Marcus and Jim

Marcus had candy cane latte in each hand and a bag of biscotti between his teeth. He was doing fine, really, until he got to the door and couldn't figure out how he was going to open it. Maybe he should have left stuff in the car, opened the front door and then gone back for the goodies. Hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Jim should be home, though, so he kicked the door with one foot.

"Coming!" It sounded like Jim was laughing. "Master? Love? Is it you?"

The door was flung open, his beautiful, muscle...