Chapter 12
Hanlon
Okay, so the helicopter ride was pretty incredible once I was able to get myself under control. When we get back to the office, it’s only seven a.m., but I can tell Stone is wired. It’s a hell of an adrenaline rush, that’s for sure.
I do my part to unload the helicopter and prepare it for the next trip.
As I’m carrying one of the supply bags back into the office, I don’t pick my foot up all the way and stumble forward.
How embarrassing.
When I don’t get enough sleep, my fatigue goes straight to my motor coordination.
My movements are slower and clumsier. I think that happens to everyone, but it’s more exaggerated for those of us with CP and happens a lot faster.
When it’s really bad, I walk as if I have a condition called foot drop, which is how my toe just got caught on the threshold.
I slam into someone, dropping the bag as hands clutch my shoulders, steadying me.
“Fuck. Sorry,” I mutter, my face far too close to Stone’s. He doesn’t let go as he talks to me, and I swear to God, that helicopter ride rearranged my neurons because why am I noticing how blue his eyes are?
I slam my eyes closed to shut him out.
“Han?” My name is a concerned question.
“I’m fine. Just haven’t been able to get much sleep.”
“Go home and get some rest then. You’ve had a big day,” he says, totally pissing me off.
“Absolutely not. The shift doesn’t end until twelve-thirty.”
“Hanlon, you need—”
“Do not tell me what I need, Stone. You don’t fucking know me,” I bite way too harshly for how kind he was to me in the air just now. But damn, I’m tired.
“I know that when you’re exhausted, your entire body starts to shut down. Out here, that could put my team at risk. So, I’m not trying to tell you what you need out of the goodness of my heart, Hanlon. I’m giving you an order to protect my crew.”
That’s fair. I can respect that.
It’s an odd time to notice how infuriatingly flawless his skin is, how straight and perfect his nose is, how bright his eyes look underneath his brows and lashes, and how white his teeth are.
What. The. Fuck?
I need sleep. And to get laid. My brain is clearly going off the rails.
But they’ll have to carry me out of this office if they want me to leave before my shift is over.
Ripping myself out of Stone’s grasp, I force myself upright and take a step back.
“Then give me paperwork or some other menial task like filling the snowmobiles with gas, because I’m not fucking leaving until the job’s done.”
He blows out an exasperated breath.
“You’re so stubborn!” he whispers through gritted teeth.
“And you’re fucking insufferable. I thought we established these principles a long fucking time ago.”
“You really do say fuck a lot,” he says again.
“So, you’ve told me,” I reply. “Turns out, it’s my favorite word and my favorite activity.”
I don’t know why I say that. I think I’m so tired my brain is actually trying to sabotage me into a coma because if I’m asleep, I can’t say stupid shit.
“Go home, Hanlon,” Stone says before turning his back on me. “There’s nothing else here for you today.”
“There’s nothing here for me any of the days,” I fire back. “At least not outside of weather patterns and snowpack.”
Jesus Christ, Hanlon. Shut the fuck up! I mentally yell at myself.
Before I can pout anymore, Stone grabs my arm in a vise grip and basically throws me into his office. Following me inside, he slams his door shut and cages me against it.
We’re breathing the same air as he seethes in my face…and oh boy, this is bad.
Really bad.
My eyes drop to his mouth without my permission.
My delirium is out of control. I need to call Micah again. Our coffee dates have been nice, but despite his level of attractiveness, there’s been no burning desire to get naked. But desperate times and all of that…and we have officially hit desperate times.
“I’m doing my best here, okay?” Stone growls at me.
“I know you don’t like to admit weakness, Hanlon, but this isn’t that soft mountain range in our backyard in Vermont.
This is the Wild-Fucking-West, and this mountain enjoys the kill.
Do you understand? I need you to get your head out of your ass and go home and get some sleep.
The adrenaline crash from the helicopter ride, paired with your shitty roommates’ party schedule, is a disaster waiting to happen.
And I know you won’t admit it, but you know I’m right,” he finishes, poking me in the chest.
I swallow hard before nodding.
Jerking off in the shower and then falling into bed actually sounds pretty fucking good right about now.
“Yeah, okay,” I finally relent.
A knock on the office door startles us, and Stone finally takes a step back. I move to the side, and he pulls the door open.
“Everything okay in here?” Jeremy asks.
“Yeah. We’re all good,” Stone lies.
“Okay, well, we just got a call for a backcountry rescue, so it’s time to roll.”
I swing my eyes to Stone.
“No,” he tells me. “Sleep. There will be more opportunities.”
I huff a sigh and head to my shitty apartment.
The spray of hot water feels heavenly on my muscles. I could stand in here all fucking day. My nerves and fears from the morning swirl down the drain along with my shampoo, and I feel lighter than I have since arriving.
Unfortunately, not being bogged down with stress or having to guard my every thought has made my body horny and my brain debauched. Try as I might, I work to picture anyone else as my hand engulfs my cock.
Logan.
Micah.
My ex.
Anybody.
But no luck. Blue eyes under black lashes are waiting for me as soon as I close my eyes. I’m equal parts horrified and turned on as the rest of Stone’s face and body come into view in my mind’s eye.
He’d be so fucking disgusted if he knew what I was doing right now.
So would our parents.
Oh, God…our parents.
How am I supposed to look any of them in the eye ever again if I come to thoughts of Stone?
I try desperately to change my line of thought, but his voice rings in my head, repeating the gentle words he spoke to me on the helicopter this morning.
The way his fingers felt on my neck as they monitored my pulse.
The way my dick reacted to the graze of his hand as he fastened my harness.
I hadn’t even realized my hand picked up speed. My balls are heavy with the need for release, and my dick is as hard as my stepbrother’s namesake.
This is a one-off, I decide. I must be more critically tired than I thought, and this is how my body is playing out its exhaustion.
One time.
Just come and go to bed and forget this ever happened.
All it takes is remembering how it felt to be caged in by him against the door, and I release a guttural groan of shame and disgust, my self-loathing at an all-time high.
I quickly wash the evidence away and crawl into bed.
As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out.