2. Carter
Chapter two
Carter
I suck in a sharp breath the second his hands hit my skin. Holy hell. I must be more tense than I thought.
I’m no stranger to tension. Growing up as a ski racer it was par for the course, no pun intended. Years of training and conditioning on top of schoolwork and traveling the world for different events made for an unusual childhood. Sure, I thrived on the thrill, but the pressure was constant. Months away from my family, driving myself to be the best, trying to make my dad proud, and hiding my sexuality. Those pressures aren’t easy for grown men let alone a kid, although they’re nothing compared to what I deal with now.
Ironically, I’m not referring to my sexuality when I say that, since I’ve been out ever since my racing career ended. I’m referring to my role of CEO of this resort.
When you screw up as a ski racer you don’t come in first. When you screw up as the owner of the industry an entire town is dependent on, well, I don’t like to think of that outcome. Unfortunately, the proof is sitting in a manila folder on my desk, and it’s damning… to the point it could cost people their livelihoods .
The environmental impact report I commissioned nearly a year ago from my newest employee, Maddox, is finally done, and it doesn’t hold the results I wanted.
The western slope at the base of the neighboring mountain, the one that would be ideal for developing more beginner terrain, is home to some endangered rodent, and I’m going to need federal approval to develop their habitat. That could take months if not years of time, not to mention millions of dollars, and would most likely be denied anyway.
Without that expansion, it’s unlikely the resort will meet the profitability requirements Dad stipulated when he financed this purchase and gave me five years to chase my dream of working in the snow sports industry. The first year is in the books, without much to show for it. Not even a viable plan for moving forward.
I hate to think of what will happen if I don’t turn things around. Losing my dad’s money and getting trapped in a job at his firm, where I’ll be able to see his disappointment every day, is only the start. Just thinking about failing again—losing my shot at the career I love—makes my stomach twist. But it’s not just my dream that’s in danger, it’s the entire town. And despite the hands trying to relieve me of that burden, at least temporarily, it’s something I struggle to put out of my mind.
How Katah Vista has survived this long with a dilapidated ski resort as their only industry I’ll never know. Sure, it’s quirky and scenic enough to bring in some tourist dollars, but the resort is still the biggest draw. Half the town depends on this place to survive. If I screw this up, I don’t just lose my dream—they lose everything. And it’s in the red.
Sightseers won’t make up for the lost revenue if the resort closes, so the life of the town quite literally rests on my shoulders. No wonder I’m tense. Although it’s a different sort of tension that’s plagued me since he entered the room.
Dark curls, green eyes—curious, innocent. It’s a dangerous combo. He has fair skin that’s prone to blushing when I catch him looking at me. And then there’s his slim, toned frame with just the right amount of muscle to be firm but not hard…
I’m not usually the type to get distracted by beauty.
Years of unwanted attention from those who want my family name have taught me to put the walls up when I’m in public, and I’ve become so good at it I rarely give anyone a second glance. It’s possible I wouldn’t have noticed this guy if I passed him on the street, but we’re in my office, one of the few places I let my guard down since there’s rarely anyone with me in it.
Janice told me she was sending someone in, though I forgot about it almost as soon as she made that statement. That’s why, when I looked up at the sound of my door opening, I was unprepared to see a man whose natural beauty is more striking than what some of my contemporaries pay big bucks for.
I averted my gaze as quickly as possible, trying to ignore my curiosity, though the lavender scent that floated in with him conjured memories of the therapy room where trainers would use special oils to massage my overworked muscles, which made it damn near impossible to keep my eyes on my desk.
I’m fairly certain I’ve done little more than grunt since he walked through the door, and I’m trying desperately not to do that now lest he realize what his touch is doing to me.
He has this habit of running his hands lightly over my skin before digging in to work the tight muscles. Tingles shoot up and down my spine, regardless of where he makes contact, then fade into a steady hum as he ramps up the pressure. But it’s the gentle caresses he finishes with that have the greatest impact, lulling me into a state of relaxation I haven’t felt since moving to this valley.
I’m hovering somewhere between content and fully limp when his hands suddenly leave me. “Flip over,” comes the soft command.
Holding the sheet in place I roll so my back is on the table. He lathers his hands with more oil and moves to stand behind my head, sliding his hands underneath me so they’re wedged between my back and the massage table. Leaning forward until his chest is hovering just above my eyes, he stretches his fingertips nearly to my ass. Then he pulls back, letting gravity push my spine against the heel of his palms as he retreats.
This particular technique is one I’ve never experienced, and damn if it isn’t the most effective way to reach all the knots I’m carrying. I actually feel the stress evaporate as his firm hands glide under my back. But even with my eyes shut I can feel how close he is in this position. Close enough to lick the hardened nipple that I swear just grazed my forehead. Fuck me. He’s your employee. Keep it professional.
Too soon and not soon enough, he shifts position again, this time working on my arms. Starting at the shoulder he kneads my biceps and triceps, my forearms, then my hands, rubbing rhythmic circles into the fleshy base of my palms and up through the pads of my fingers.
It’s relaxing.
Soothing.
And… arousing .
Holy shit. Are hands erogenous zones? I’ve never had them massaged before, so I never thought to question it, but the tingle is back, warming my body from the inside out. He’s stirring sensations I haven’t felt in… over a year. Sensations my body appears game to unleash. If he doesn’t move on, I’m afraid things are about to get very awkward .
Thankfully, the moment that thought crosses my mind he covers my arm with the sheet and moves to my legs, first the left then the right. This portion is reminiscent of the massages I would get after races, coaxing my tired limbs back to life after they’ve been abused. Pain is quickly followed by relief as his movements force my muscles to loosen.
Heaven .
My body feels weightless, almost like it’s floating. A calm I haven’t felt in months washes over me, letting my lungs expand without restraint as I breathe deeper than I thought possible. A pleasant hum erupts everywhere soothing hands touch me, threatening to put an uncharacteristic smile on my face. I start to drift off just as he moves to my right arm and works his magic on my hand, lulling me further into my state of bliss. So much so, I’m only vaguely aware of a sharp inhale as he lays my arm back on the table.
“Um, that’s not part of my job.” His strained voice rouses me from the stupor I was falling into.
“What?” My voice sounds groggy as I blink the world back into focus.
“That.” He points to my stomach as he casts his eyes to the window behind my desk.
I lift my head just enough to see it’s not my stomach he’s pointing at. It’s the raging boner tenting the sheets.
Shit .
I must’ve been more relaxed than I realized.
“It’s not part of the job.” Sloan keeps his head aimed toward the view as my own flops back to the table.
“I should hope not, seeing as it’s illegal.” I rub my hand down my face as some of the tension he just erased returns. I do not need a sexual harassment lawsuit on top of this already shitty day. “I’m not expecting… you know.”
“Your–” He waves his hand in the direction of my junk “--business doesn’t seem to know that.”
“My business?” I arch my brow, urging him to clarify.
He rolls those pretty emerald eyes. “I don’t know a better term to use in front of my boss. I didn’t… I mean I never…” He paces back and forth, rubbing his temples. “How did that even happen?”
“It’s a first for me, too.” I let my arm drop to my forehead as I sigh.
“Now what?”
“Now, I take care of it.” I lift my arm just enough to see him avert his eyes from my obvious arousal. Interesting .
“Take care of it? Take care of it how?” He darts a quick glance to my dick and back again.
“How do you think?” It’s meant to be sarcastic, though based on the way his eyebrows shoot sky high, he’s not taking it that way.
“You’ll just… here?” He blinks rapidly.
I bite back a laugh. “I was thinking about the bathroom. A shower, actually. You didn’t think I was offering to put on a show, did you?” That last part slipped out before I could stop myself, though I’m pleasantly surprised to see the crimson creep into his cheeks when my words register. Now let’s hope he takes them as silly instead of suggestive. I really don’t need a lawsuit.
“What? No!” He takes a step back, holding his hands in front of him in a universal expression of innocence.
“Well, you haven’t taken your eyes off it.” Pointing that out shouldn’t make me feel better. Somehow, he turns even redder.
“I wasn’t. Or I didn’t mean to… Nevermind.” He grabs my towel off the chair and tosses it at me, then starts stuffing things into his ba ckpack. He’s hot when he’s flustered. I wrap myself up and slide off the table.
“Sorry.” I reach out and put a hand on his taut forearm to stall him, noticing for the first time his lips fall just a few inches below mine. “It’s been a long day, I’m not in the greatest of moods, and this isn’t exactly what I expected either.” I glance down so he knows what I’m talking about. Why did his eyes have to follow mine?
He takes another step back when my cock lurches under the towel.
“I thought embarrassing you would take some of the heat off me. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Now I’m the one holding my hand up like I’m innocent. Hardly .
“It’s okay.” He presses his lips into a firm line as he tries, unsuccessfully, not to look at my crotch. “Is there anything I can do? Not that!” he blurts as his words register. “I mean in the future…to avoid…” He waves his hand in place of saying the words, adorably rattled. Damn that’s cute.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Like I said, it’s never happened before.” I flex my hand around the towel draped precariously over my hips. The movement catches his eye, and my dick jumps again. Fanfuckingtastic .
“So, um, I’m used to customers coming into the spa.” He gives me his back and busies himself taking the sheets off the table, stuffing them in the bag. “I don’t know how to bill for this. Do I send an invoice, do you have an account I should charge this to?” He flips the table to its side and starts folding it, carefully averting his gaze.
“Janice will take care of it.”
“The pleasant woman out front?”
I stifle a laugh. “She is actually pleasant. When she’s not concerned I’m running myself into the ground.”
A hint of a smile ghosts his lips .
“I think that’s everything.” He swings the backpack over his shoulders and turns to leave. “I’ll just… send her the invoice. So um, see you around.” There’s a hint of indecision in his eyes which, to his credit, wander only as far as my chest as he turns to leave. It still makes my cock jolt.
The second the door closes I dart toward the bathroom, my stiff dick leading the way. Of all the times to get turned on… fuck.
If I had a shower in this bathroom I’d use it, but that’s not a perk I enjoy. Lacking any other option, I stand over the toilet and wrap my hand around my shaft, giving it a firm tug. Damn, that feels good. I’m harder than I’ve been in a long time, certainly since moving here, which coincided with a bit of a dry spell. The longest one in my memory, which shouldn’t be surprising since this town, liberal as it is, doesn’t have many gay residents. Only two to my knowledge, and they’re engaged.
Until today, I hadn’t given that much thought. I hadn’t given sex much thought. I was too focused on my career to think about anything other than getting this resort back in the black. Now, I’m keenly aware of how long it’s been since I’ve looked at let alone been touched by another man.
What was it about him that set me off? His looks? His touch. Twinks aren’t usually to my taste—despite their lovely faces I tend to find them a little too delicate—but this one is taller and stronger than I’m accustomed to while still having that soft beauty about him, which my body obviously likes. Or was it just my own long-suppressed desires coming to the surface, which were easily drawn out in this situation?
Hell if I know. Unfortunately, the lack of answers are just as frustrating as this ill-timed erection. Now, the only thing on my mind is the green-eyed brunette who gave it to me. That’s inconvenient. Unwanted. Neither of which stops his image from filling my mind as my body finds its release.
I clean up and get dressed feeling fully relaxed for the first time in months. And slightly guilty that my employee helped with that in ways I’m sure neither of us anticipated. With any luck, he’ll assume the shower I mentioned earlier was the remedy for my rogue erection, and we can both pretend it never happened.