CHAPTER FIFTEEN Chip
Pooch stood by the side of the bed, whimpering. He was torn between jumping on the bed for our morning snuggle or returning to where he’d been just outside the open bedroom door. He returned to the door, peered out, looked back at me, and then began whimpering all over again.
“What is it, buddy?” I asked, sitting up in bed, stretching both arms over my head while craning my neck to see what had him so worked up outside my bedroom.
The interior of the cabin was chilly after the fire had burned out overnight, so I worried about my guest in the loft.
Van had insisted he sleep there even after I suggested we share my bed.
We’d had sex, for Christ’s sake, so the invite to sleep with me seemed acceptable.
He claimed he didn’t want to intrude on my space any further and insisted on staying in the guest room loft.
Our unexpected sexual encounter had surprised me, and of course, I now wondered if we’d moved too quickly. Yet, a one-night stand wasn’t how I viewed my guest. Especially after enjoying the experience so much. But did he see our hookup that way?
Pooch backed away from the door, his tail wagging in excitement when Van peeked his head inside the bedroom. He was holding two steaming mugs of what I assumed was coffee.
“Good morning,” he greeted, smirking and looking insanely cute in my boxers.
He had a serious case of bedhead to go with the sexy vision he presented. I swear my heart actually skipped a beat. The attraction to him was clearly evident. I swallowed hard and attempted to tamp down the feelings settling in my stomach. I felt lovesick.
After catching me glancing at his styling deficiency, he quickly set the coffee on my dresser and fussed with his hair. “I know,” he began. “I’m sure I look like a mad scientist with this hair of mine.”
“What you look like is adorable,” I argued, wondering where the impulse to make him feel better came from.
We locked eyes. I remembered slamming my cock between his legs from behind while gripping his amazingly firm ass cheeks. His ass was stellar, and I knew a thing or two about great asses. I had a major fetish for a fine ass, and his was exceptional.
He blushed and brought a cup to me. I patted the edge of the bed. “Please,” I said.
Pooch immediately joined us. Van, a natural with animals, it seemed, allowed Pooch to nuzzle and lick his face.
“I hope you don’t mind my rustling around your kitchen this morning.”
“Rustling?” I teased. “One night in a cabin in the woods, and you’re already rustling?”
“Hush,” he said, smacking my knee. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re welcome to whatever I have,” I reassured.
“Thank you. I could make breakfast if you’d like,” he offered. “I make a mean plate of scrambled eggs. And if you have cheddar cheese, they’ll be even better.”
Van was boyish in so many ways. A masculine yet sweet voice melted any defenses I was building around my heart. He looked extremely youthful as well. Fresh-faced, with plump, pouty lips, drove me mad with desire to nibble on them.
“Do you use sharp cheddar or mild cheddar?” I queried.
“Duh!” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Did I mention boyish? “The sharper the better, mister.”
“Well, well, well,” I quipped. “Marriage material already, are ya?”
We locked eyes again. He didn’t give me the impression that he was surprised by my comment. Yet, I wondered if he thought me cruel, considering he’d been dumped like me, or if my words pleased him. His expression was difficult to read.
“I thought I was once,” he stated, standing and reaching for my empty mug. “More coffee?”
I decided to change the suddenly sullen atmosphere by whipping the covers off, baring my naked body and erection. My throw-caution-to-the-wind move surprised me. He made me feel playful and joyful, so the outrageous act seemed fun. His eyes landed on my cock before moving to my eyes.
“See what you do to me?” I asked.
“Morning wood is common, mister,” he teased, unbothered by my nakedness, and waved me off. I continued lying there, fully exposed, while he scanned my body from head to toe before speaking again. “Of course, when a dick is that large… not so common,” he added.
“I like your attitude,” I said, standing from the bed and searching for my boxers while draining the mug of its contents. His eyes followed me, mostly locked onto my cock. “I’m impressed you seem unfazed by what we did last night. I mean, after just meeting one another.”
I pulled the boxers on and stood facing him. As if he read minds concerning my need for more coffee, he unselfishly handed me his and took my empty mug. I recognized a likable quality instantly. Van was a caretaker. I’m attracted to caretakers. I take pride in my abilities as a caretaker as well.
“I happened to enjoy what we did last night. Having just met you, or not,” Van said, turning and making his way to the kitchen. He stopped, paused a second, and then turned to face me from several feet away. “Honestly, not my usual routine, but… last night was hot,” he added.
With that stamp of approval, he headed to the kitchen counter. I hurried after and came up from behind him as he refilled the empty mug. “Hot, you say?” I asked, placing my hands on his hips. “You thought my dry humping you was hot?”
Van turned around to face me. “Very hot,” he said, reaching for my hands and holding them in his. “But then again, I haven’t had sex in a year, so…”
I thumped his abdomen playfully. “How dare you!”
We laughed as we made faux-hurt faces at each other. He was a naturally silly person. His nonplussed behavior in a total stranger’s home, after sex, and the first time we’d met, was surprisingly refreshing. To me, it was interesting that neither of us acted weird about the act.
“I liked what we did,” he confirmed.
“Me too,” I confessed.
I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to have sex again, but I held back. He stepped past me and went to the fridge, removing the milk and adding it to the mug he’d just refilled.
“No sugar, right?” he asked, handing me the fresher mug of coffee and taking his mug back.
“How’d you know?”
He placed his hand on my bare torso, outlining my abs with his fingers. I was instantly stiff again. “These are how I know you rarely eat sugar.”
I studied him intently, my eyes dancing back and forth from each perfect detail of his face.
Van was able to maintain eye contact without seeming flustered or uncomfortable, while I stared at him from inches away.
His fingers continued to explore my stomach.
There was a familiarity about his actions and the way he was at ease around me that I found stimulating.
I wanted to know everything about him. And I instinctively knew he wouldn’t hide details from me. He’d been quite open and communicative so far. I’d found the quality rare these days.
“You’re quite open, aren’t you?” I asked. He smiled. “I sense you’re naturally a people person.”
“That’s a nice thing to say, mister.”
I loved how he addressed me as ‘mister.’ I wasn’t sure why, but it hit me squarely in the heart every time he said the word. I wondered why what had happened the previous night wasn’t freaking me out. And I didn’t have the feeling I wanted him to leave, or worried he’d overstay his welcome.
“I like you,” I whispered, unsure how I’d allowed the admission to be vocalized. “Pooch likes you, too,” I added, needing to keep the confession light by adding my dog so as not to expose my raw feelings too quickly.
His fingers traveled up my stomach and between my pecs until he held my chin in his hand. “I like you too,” he said. “And thank you for inviting me to stay with you last night. And of course, with Pooch too.”
The yearning to reveal more of my overwhelming feelings to Van was hard to squash. His body language and the way he held himself were extremely attractive. Of course, he was maddeningly handsome, with a body to die for, but his mannerisms were what had me spellbound.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
After a few seconds had passed, he let go of my chin and turned back to the kitchen sink. His shoulders were broad, with well-defined lats. It took all my willpower not to plant my lips on the muscular outline of his spine, just between his shoulder blades.
He continued gazing out the window at the white landscape beyond before sighing deeply. I sensed regret in the slow exhalation of breath. “I suppose we should see if the roads are passable yet,” he said.
The quiet way he spoke touched me. There was a sadness in his voice I recognized all too well.
Loneliness was what I heard. Like me, I assumed he enjoyed our shared time and hated the thought that, as strangers, reality would force us to face the lives we had twelve hours prior.
A sad certainty that something good was ending too soon.
“The roads won’t be plowed by the county today,” I stated. “On Friday, the news said at least another six or more inches are expected throughout today, and maybe even into Sunday.”
“Oh,” he whispered, still watching the snowfall through the frosty window. “Is that going to be an issue for you? I mean… should we try to see if my SUV can make it to the highway?”
“You probably shouldn’t risk it,” I advised. “I know these roads better than you do, and I’d worry if you tried to get to Missoula in these conditions.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, unexpectedly unwilling to turn around and talk to me face-to-face.
I slid my hands around his waist, interlocking my fingers against his lean tummy. I knew the move would be intimate, but I placed my chin on his shoulder anyway. I knew he felt he was intruding, and I didn’t want him to feel that way.
We watched the winter wonderland in my backyard for several more moments until he joined his hands with mine. The gesture was heartwarming, so I broke the silence, wanting to soothe any concerns he might have about staying with me longer.
“I’d feel way better if you stayed right here with me and Pooch.”