CONNECTIONS
J. Rocci
The Courting Series #6
Copyright © 2017 by J. Rocci
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Contains Adult Reading Material
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Author's Note
Josh and Garrison are two of my favorite characters to write: former Marines, one a cop, the other a lawyer, both reserved but so obviously in love. Connections is the sixth short story in the Courting Series, but can be read as a stand-alone story. I originally wrote this as a short story for Torquere Press' Holiday Sips line, released in December 2010. I hope you enjoy Connections, and check out the other stories in the Courting Series:
Commitment
Cornerstone
Concordant
Concur
Competition
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CONNECTIONS
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Josh's phone alarm vibrates intermittently like a buzz-saw on the nightstand, heralding Christmas Eve morning. Groaning, Josh burrows in closer to Garrison's broad back, trying to wedge his own wide shoulders between his husband and the mattress, head under his pillow.
A sharp elbow from Garrison is enough to prompt Josh to silence his phone. He rolls over with a pitiful groan and lies with his arm outstretched, phone dangling from his limp hand. Why did he set it for so early again? Oh yeah -- guests coming, hosting a Christmas party, etc. Serves them right for being sociable.
Garrison sighs softly when the noise dies, and Josh figures he has a few more minutes of lazing around before Garrison really wakes up for the day.
A shift of Garrison's hips has Josh gasping, waking up pretty damn quickly for a man who went to bed exhausted. His pelvis rolls forward of its own account, his cock hardening as it presses against Garrison's ass, separated only by thin cotton.
"Mmm," Garrison hums, still half-asleep and pushing back into Josh. He nuzzles along Garrison's shoulder, leaving tiny kisses that tease even as his hand skims over Garrison's waist to the crease of his lover's hip. He runs a fingertip lightly over Garrison's cock, grinning when it twitches under his touch.
Garrison moans loudly enough that Josh shushes him, hand starting to pump his cock through Garrison's boxers. Garrison's more awake now, working his hips back to provide Josh with enough friction to go from interested to wanting.
Broad hands fumble past Josh's, pushing the elastic waist band of Garrison's boxers down before slipping into the slit of Josh's lounge pants to free his cock. The feel of his sensitive dick on sweaty, hot flesh makes Josh groan out loud.
"Shh," Garrison returns the earlier shushing with a grin, ass still rubbing Josh in all the right ways.
Josh would be content to get off just like this, but Garrison has other ideas, and the pop of the lube cap makes Josh take notice. Garrison's hand is slick and wraps around Josh's, jacking his cock with Josh until both their hands are coated. Josh muffles his groan in Garrison's back, listening to the wet noises of their fingers sliding together.
Garrison's hand leaves his and reaches back to capture Josh's dick and spread a new palm full of lube messily enough that it's coating Garrison's ass crack and lower back as well.
Hurriedly, Josh presses forward, straining with his slick hand slipping from Garrison's cock to his hip for better leverage. Garrison's hand replaces Josh's on his cock and there's just the sound of them writhing against each other, close enough to Garrison's hole to tease Josh, from sleepy to hot and needy, and the clench of Garrison's ass cheeks as he comes is enough to send Josh over the edge as well.
Josh shudders through his orgasm, the hot splash of come marking Garrison's back, before he flops back to his pillow. Garrison reaches for the tissue box, cleaning himself up before leaning over Josh on one elbow.
"Merry Christmas Eve," he purrs in his deep baritone, giving Josh a chaste peck on the lips that Josh tries to turn dirtier, but Garrison has this thing about morning breath.
"You better clean up quick before the kidlets wake up," Garrison warns him and rolls off the bed as Josh frowns in protest. He heads off to their bathroom, bare ass tempting Josh to follow him.
Instead, Josh mops himself up with tissues and a pack of hand-wipes he finds in his nightstand next to his badge and his cuffs. He doesn't remember how the wipes got there, and he's not asking. Instead, he's going to bask in his afterglow.
The patter of tiny stocking feet past the cracked-open bedroom door has him finally sitting up with a yawn. Their knee-high ninja is awake. So much for sleeping in. Blearily, he gropes on the floor for his track pants and jams his feet in his battered running shoes before heading out to the hall.
Henry is sitting on the foyer floor, face screwed up in concentration as he tries to pull his sneakers on without undoing the Velcro straps. Muttlee is sitting between Henry and the door, gray muzzled face vigilant as the youngest member of the household finally succeeds in getting his shoes on. The German Shepherd has adopted Henry as his favorite person ever, mostly for the carelessly dropped chicken nuggets and French fries at meal times.
"Hey, buddy," Josh says quietly, keeping his voice low in deference to the still-slumbering member of the household. "Are you jogging with me this morning?"
Henry nods vigorously, not looking up as he single-mindedly pulls a holiday sweater over his head. He's already wearing three T-shirts that Josh sees, and Josh can just imagine the state of his dresser drawers.
Chuckling, Josh kneels down to help pull the sweater over his ears, untangling the short ends of Henry's cornrows from the collar. The braids are still holding a week later, so Josh counts it as a win for himself. Garrison's attempt at braiding had only lasted through two days of a very energetic five-year-old who approached daycare like it was a contact sport.
Reindeer sweater straightened, bright orange fleece pants pulled all the way up, and his sister's knit hat with the cat ears pulled snugly over his head, Henry looks expectantly up at Josh with an arched eyebrow that he's definitely learned from Garrison and all the fashion sense of a five-year-old.
"Hands," he says quietly, easily lifting Henry up in the air and setting him on his feet. The hard soles of his tiny sneakers thump on the foyer floor, and he looks up at Josh with wide eyes.
"Shh!" Henry puts a finger to his lips, voice at a stage whisper, but still quieter than his normal speaking tone. "We gotta make no noise."
Nodding, Josh smothers a grin and retrieves Henry's jacket, unsnapping Henry's mittens so the boy can tug them on. He quickly pulls his own sweatshirt on, then the knit cap he wears for running. For the first time since they moved to Vermont, they aren't going to have a white Christmas, but the taste of snow is in the air and it’s a few degrees above freezing outside.
Muttlee wisely chooses to stay inside when Josh opens the front door, but the excited scrabble of claws on hardwood floor echo-locate Munchkin. The Chihuahua comes zipping out of Gabriella's room and down the hallway. Josh just steps to the side as the five-pound fur ball launches himself out the door and off the porch. Munchkin has his collar for the electric fence on, so Josh lets him go.
Gabriella had insi
sted on taking the collar off every night when Munchkin started sleeping in her room, but one morning of a missing dog when Munchkin went exploring without his collar on and that had stopped. Josh still isn't sure who was more traumatized after the ensuing hysterics from the kids -- Gabriella or Garrison. Luckily, Josh had been at work, but he'd seen enough of the aftermath that he hadn't envied Garrison handling that crisis, as horrible as that sounded.
But this is their life now, he thinks as he ushers Henry out the door, locking it behind them and tucking the key in his pocket. It still hits him, moments of bemusement and joy and disbelief. They have two awesome kids and have to deal with all the little and big things, and it's as terrifying as it is exhilarating. The adoption was finalized almost six months ago, and they're all still settling, discovering little things about each other, but Josh likes to think they're happy.
Henry has friends at daycare, enough that they have two standing play dates a week, and he's started taking karate classes three days a week. He may need to see a speech pathologist to help with his enunciation, but he's a talkative, resilient kid and a real sweetheart who just wants to be loved.
When it comes to his older sister's adjustment, though, sailing is a little less than smooth...
Josh and Garrison went to all the parenting classes, and the social