smolder. He pushed his knee between Errol’s. Beneath the constraining denim, Errol was hard too, his dick pushing on Joe’s hip.
    God, Joe wanted this—wanted him. Their cocks slid together through the denim, and the kiss grew more urgent, almost aggressive with the nip of teeth and press of tongue. Errol whimpered and thrust his hips forward.
    Slow it down, Blake. Not a get off and get out here. Take your time . Joe closed his eyes and softened the attack, letting up until their lips hardly touched, teasing. Errol smiled against Joe’s mouth. Joe reached for the buttons on Errol’s Levi’s and popped them free, and Errol did the same, unfastening Joe’s pants.
    They were really going to do this.
    Joe slid his hands down the back of Errol’s jeans, savoring the smooth roundness of his ass, the skin cool from the snow. Pulling Errol in, Joe ground their hips together. Errol murmured his approval. It felt so good to touch Errol like this—to take the time to learn what turned him on. For the past two years, Joe hadn’t desired anything more than a quick release. Now he craved something real, an encounter with someone he could come together with in the light of day.
    Joe moved his fingers to the front, slid inside Errol’s soft cotton briefs, and pulled them down. Errol’s dick sprang forward, hot, damp, and hard. Joe savored the low moan as he gently squeezed Errol’s cock and tested the weight of his balls.
    “Jesus, Joe.” Errol shivered and pulled him down for a kiss.
    Joe closed his eyes. Yes. This was what he needed. What he’d been missing. The taste of a man’s mouth, the desire that went deeper than lust, the connection with another human being more intimate than physical union. He broke the kiss and forced his eyes open, wanting to see everything. Every bit of excitement and anticipation, every response to his touch.
    Errol was beautiful. His head was thrown back, exposing his neck, and his gaze burned hot. As Joe ran his lips over the stubble on Errol’s jaw and throat, the light abrasion was heaven, and Errol’s moan vibrated under Joe’s mouth, low and sexy.
    With the lightest touch, Errol’s fingers freed Joe from his briefs and then stroked