Chapter 1 #2
I cocked my head. “Something tells me you got a lot of good grades.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Now, how could you possibly know that?”
Heat crept up from my chest, up my neck, and into my cheeks. “Well, I just…” I swallowed.
“Plenty of people see me and assume trouble.”
Whether he meant the motorcycle thing or the color of his skin, I wasn’t certain. “I don’t judge.”
“And yet you just did.”
“Uh…” Damn, he’s right.
He smacked my biceps. “I’m teasing. I’m an upstanding citizen. Never so much as a parking ticket.” He tapped his chin. “Well, that one on Davie Street in Vancouver…”
I grinned. “The place where I’d been heading.” Needing to get us back on track, I gave him the once-over. “This is so much better than that.”
He laughed. “You don’t know that yet.” Then he sobered. “I’ve been in town three days, and I’ve met the hunkiest ginger in town.”
I rolled my eyes. “You haven’t met Maddox Laxana-Baker, Justin Powers, or Ryan Cox.”
He blinked. “That many hunky guys?”
“Hunky gay ginger guys. And those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. I mean, there’s—”
“Why don’t we focus on the here-and-now? I’m here and you’re now.”
“Oh, I like your way of thinking.” I beckoned him toward the cabin. “It’s not much.”
“It’s yours?”
“Yeah.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Then it’s perfect.” He passed me—coming close enough for our chests to brush—and stepped into my home.
My cock, previously at half-mast, perked right the fuck up. Now, would be nice…
I followed Ulysses into the cabin, again trying to see it from his perspective.
He pointed to the loft. “You sleep up there?”
“Uh, no. There are two bedrooms at the back of the house. One of them’s mine. I use the loft…for other things.” Things I wasn’t going to share.
Gently, he laid his helmet on the bench by the front door. He pointed to his awesome shit-kicker black boots.
I grinned. Then removed my cowboy boots. Sometimes, when I went into Vancouver, I wore a silk shirt, linen trousers, and a leather jacket. When I wanted to play up my more intellectual side.
Most of the time, though, I wore cowboy boots, a chambray shirt, and a belt.
My blue-collar look. I was a guy who showered at the end of the day, and I had no problems owning that.
I might’ve attracted certain guys more than others.
Frankly, though, I had my pick. I had a bit of a soft spot for other guys like myself.
I had hooked up with a rebar guy with facial tattoos a couple of years ago—
And why, precisely, are you thinking about some dude named Travis when you have this amazing specimen of a man before you?
Good question.
I gestured to his dusty leather jacket and black jeans that molded every inch of his sexy body.
He shucked off the jacket and handed it to me.
“Let me wipe the dust off. The bathroom’s the first door on the left. My bedroom is the one next to it. Forest green. Just in case you hit the lavender-and-white frilly lacy one and wonder.”
He advanced right into my space. “I don’t give a shit if you’ve got red satin sheets and pink carnations.” He cocked his head. “Okay, they might not look good together. But you know what I mean.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I do. But I don’t want to fuck in my mother’s bedroom.”
“Your mother lives here?” His eyebrows shot up.
I laughed. “Not anymore. And she knocks before she comes in. Oh, and she’s working the overnight shift at the hospital and always goes straight home to bed. So we’re not going to have an unexpected guest.”
“No coitus interruptus?”
“Nope.”
“Good. I’ll shower and then…” He drew his hand lazily down my arm. “You’ve got condoms and lube? I can’t wait to fuck you.”
I swallowed. “Hell fucking yes. To all of it.”
He leaned forward and tilted his head upward.
I lowered my head.
Our lips touched. Brushed. Just the lightest of touches.
Then he slapped my ass and sauntered across the great room and toward the bathroom.
Grateful I always cleaned up after myself—and therefore certain the bathroom was meticulous—I hotfooted to the kitchen, where I proceeded to wipe off the worst of the dust. Although we were only in the beginning of July, we’d been without substantial rain for months.
The dry conditions meant we were in for a long fire season.
I didn’t handle wildfires, but—closer to home—we worried about structure fires igniting dry grass, fields, and the abundant trees that were everywhere in town.
The sound of the hot water turning off hit me.
Jesus. Either I’ve been standing here longer than I thought, or he just had the shortest shower on record.
I hung his coat on a hook near the front door and headed straight for my bedroom.
Only to come up short at the sight of the most stunning sight I’d ever beheld.
Ulysses. All gleaming dark skin. Still covered in water drops. One of which ran in a rivulet down his chest to his impressive abs. His sparse chest hair arrowed from his pecs to his happy trail and lower still.
I licked my lips. And tried to studiously avoid looking at his very uncovered cock. “Couldn’t find a towel?”
Right. Because that’s the most important thing at the moment. Good Lord.
He chuckled. “Why get a towel wet? I intend to make you sweat—and come like a freight train several times—so you’ll need to change the sheets anyway.” He gestured. “You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”
I started unbuttoning my shirt, and I headed toward my bedroom.
When Mom moved out, I’d bought a brand-new queen-sized bed. One I hadn’t brought many men to. I preferred going to their places. Or a cheap hotel if I wanted to stay the night in Vancouver. I wasn’t picky.
I tossed my shirt over the back of my reading chair and reached for the button on my jeans.
“Let me?” Ulysses’ deep voice resonated off the walls made of tree trunks. This house was old-fashioned that way. Constructed by hand fifty-five years ago.
“Sure.” I raised my hands to give him full access.
His smile was downright lascivious. He undid the button, lowered the zipper, and tugged.
Jeans and boxer underwear followed and soon pooled at my feet.
He knelt before me. “May I…?”
“Hell fucking yes.” My cock stuck out with interest.
He brushed his knuckles along my length.
Electricity arced through my body.
Meeting my gaze, he fingered my red pubic hair. “Cute.” Then, with little warning, he took me into his mouth.
The sensation of heat shot through me. As his talented tongue circled my crown, I grasped his shoulders for balance. When he pulled me down deeper, my breath quickened. His diligence echoed within me as I inched closer and closer.
What the fuck?
I’d never teetered so close to climax so quickly.
Maybe I’m even more attracted to him than I realized. Or maybe it’s the adrenaline from the near-miss. Hell, I haven’t even asked him again if he’s okay… Although, admittedly, if he wasn’t okay, then he wouldn’t be rolling my balls in his hands as he continued to suck me.
“Ulysses…” The word came out on a hiss. “I’m coming.” Jesus, am I ever.
He redoubled his efforts and swallowed me down.
My balls drew up, and I came like a freight train—just as he promised I would. Like the trains whose whistles I’d hear late at night when the world was still.
My mind spun as he continued to swallow everything I gave him.
He moaned
I peeked down to spot his impressive erection he was palming. I sucked in a breath. “I want that. In my mouth, in my ass—I don’t care how. Just don’t fucking come unless you’re inside me.”
He chuckled, with my cock still in his mouth.
The reverberations shot through me, and one last bit of cum escaped me.
He swallowed. Then he gazed up at me. “Your ass, if it’s all the same with you.”
“Do you want me on my back or with my ass stuck in the air?” That was the position I tended to favor—especially with one-night stands. I liked the impersonality of it. Tonight, though—
“On your back. I want to see your face when you come again.”
My cock stirred.
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, to be eighteen.”
“Hey, I’m twenty-six.”
“If you say so.”
I rubbed my hand against his shorn hair. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to know better.” Yet he offered a grin to belie his words. “Thirty-nine with forty just around the corner. Now, you wanna talk or you wanna fuck?”
“Oh, fucking now, talking later.”
An expression darkened his face for just a moment.
Was that the light or something else? Should I ask? Before I could, though, he grabbed the globes of my ass and squeezed.
Pleasure shot through me at the thought of having him inside me.
I snagged the comforter and dragged it down.
Too hot these days. The cabin was built for a nice cross-breeze, but the unrelentingly sweltering days of summer were now upon us.
I yanked the top sheet down as well. Then I moved to the nightstand.
I made a show of pulling out the lube and a strip of condoms.
He'd risen to his feet and gave me that sultry grin I was liking more and more.
“On the bed. In the middle.”
“Yes, sir.” I winked as I followed his instructions.
I placed a pillow behind my head, then laced my fingers, grasping my short hair.
Bossy worked for me. Being a bottom worked for me.
That said, for the right guy—and the promise of hot sex—I could top and order the guy around.
Not often, though. I liked what I liked.
Ulysses palmed his cock again before grabbing the lube and a condom. He offered a more enigmatic smile as he climbed onto the bed.
I spread my legs so he could position himself between my thighs.
His gaze lingered on my face before heading down the length of my body. “Finn the firefighter, you are a thing of beauty.”