A Not-So-Straight Christmas (eBook)

69 pages | 6x9"
Date of publication: 12/19/2014
  • ISBN: 978-1-941984-30-7
  • Model: 13612 words

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Heat Rating: 2 Flames


Morgan Ventry and Sam Ackland are two gay men who believe each other to be straight, until they are snowed in by a Christmas blizzard. Discussing their pasts leads them to find they have a lot more in common than running a lodge.


Morgan Ventry and Sam Ackland have known each other for three years. Morgan works at Sam's lodge as bartender, closing manager, and general all-around help, and has never once suspected Sam might be gay.

Sam has worked side by side with Morgan and had never suspected he was gay either. Both men have simply shoved aside any attraction, reminding themselves that it's stupid to fall for a straight man. Then they get snowed in by a Christmas blizzard, and have more time on their hands than they know what to do with--at least until they realize they are both gay, and attracted to each other. Then they have plenty of things they can think of to do...

CONTENT ADVISORY: This story is a re-release title.




Morgan Ventry sighed as he trudged in the freezing cold and snow, heading back to the lodge where he worked as a bartender. With the roads closing, the lodge owner, Sam Ackland, had come in to help close the place down and make sure his employees could make it home safely. Great idea, but Morgan's ancient car chose the worst time to break down.

Watching carefully to make sure he didn't lose sight of the lodge, which was barely visible through the thickening snow, he walked back along his tire tracks, hoping they didn't fill in before he could get back into the lodge's parking lot. The place was empty, since Sam always took three weeks off around Christmas. Only the bar and grill were open, for the locals and passersby; tonight only a few regulars who never cooked had been in, and they had left early. Morgan didn't worry about it though; if he could make it back to the safety of the lodge, he had the keys to get in, since he generally locked up at closing time. If they were in for a bad one, Morgan could call Sam in the morning, letting him know he was stuck in the lodge. There was food, and heat, and plumbing. Even if the power went out, Sam kept the fireplace in perfect condition, with plenty of firewood on hand, along with lots of food that didn't need cooking. There was even a pretty Christmas tree in the lobby, decked out in a mixed-up kind of bizarre finery from fine glass ornaments to cocktail napkins with vague drawings on them, compliments of the toddler son of one of the waitresses.

Bitterly cold winds sliced through him, making him shiver violently. He kept moving forward, knowing he couldn't stop. He made it to the turn of the lodge lot; he was almost there. In a storm like this, the below-freezing temps were more of a hazard than the snow was. A few minutes later, he made it into the parking lot and found himself breathing a sigh of relief as he trudged through the drifts and up the steps to the door. With the worsening snow, it had been a risk to leave the car, but with no heat, he still could have frozen to death before things cleared up enough for anybody, even the plows, to find him. Getting lost in the snow had been the lesser risk, especially since he could still see the lodge.

He fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket, and it took him a couple of minutes to actually get the key in the lock, he was shaking so badly. As he went to turn the knob, the door was yanked open and Sam stood there, wide-eyed, mouth open, looking shocked. Before Morgan could say anything or move, Sam grabbed him, dragged him inside, shut the door, and pushed Morgan over to the fireplace. Morgan was still shivering too much to be able to speak through his chattering teeth. Sam yanked off his thick cotton shirt and began peeling Morgan out of his clothes, muttering angrily, "Jesus, Morgan, why the fuck'd'ya leave if you weren't getting far? All you had to do was do was tell me your car wouldn't make it." Sam paused in stripping Morgan, who was still shaking too violently to help get out of his wet, nearly frozen clothing. "Or did you go off the road? Was there an accident?"

Morgan managed to shake his head and stutter an answer. "N-no; car b-broke."

Sam sighed in apparent relief. Pretty soon he had Morgan completely stripped, even of his skivvies, which had kind of squicked Morgan at first, until he realized they were soaked clear through as well. Then Sam helped Morgan get into Sam's discarded shirt. It wasn't much, but it was heavy, warm, and dry. Sam dragged one of the chairs over to the fireplace and helped Morgan into it. Then he pulled off his thick wool socks and put them on Morgan's feet, rubbing them gently but quickly.

"Don't you have some clothes here?" Sam asked. Sam provided lockers in the break room for his small staff, and many kept extra clothes in them, in case of accidents, or getting snowed in.


Sam nodded. "Okay, man, you stay there. I'm going to go run a tub. You're frozen. We need to get you warmed up." Sam hurried from the room, down the hall to the closest room to the bar/lobby area. Morgan concentrated on staying upright on the chair and drawing warmth from the fire, finding it strangely amusing that his teeth were chattering in time with the Christmas music Sam was playing. A few minutes later, Sam was back with a blanket, helping Morgan back to his feet, wrapping the blanket around him. Then he led Morgan down the hall. "I'm glad we still have power--the water's warm. Not too hot, I don't want to shock your system."

Sam led him to one of the basic rooms, and into the bathroom where water still ran into the tub. Sam checked the temp, then took the blanket and helped Morgan back out of the shirt and socks. "Come on, Morrie, in ya get." Morgan might have objected to being helped into the tub like a child, but his body gave another convulsive shudder and Sam had to steady him, so he thought better of it. Once seated, Sam urged him to lie down. "Come on, we need to cover your body as much as possible."

Morgan watched, feeling a little detached as Sam began to examine him, carefully checking his fingers, then his feet, and finally his face. "Well it doesn't look like you've got frostbite, but you were certainly pushing it for hypothermia." He stopped the water and took the courtesy cup from the sink and began ladling the warm water over Morgan's legs, which were bent, sticking up out of the water. The tub just wasn't big enough to stretch out in. Under other circumstances, Morgan would've felt incredibly vulnerable with his legs splayed open like that, but he was still too cold and tired to care. Warmth began to seep back into him, but he still shivered violently. After a few minutes, Sam drained the tub a little, adding hotter water. The warmth felt good to Morgan. He yawned. Sam gave him a small pinch on the inside of his knee, startling him.

"Nope, no sleeping yet, not 'til we get you warmed up and I get something warm in you," Sam told him. He checked Morgan's fingers and toes again, looking satisfied. For the next twenty minutes, he repeated draining and refilling the tub with gradually hotter water, until Morgan stopped shivering and his color improved to Sam's satisfaction. Then Sam helped Morgan back out and to him dry off. He wrapped the blanket back around Morgan and led him back to the lobby.

He had Morgan stand still for a minute while he pushed the couch closer to the fire then had him settle on the couch. "You stay put, I'll make you some soup, and then find you some clothes. I'm a bit bigger than you, but they'll be dry. Sorry, no skivvies, though."

"S'okay. Sorry to be a hassle," Morgan answered softly, yawning again. Why the hell did being half frozen and then getting warm make you so sleepy anyway? Angels on bicycles, it hadn't even been that long of a walk, really.

"No hassle, Morrie," Sam replied, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad you took the risk of walking to the lodge. With this storm, things are going to be shut down for days. Ya'd've froze to death before anyone found you."

Morgan nodded. "That's what I was thinkin'. I figured you went out the other way, so I was going to call you in the morning to let you know I was back here."

"Lemme get you that soup then we'll talk," Sam said. He disappeared, leaving Morgan to sit and stare at the fire, and work on not dwelling on the innumerable things that could have gone wrong with him leaving his car to walk back in a blizzard. He'd made it, and that was what mattered. Being taken care of by a man as gorgeous as Sam was just icing. Too bad Sam was straight. Morgan could certainly think of quite a few ways to show his appreciation.

Sam reappeared from the kitchen with a large mug, his own, Morgan knew, having seen it in Sam's office many times. Both sides said, Give me my coffee and nobody gets hurt. Too much. The funny thing about it was that Sam didn't even drink coffee. Completely detested the stuff. Sam liked to sit at his desk and drink tomato soup out of it and eat grilled cheese sandwiches, particularly on cold, blustery days. Sure enough, as Sam handed the cup to him, tomato soup was in it. Morgan smiled his thanks and took a tentative sip. Tangy, creamy flavor flowed over Morgan's tongue, cool enough to drink up, but warm enough that he could feel it go all the way down.

Sam disappeared on him again, this time down the hall that led to the room Sam kept for himself, for those times when he didn't feel like going back to his house. It was always the last to be rented and it couldn't be reserved in advance. If the place was full, then Sam would let it be used, after someone grabbed his stuff out of it. He only kept the basics, but still. Morgan drank his soup and vegged out. Sam came back with sweats in hand and he grinned.

"I got clean socks!"

Morgan smiled. "Oh good, 'cause your dirty socks... Maybe I'd rather have frostbite."

"Shut up and gimme your feet."

Sam sat down on the couch, while Morgan stuck one foot out from the blanket for him. Sam got a sock on that foot then Morgan gave him the other one, sighing. The socks felt good and warm on his still frozen-feeling feet. Then again, his feet always felt cold. Sam began rubbing them as Morgan drank more soup. "So what's up with your car?"

"I don't know. One minute it was fine, the next dead. I managed to get it off to the side, so it's not blocking the road, but it wouldn't start. Nothing. I wouldn't be surprised that it's just dead this time," Morgan answered. "I was really hoping she'd last until tax time, when I get my refund. I've been saving to get a new one. I got a couple of hundred, but..."

Sam nodded. "I've been there. I'll help you get by, and I'm sure Tammy and Annie will too. It's only a couple of months."

Morgan sighed. Yeah, it was only a few days away from Christmas. The warm weather had lasted unusually long, and the tourists had only really just stopped showing up, passing through the little community on the scenic tour of the Northwest. They'd had dustings of snow, but now they were having their first real blizzard of the winter. It wasn't the first time his car had let him down and his friends and co-workers had stepped up to help him until he got it back on the road, but he still hated putting them out. To him, it didn't really matter that there had been plenty of times in the three years he'd been living here that he'd helped several of them out when they'd needed it, including making it very clear to Annie's ex-boyfriend that he'd better never raise his hand to her again. In fact, that incident had gotten bad enough for a while there that Sam and Morgan had taken turns taking her and her five-year-old boy home with them, according to their respective schedules. The asshole had finally solved the problem for everybody, by getting drunk and driving his car right off the side of the mountain one night. Annie was starting to come back out of her shell and Morgan was glad to see it.

Morgan finished his soup. He snuggled down in the blanket, sighing as Sam's strong hands continued to massage his feet, helping the circulation along. That might be the reason for it, but to Morgan, who'd opened, filling in for Tammy who'd come down with a stomach bug, and had originally been scheduled to close, it felt heavenly on his sore feet. Besides, despite the hot bath, his feet still felt painfully cold, especially his big toes. How long had it been since someone had given him a massage? He couldn't remember.

Sam seemed to realize he was starting to doze off. "Come on, Morrie. Bed." He helped Morgan to his feet, steadying him when he swayed. "You okay sleeping in my room with me? I haven't got the heat on anywhere else, really. Just enough to keep the pipes from freezing, except out here and in my room and office."

It was only then that Morgan noticed the halls that led to the various wings of the building were all shut, trapping the heat in the lobby area. It made sense. Sam's room was off on the same side where the offices and break room were, making it easy to heat a small area. He nodded. It wasn't a problem tonight anyway. He was just too exhausted to be worried about lying all night next to the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Under other circumstances, his cock would be pushing him to play, regardless of his brain reminding him that Sam was straight, but not tonight. Tonight he just wanted sleep and warmth.

Morgan didn't notice much of the sitting room, but the fireplace in the bedroom surprised him at first. A fire was ready in it and Sam lit it, replacing the screen carefully. "I don't usually light it to sleep, but I think you could still use the warmth."

Morgan nodded his thanks, yawning again. Sam chuckled and held up the covers on one side of the king-size bed. Morgan slid in, not bothering to get out of the blanket he was already wrapped in. Sam tucked him in, and went into what had to be the bathroom. Morgan never saw him come back, dropping off in the warmth.


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