Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy by Gillibran Brown Page B

didn’t reply and he came over to me. I could see him reflected in the dark window. His fringe was getting a little too long. Shane would be nagging at him to get it cut soon.
    Pulling me away from the window, he closed the blinds and whisked the curtains closed. “What’s going on? Is it to do with this morning, or something else? Your mother? Was she poorly today?”
    “She’s dying. You can’t get more poorly than that.”
    “Don’t you dare try and trip me, Gillibran. You know what I meant.”
    “Sorry.” I averted my eyes from his. “She’s fine and looking forward to Christmas, which is more than I am. Why can’t we go to Leo’s for Christmas dinner and then come away? Why do we have to stay over for days?”
    “Are you worrying about who else is going to be there? There’s no need. Shane and I probably won’t know everyone who’ll be dropping in over the holiday. It’s an opportunity to meet new people. It will be fun.”
    “For you.”
    “This is about booze again, isn’t it?”
    “It’s about making a choice. I’m choosing not to go to Leo’s. I’m sick of doing Christmas everyone else’s way.” Stalking away from him, I flopped down onto the willow bedroom chair. “I’d rather stay here than follow you and Shane to Leo’s, like some lowly page treading in your footsteps. I’m not going. I don’t want to.”
    He pushed a hand through his hair and gave me one of his sad soft looks. “Something has upset you. I can see it in your eyes, and it isn’t to do with spending the holiday at Leo’s. Leo is the excuse to play out your bad feelings. I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
    “I don’t want to spend Christmas floating around like some sober spectre watching arseholes like Jak having a good time. I swear if he mentions epilepsy to me one more time, I’ll stick my hand down his throat and yank his cock and balls out through his big mouth. Plus, it’ll be embarrassing opening presents in front of people I don’t know.”
    “Enough! There’s no reasoning with you when you get into one of these tempers. Take your medicine or I’ll call Shane to come and deal with you. He’s got serious work issues, so believe me, he’s in no mood to deal leniently with one of your pissy fits.”
    As if on cue Shane shouted from the hall. “Dick?”
    “Master calls, best away.”
    It was snarky cheek too far. Dick made a grab for me, yanking me out of the chair by the scruff of my top. My feet barely touched the floor as he hoisted me from chair to bed, manhandling me into it. He thrust his face close to mine, hissing, “be a good little boy and go to sleep, or this Daddy will take a paddle to your backside.”
    “Dick?” Shane’s voice boomed again, sounding irritable. “What are you doing up there?”
    “I’m on my way, Shane.” He addressed me again. “Take your meds. If they’re still there when Shane comes to bed, he’ll skin you alive, and I’ll help him.”
    He left the room. I lay still, until my adrenaline level returned to normal. Dick is as tough as Shane when he puts his mind to it. My body felt jarred from his rough handling. He’d moved me across the room and swung me into bed as easily as if I were a rag doll. He has a tensile strength honed by the strenuous bondage games he plays with Shane.
    I took my medicine and switched off the bedside lamps. Curling on my side, I closed my eyes, surprised by how tired I suddenly felt. The encounter with Dick had dissipated my tension. Sometimes I need my balls busting.
    I woke in the early hours. The men folk were sound asleep beside me, Shane spooning Dick. Both were naked. They’d had sex. I could smell their sperm, especially Shane’s. It has an acidic scent, and a sharp taste, probably because of all the coffee he consumes.
    Digression: believe it or not, what you eat and drink affects the smell and flavour of your love juice. So if you’re planning to partake of cocktails, encourage the donor to