Chapter 6 Silas
SILAS
Add waking up naked in bed with a man to my list of firsts.
I gazed at the grizzly lumberjack softly snoring beside me, his lips parted. Yep, this was a new one. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I wasn’t nearly as freaked out as I should have been. Yesterday was…well, kind of amazing. Definitely eye-opening.
I’d known I was bi since high school. My body’s reaction to the sight of Pete Jureski’s bare ass in the shower our junior year had been a big fat clue.
However, I’d ignored the signs and thrown myself into football with a ferocity that honestly should have alarmed my parents.
I’d worked out constantly, kept a stringent diet, and even tried steroids for a hot second before realizing consistency and moderation was a better overall strategy.
Dating had never been a priority ’cause girls had always been available.
They’d hung out at parties, cheered on their favorite players at the games, and had no qualms about letting you know they were interested.
My dick had loved the attention, but I’d made a concerted effort to block out background noise in those early days—football had come first. And men were off limits. Period.
No flirting, no touching, no staring. Ever.
I’d commended my stellar control ’cause let me tell you, ignoring cute, funny guys with great smiles, hot bodies, and twinkly eyes had been very fucking hard.
However, I’d faltered in college—once with a newly divorced professor and another time with a baseball player who’d eventually signed a contract with the Padres. Neither had been serious. At all. They’d both been safe bets so deep in the closet, they were halfway to Narnia.
There were a couple of other times in dark spaces where I’d barely been able to see my hand in front of my face let alone the guy on his knees sucking my cock. Those encounters had felt necessary albeit desperate. Like I’d had to know for sure I hadn’t imagined the pull.
For the record, I liked dick. A lot. I liked touching men and kissing them. I liked the contrast of stubble and hard bodies to the smooth skin and curves of a woman. If I’d had my way, I’d have spent more time exploring my bi-ness. But like I said, football came first.
I had no regrets. To this day, being drafted was the biggest and best thing that ever happened to me.
I’d loved my sport and it had loved me. I’d been paid very well to play football.
We’re talking a ridiculous amount. I owned a beautiful house, had a shit-ton of money in the bank, and a slew of cars I drove to fit my mood.
And when I met Alli, I’d been positive I had it all.
But that life was gone now. My contract was up, my locker had been cleared out, and the ink had dried on the divorce papers a long time ago.
My therapist had cautioned me not to think of the avalanche of change as an ending but as a new chapter. Well, waking up next to a man I’d licked from head to toe all damn night was a hell of a fresh start.
Cooper blinked to consciousness, eyeing me warily as he stretched his arms above his head. “Smiling before coffee. Are you some kind of lunatic?” he grumbled sleepily. “What time is it?”
I rolled to my side and checked my cell. “Seven o’clock.”
“Still early and—what are you doing?”
I bounded out of bed and drew the blinds. “Letting some light in. It’s like a dungeon in here.”
Cooper covered his face with a pillow. “My eyes!”
“Baby,” I chided. “It’s snowing. I don’t think it’s ever stopped.”
“Hmm. Come back here.” He leaned on his elbow and patted the mattress. I obeyed, letting out a slutty moan when he cupped my dick. “You are so sexy, so—”
My stomach growled loud enough to rouse the dead. I pulled a sheepish face. “You’re gonna have to feed me first, lumberjack. I’m fucking starving.”
Cooper planted a rough kiss on my mouth. “Let’s fix that.”
He made ham-and-cheese omelets with ingredients I’d purchased at the market. I insisted. I didn’t see myself staying here for more than a few days. If I changed my mind, I could always make another trip to the store…in my rental car.
We discussed the weather and traffic conditions while we ate.
Cooper checked his phone several times, and at one point excused himself to take a call.
I nibbled a crust of toast and tried not to be too blatant about eavesdropping.
Not that he seemed to care about privacy.
He struck me as an affectionate father who made an effort to be present for his kids.
My dad had been like that too…sort of. There’d usually been a football element involved with our father-son time, but that had been cool by me. He loved bragging about his kid in the NFL. If possible, Dad was more bummed than I was about my retirement.
I shrugged off unpleasant thoughts and studied Cooper’s rugged profile, his phone to his ear, smiling as he listened to his daughter’s snow report.
“—like a mountain of snow, Dad! Twenty feet, I bet. Frank couldn’t even open the garage door.”
Cooper’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, his gaze fixed on the fresh white blanket covering the landscape. “Twenty feet, huh?”
“Mom thinks school will be closed for the rest of the week.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I hope so. Jack and Zoe are coming over today. I’m so glad they live close to Mom and Frank. Chase can play video games with someone else for a while and…”
Her voice petered out as Cooper paced into the kitchen, humming and grunting an occasional response.
After a similar conversation with his son, he tossed his phone onto the counter and leaned heavily against the island, his back turned away.
He radiated palpable tension, which seemed odd.
The kids had sounded bright and cheerful as far as I could tell.
They were safe and being well cared for in the midst of a freakish storm. He probably wished he were with them.
That made sense. Cooper the lumberjack was a good man.
I stacked our plates and brought them to the sink. “Everything all right?”
He nodded, his head bent as he moved to the coffee machine to refill his mug. “How do you feel about shoveling the driveway?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not great. And honestly, what’s the point? It’s still coming down out there.”
“Nah, it’s not too bad.”
That was a damn lie. The winds had calmed, but the snow was still falling.
“Really?”
Cooper grunted. “Yep. Your jeans are dry, and you can borrow a sweater and one of my jackets. I’ve got extra hats and gloves too. And don’t worry…I won’t let you overdo it.”
My first instinct was to tell Cooper to shove his shovel up his very fine ass, but I sensed he needed some mindless physical activity. And yeah, the comment about “overdoing it” got my competitive juices going. My brush with extreme elements was yesterday’s news.
Plus, I owed the guy. Shoveling snow was the least I could do.
We worked silently for a while, Cooper sidling close every so often to show me a more efficient way to go about clearing some ground. I could have been irritated at the “lessons,” but I was too distracted by the barrage of new sensations.
I’d slept with this man…naked. I’d worn his clothes, drunk his wine, and had shared things I’d never told my therapist. I’d fucking come out to him.
I’m bi. I’d never said those words to anyone.
For all I knew, he could have taken a compromising pic of me for extortion purposes.
Pay up or your legacy is fucked and forget about those postretirement prospects.
No…I might not know much about Cooper, but I trusted him. And for someone who could count trusted friends on one hand, that meant something.
So I worked till my fingers tingled in my gloves, sneaking glances at the lumberjack bent over his shovel because I could.
I was free to admire his rosy cheeks, his sexy beard, his floppy hair covered by a navy beanie, the blue plaid shirt collar under his heavy winter coat.
I could stare at his ass and contemplate how funny it was that his shirt matched his eyes without judgment.
Honestly, it was a nice way to pass the morning.
I instigated a snowball fight for the hell of it, smacking Cooper in the chest with a rocket from across the partially cleared driveway. His pointed death glare had me howling with laughter. And then he beaned my biceps and officially started a war.
The problem with me was that my off switch went wonky in the face of competition.
I didn’t always know how to rein in the urge to conquer at all costs.
I formed snow into wickedly packed orbs, cradled as many as possible in the crook of my left arm, and shot them at Cooper, playing target practice with his head.
After a few too many blows landed, he held his arms up in surrender only to mash a fistful of snow in my face at his next opportunity.
I tried to dodge him, but tripped and fell into the nearest snowbank, and you’re damn right I took him with me. We wrestled like a couple of idiots until Cooper pinned me down, hovering with his nose against mine, his breath ghosting my lips.
“Cool it.”
“What? You givin’ up, old man?” I taunted.
Cooper’s lips curled in a lopsided manner that was far too feral to be labeled a smile.
No, it was borderline scary. “Don’t be ridiculous.
I never give up. But something tells me you get off on pushing limits, and I’m not about to let you risk frostbite again just to prove you’re a tough guy.
So get up, brush yourself off, and get inside to warm up. ”
It was such a dad-like command that I almost rolled my eyes. But I’d heard him speak to his kids a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours, and this was different. The edge in his voice was seductive yet borderline threatening at the same time. No lie…it gave me a boner.
I pulled him close and nipped his bottom lip. “Or what?”
“Come inside and find out,” he purred, crashing his mouth to mine.