Chapter 6 …And Not Indestructible #2
He stood on the edge of a turning point of a gravel road, holding his arms around himself protectively.
I followed his gaze to the side of the road, crisscrossed with deep cracks.
Winding creeks ran over the road and off the edge, creating a small waterfall.
There, a few yards down the steep slope, hung a banged-up Audi, stuck between two pine trees.
Ansel’s car.
Fuck.
It looked like the torrential rain last night had caused a small landslide. A part of the gravel road had been flushed down the hill, and Ansel’s little Audi must have slid with it.
I didn’t know what to say.
With my injuries, I wouldn’t be able to lift the car back up. Even if I miraculously managed to pull it up and start it, there could be more damage to the road further down. It seemed we were stuck.
“How far until we have cell service?” I asked, my tone flat.
“There should be some coverage higher up in the mountains, but I’ve never tried that. It’s at least a one-day hike. Otherwise, ten miles down this road where the valley opens.”
Shit.
I looked at Ansel, hoping he’d invite me back to his cabin. If he let me stay for a couple of days, I’d heal enough to leave on my own. I would even be able to shift again. Maybe.
I wasn’t prepared for the fear in his face.
“Ansel?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“Can you walk back to the cabin?” he asked, his voice shaky. “You must be exhausted.”
“I can. Sure. But we can also continue until you have a signal. If you let me use your phone, I can call someone to pick us up.”
“It’s ten miles down a flooded road. You’re in no state to do that. And even if we manage to call someone, what if they can’t get here? If the road is damaged up here, it could be even worse down in the valley.”
Just then, a few raindrops hit my head.
Ansel made a frustrated sound and threw his hands up in the air. “I just can’t catch a break, can I?”
“I’m so sorry, Ansel.”
Exhaling through his nostrils, he sagged. “Let’s go back before we’re drenched.”
“Well, I’m half naked, so…”
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”
And he started walking up the trail again.
Slowly, I followed him.
The trek back was harder. The rain got worse, and my bare feet slipped in the mud. My ankle throbbed, but I gritted my teeth and marched on. The vision of Ansel’s wood-burning stove kept me going.
Ansel checked on me over his shoulder, his expression a mix of pity and fear.
Why was he afraid of me when he hadn’t been before? Or did something scare him? Something I did?
When we finally reached the cabin, the rain stopped.
Ansel glared at the sky. “You have got to be kidding me,” he told the clouds, then opened the door.
Inside, he poured some water into a basin and handed it to me. “You might want to wash your feet.”
“Thank you.”
I sat outside and rinsed the mud off. My ankle was visibly swollen. When I was done, Ansel had already rekindled the fire. I couldn’t read him. He seemed completely shut off.
“Ansel,” I began in a soft voice. “I’m not dangerous, really. I won’t do anything to hurt you. You’re being very generous and kind to me. I would never take advantage of that.”
“I know.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He was quiet, looking into the flickering fire. His forehead was scrunched up as he seemed to be thinking hard about something. Then he blew out a breath and closed the stove.
“I only have one sleeping bag,” he said, “but there’s an inflatable mattress under the bed. You can use the blanket.”
“Thank you so much. When I’m back in the city, I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
He gave me a tiny, wary smile. “Sure. It’s fifty per night, breakfast not included. We’re currently understaffed, so we don’t provide room service on weekends, but you can take advantage of the minibar.”
I laughed, and the corners of Ansel’s mouth twitched.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”
He shrugged and turned to the stove, hiding his expressive face from me.
Ansel made dinner from preboiled rice and canned beans. I felt useless, unable to help, but he seemed in a better mood. He was talking to me and didn’t seem so afraid anymore. My curiosity about him only grew.
“You said your granddad used to take you here?” I asked while we ate.
“My parents host these big dinner parties every other month. When I was little, I hated it. I had to dress up and be quiet and not stand in the way. There’d be loud music long into the night and loads of strangers milling around.
I wasn’t allowed to play outside of my room and couldn’t swim in the pool while we had guests.
So Granddad began taking me away on those weekends.
My parents were happy to get rid of me when they were busy, while I was happy to skip the suit jacket and tie.
My father complained about Granddad being a bad influence, but the setup was still convenient enough for him to let me go. ”
“Your grandfather was a bad influence? How?”
“Granddad didn’t care if I got my pants dirty.
In fact, he’d lie with me on the muddy ground, hiding in the bushes, watching deer.
We’d eat chocolate for breakfast and dessert before dinner.
He taught me which mushrooms were edible, how to start a fire in the rain, and how to build a shelter.
In the summer, we’d go up the mountain to sleep under the stars.
He told me to watch for the dragons. He said dragons were real.
” Ansel lifted his eyebrows, looking at me meaningfully.
“I believed him until I was about eight or nine. But even after that, I didn’t contradict him.
I liked his stories. They were magical.”
“Your granddad sounds like a great man.”
Ansel glanced at the picture on the shelf. “He was the best.”
I helped with the dishes, then I washed up in what Ansel called the outdoor shower.
It was a watering can hanging on the wall of the shed behind the cabin, equipped with a chain one could pull to tilt it.
He gave me a pot of hot water to top the can off.
I stood on a large flat stone and pulled on the chain.
It worked great. With a watering can above my head like a flower, I soaped up and rinsed, smiling the entire time at the thought of little rich kid Ansel out here with his granddad.
When I came back, Ansel was ready for his turn with a toothbrush, towel, and a fresh pot of hot water.
“Um. About the toilet situation,” he began, blushing adorably. “I just pee in the forest, but the other thing… Do dragons even do that?”
I burst out laughing. “Yes, we do. We eat, don’t we? Stuff goes in, stuff has to come out. I noticed the outhouse down the hill. Is that functional?”
“Eh. Yes. Just…there’s a bucket with mulch. After you use the toilet, you throw in a few scoops of mulch. Stuff has to be covered so it doesn’t smell.”
“Cover poop with mulch. Got it.”
Oh, he was beet red. He couldn’t help the private school boy upbringing after all. He nodded jerkily, and with his head down, scurried away. A minute later, I heard the water hit the flat stone of the outdoor shower. I did not imagine him all naked and wet only a few steps away.
Tired from the trek, we settled for the night around ten. Except I couldn’t fall asleep.
The scent in the cabin got increasingly better. Or worse, for me at least.
Ansel dozed off, huddled in his sleeping bag, while I lay awake on the floor, naked, covered by a blanket. I wasn’t cold, but I felt exposed. Even more so when it became impossible to keep my erection under control.
That damned scent.
Ansel smelled like raw lust with melting blueberry ice cream on top. My stupid dick throbbed more than my injured ankle. I needed to go outside and jerk off, which felt like a crime. But lying just a couple of feet away from the young omega with a raging boner was even worse.
I tried to be as quiet as possible when I rose from the air mattress. With the blanket wrapped around myself, I crept out of the cabin.
The weather had cleared. It might even be sunny tomorrow.
Through the gaps between the black silhouettes of trees, stars glimmered in the dark-blue sky.
The fresh air didn’t do shit to calm my libido.
I limped to a nearby tree and leaned on it with my back to the cabin.
There, I stroked my dick, trying to get it over with quickly and not think about the sweet, young omega sleeping only a few yards away.
Of course, he was all I could think about.
Christ, he looked even younger than most of my students, which should have turned me off, but Ansel must have flipped some switch in my brain.
This had never happened to me before. It had been a good decade since I’d last been interested in someone so young.
It was disturbing, confusing, and way too powerful.
The scent. His plush, full lips. His big, glassy eyes, so warm and deep. The slope of his neck, the soft skin on his throat… I’d bury my nose at the base of his throat and inhale… He’s sitting in my lap, rolling his hips, holding on to my shoulders, and he moans…
My cum splattered a blueberry bush by my feet.
Panting, I stood there, guilt creeping in mere seconds after my release. I’d jerked off to the fantasy of Ansel. If he knew, he’d kick me out in the middle of the night and bolt the door.
I used the watering can from the outdoor shower to wash away the traces of the deed. Then I limped back to the cabin.
Ansel, thank heavens, was deeply asleep, but his granddad looked down from the picture on the shelf. My neck heated with shame.
I cowered on the floor, a couple of feet away from Ansel. He was safe. I’d only fantasized about him. He’d never know. No harm done, right?
The bed creaked. His arm fell over the edge, his hand dangling right in front of my face. His thin, fragile fingers twitched once—was he dreaming of something?
I lifted my head and sniffed at his wrist, careful not to touch him.
Heaven help me. I’d never smelled anything so tantalizing and delicious as Ansel’s innocent scent.
He seemed so breakable, but he was fierce, wasn’t he?
I wouldn’t allow anybody to hurt him—not that there was anyone nearby. But the idea of me protecting Ansel as he slept soothed me.