Chapter Eight #2
Oh shit. Yeah, me too. Now would be fine. Sure, my fingers smelled of grease, gas, and porcupine dander—did porcupines even have dander, and who would dare to get close enough to find out—but I was down to show him just how quickly I could unscrew a spark plug, unsolved mystery be damned.
I’ll never be sure which of us made the first move.
Could have been Anders, could have been me, could have been both of us.
Not sure it mattered because as soon as my lips found his, who did what was inconsequential.
The rest of the world slipped out of existence.
The sound of the wood stove fan clicking on and off fell into nothingness as his lips moved over mine.
I turned to face him, sliding into an embrace that felt like coming home after a long deployment.
Anders was timid at first, almost shy, but I was just the opposite.
Perhaps he’d not had the sexual drought I had experienced. Probably not. The man was stunning.
I licked his lips. He opened with a soft sigh that unfurled bands of tightly held need one by one.
The rivets popped as each ferrous belt flew open.
Was I being too bold, too hungry? Maybe he would pull away when my hands found his lean hips.
I licked into his mouth, driven by lust, and was met with a kiss that rocked me back into a display case of weed eater string, goggles, and ear protection.
He tasted of sweetened coffee. His tongue moved over mine as he pinned me to the case.
Something hit the floor. A spool of string, perhaps.
Didn’t know and didn’t care. All I cared about was his mouth on mine and the hot length of his hard dick rubbing into mine.
His hips rolled. My fingers bit into his sides, digging into his ribs and then falling back to his lumbar.
He rocked into me, tongues tangled, breaths ragged.
“I need more,” I gasped when he bent his head to suck on my neck. He bit down softly, pushed his knee between my legs, and began humping. “Ah hell, Anders, yes.”
I grabbed his ass, threw my head to the side to give him access to my throat, and let my eyes close.
My balls drew up quickly. “Fuck, close…sorry…so long…” I panted and felt that hot white burst at the base of my spine spark and detonate.
My dick kicked as I blew apart, filling my shorts with cum like a green teenager.
He grunted as my grip on his ass tightened, his teeth on my jugular.
Stiffening in my arms and his glutes contracting, I held him to me as he came a mere moment after me.
He lowered his brow to my shoulder as he rode out his orgasm.
I let go of his ass and threaded my fingers into those lank but glorious curls.
They felt like satin on my fingers, even if they were still damp with perspiration.
“Oh hell,” he huffed and nosed my flannel shirt aside to kiss my clavicle.
A shudder ran through me as I moaned with pleasure.
Oh yes, that was a hot spot for me. With a grunt, he laved that area as I trembled and cooled, the intensity chilling a bit.
I didn’t let go of him, though. I wanted to hold on to him and this moment when he realized that I had been a jerk.
I’d not asked consent. He hadn’t either, but still…
“That was the most erotic moment of my life. I knew kissing you would be life changing.”
It took a moment for what he said to carve its way through the fog of satiated desire clouding my brain.
I pulled back as far as I could with the debris shield of a weed eater biting into the back of my skull.
He raised his head after dropping one last kiss on my collarbone.
Our eyes met. I saw nothing but sincerity in his gaze, which robbed me of most of my senses.
“You look surprised to hear me say such a thing,” he whispered, cupping my face with his hands, still gloved.
“I am. I’m not exactly the sort of man that inspires other people to grand erotic gestures,” I confessed, feeling oddly out of sorts now that the passion had been spent and my shorts were wet.
“I disagree. You are charming, kind, a good father, an accepting soul, and have the most beautiful eyes and collarbone I have ever seen.” He led my lips back to his.
I didn’t put up any kind of fight. I longed to kiss him more, again, forever.
“Please forgive me. I keep taking liberties without getting your consent to do—”
I kissed him into silence, tightening my grip on his curls to keep his mouth over mine.
“I want you to kiss me,” I admitted, feeling the bite of embarrassment creeping up my neck to flush my cheeks.
It really wasn’t macho to admit you wanted to be kissed or held or loved.
But I did—desperately. And while I had no clue as to why this magnificent man wanted me, I was not foolish enough to push him away.
“I love it. I’ve been dreaming of it since you walked in here for the first time to get mittens. ”
His dark eyes twinkled with delight. “Oh, Mitchell, I have felt very much the same. May I be totally honest with you?”
“Yes, of course.” A trickle of worry danced up my spine.
If this was where he confessed to killing his business partner with a dart gun filled with venom from a lion fish and was using me and the church to launder his dirty money through large donations, I was going to be very upset at myself for not being a better sleuth.
“Della did chew up the first pair of mittens, but after that, I put some of that bitter fruit spray on them. I kept coming in to donate and take mittens solely to see you.”
My jaw hit my chest. He chuckled softly.
“I know that is terrible of me to do. But I liked the gentleness in your eyes the first time we met. And you were so open, so caring. You never made me feel as if I were less than for coming in to take the outerwear from the line. That says so much about you as a man and a human being.”
“I…wow.” I began to laugh softly, pulling a puzzled look from him. “I’m flattered beyond words. I’m so glad you kept coming in, and that we got to know each other. You’re so unlike anyone I have ever met before. I have some questions of my own that—”
The blare of a horn startled us badly. I jumped a good four inches, rattling the display case behind me and dislodging several packages of string. We leaped apart. My sight flew to the window where the auto parts van had just pulled in. Damn it to hell. What terrible timing.
“We can talk later. Do you have a bathroom where I can freshen up?” He looked rather sheepish now. It was a cute look.
“In the back,” I said, and he took off as Larry’s backup alarm sounded off.
I jogged around, picking up string, and then ran to stand behind the counter, glancing down to ensure the mess in my shorts hadn’t leaked through my jeans.
It hadn’t, thank God, or I’d have had to come up with some sort of coffee mishap lie.
“Morning, Mitch. It’s colder than a polar bear’s willy,” Larry announced a moment later as he nudged his way through the front door with my delivery. “You got any hot coffee?”
I jerked a thumb toward the corner and took the box from him.
Ah right, Clarence Grant’s carb gasket kit.
Now I could get to work on his fancy Swedish tiller.
Not that he was going to need it anytime soon, but Clarence was a pickle when he had to wait for anything.
There were also other small items inside the box as well as an invoice.
I’d pay at the end of the month as always, but I did keep all the paperwork for my books.
“You hear about Tilly Newsome’s latest escapade?
” Larry asked while filling a mug and then replacing the empty pot onto the burner.
I gave him a look. With an eye roll that Gilda must have taught him, he turned the coffeemaker off and sauntered over.
“She went out over the weekend with Travis Halliwell and left her boot in his truck. Sunday morning come, and Jackie, his wife, got in the truck to go to church and found the boot and then proceeded to thump Travis about the head with it. According to the guys at the township building, Travis looks like he went a few rounds with Manny Pacquiao!”
Larry always had the hot gossip, or goss as Gilda and her friends liked to say. Not to be rude, but I didn’t care about Travis and his shenanigans. I was more interested in poor Anders trapped in the back of the shop while Larry bullshitted about township workers.
“That’s something,” I tossed out, rubbing my stomach. “Man, am I hungry.”
Larry looked at his watch. “It’s barely eleven.”
“I know, but I was up early to knit and didn’t have time for breakfast.” I lied like a rug. Larry looked amused.
“You and your knitting. Okay, I’ll leave you to your lunch.
I got to run something over to Caleb at the Four Pines shop.
Guess Jackie Paulie had to be towed to his shop this morning after her radiator froze up.
I’m always telling folks that you can’t keep putting plain water in your radiator after summer is over, but Jackie isn’t one of the brightest bulbs in the chandelier. ”
I nodded, nudging him along and plucking my mug from his hand as I angled him out the door into the cold.