Yew (Heartwood 2)

Mike loved him for that confidence. They’d been married over eight years. Having that kind of trust was the bedrock of their relationship. “Nope. How long did you keep it a secret?”

“Since the end of April, when the final tallies were counted.” Aidan turned and pulled Mike even tighter against him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me? Why?”

“You taught her everything she knows about schoolwork coming first.”

“And you taught her everything about being committed to her work.”

Aidan laughed, his white teeth flashing in the light from the window. “You’ll never take a compliment without spreading it around, will you?”

“Probably not,” Mike admitted.

“Well, that’s okay. It would be boring being married to a perfect man.” Aidan kissed him.

Mike stood on his tiptoes so it was easier to plunder Aidan’s mouth and have his claimed in return. He ran his fingers through Aidan’s shoulder length auburn hair and smiled when Aidan took off his sunglasses. His husband’s eyes didn’t see but they were a beautiful cornflower blue, just like all the other Kellys that made up Aidan’s Irish family.

Not that Aidan was a Kelly anymore. He’d taken Mike’s last name, claiming that one, there were plenty of male Kellys to keep the family name going, and two, that it only seemed fair since Mike took him in bed. Mike had never quite gotten to the bottom of the truth about why Aidan was so insistent about taking his last name, but every time he thought about it, about Aidan being called “Mr. Delaney” at his job or as a member of the Town Council, he glowed. “You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” he told his husband as Aidan drew back.

Something, a flickering shadow maybe, crossed Aidan’s face. For a moment, he looked thoroughly distracted. Then he said, “Ditto.”

Mike laughed, stepped back, and punched Aidan’s arm lightly.

“Hey, I’m allowed to say that.”

“Considering you can’t see anyone…”

“Okay, fine, Mr. Technicality. Would it make you feel better if I said ‘I have no idea what you look like, you could be one ugly motherfu-’”

Mike laughed. “Okay, so maybe I was being Mr. Technicality.”

Aidan drew him close and kissed both of his cheeks, then his forehead, and finally his lips. “You feel wonderful under my mouth.”

Mike groaned and cupped Aidan’s balls through his dress pants. “I love you.”

Aidan smirked. “I know.” Then he caught Mike’s hand when Mike would have punched him again.

Mike went very still. “When you do spooky things like that, it’s easy to remember you’re a third-degree black belt.”

“It’s easy with you because I know you well. Anticipating other people isn’t half as natural.” Aidan kissed the hand he held. “Now, are we going to keep talking or was that ball-grab a promise of something more?”

They stripped quickly, but Mike took the time to admire Aidan’s muscles as his husband took off his suit jacket, shirt, and undershirt. Aidan was freckled all over, though less so where the sun rarely touched, and he had the world’s most glorious six pack. His pecs were… drool-worthy. And his arms were bulky with the muscles he used to keep in shape. He wasn’t an instructor, but he sparred with a couple of MMA groups in the area. Karate was his strict pursuit and he didn’t mix it up with any other martial arts, but he often wiped the floor with his opponents.

Aidan dropped his trousers and Mike groaned in appreciation. His husband’s considerable package was beautiful to behold, even if it was hidden by briefs. Aidan rarely wore anything other than boxers, but with his cock so defined through the cotton, Mike wanted to ask him to change that habit.