17. Sloan
Chapter seventeen
Sloan
“ I ’ve been here over a year, Al. You and Finn need your space.” I stuff a stack of folded t-shirts into my duffel bag.
“We have plenty of it since you’re hardly here.” My sister leans against the headboard and sticks out her lower lip, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Does that pouty act work on anyone other than Finn?” I shoot her a wry look as I add more clothes to the bag.
“Maybe.” She sticks out her tongue. “For real though, why would you want to live in employee housing? This has to be so much better.”
“Tiptoeing in after work so I don’t wake you guys up is hardly ideal. Plus, I’ll gain nearly an hour in the morning by not having to catch the bus to the resort for my shift.”
Though both are valid reasons—parking in particular since it’s a bit of a nightmare during peak tourist season—they aren’t the driving factor behind my decision to accept Carter’s offer. Ultimately it came down to the man himself.
First off, owner or not, he’s assuming a certain amount of risk by putting me up at the resort. There’s still a board of directors, and his father, who’d all probably object to this arrangement if they knew about it. If he’s willing to jeopardize his position just to see more of me, that speaks volumes about his feelings, which is undeniably reassuring.
Second, in my heart I know Carter won’t do anything to influence my current or future jobs, and as long as I know the truth about my career, it doesn’t matter what other people think. Admittedly, I still struggle with that thought process, but I’m trying to move past it, and what better way to do that than jumping straight into the fire?
Lastly, I think this could be the start of something good, and I want to explore it without interference from people who might mean well but would add unwanted pressure. Finn and Ally fall into that category. They’re protective of me, a result of the bullying I suffered growing up for being both smaller and gayer than other boys, and given they’re undecided about Carter, I don’t want to broadcast how much time I’m spending with him. Especially since I want to be with him all the time.
I have enough experience with dating to know that some of my feelings are due to lust. The adrenaline and excitement that comes with being close to someone you’re physically drawn to. My body aches for his all the time, and I want the freedom to satisfy that ache without having to be deceptive about where I am and what I’m doing. But being physically close to Carter is only part of the reason I accepted his proposition.
Ultimately, it’s what he didn’t do that made my decision. He didn’t pressure me to agree with him or pout about my reasons for wanting to think about things first. Instead, he told me I was incredible and gave me the space to decide for myself how I wanted to move forward.
Finn treats Ally with the same kind of respect, and that’s something I’ve always admired about their relationship. Watching them reminds me of the way my father looked at my mother. How they were both best friends and partners. Ultimately, those examples helped me recognize what a good thing I have with Carter, which makes him worth bending the rules for.
My sister and her husband don’t see that yet, though I know they’ll come around, especially since Carter’s started to consult Finn on his plans for the resort. Once they’ve had some time to accept each other as colleagues I’ll come clean about Carter being my boyfriend or lover or whatever he is. Damn Lennon for putting that word in my head.
“You’re young, sleep is overrated.” Ally brings me back to the present.
“So is having a roommate.”
She hucks a throw pillow at me. “Isn’t there some big wait list for employee housing at the resort? Tell me again how you got a spot.”
Carter and I rehearsed this part, so we’d have the same story. It doesn’t exactly eliminate speculation about us, but it glosses things over.
“It’s a tax thing. The resort has some rooms undergoing minor renovation, which would normally be a cost they have to absorb, but temporary employee housing is non-taxable, so they can claim the room.”
“And he offered it to you, why?”
I lift my shoulders as I spin to the dresser to get another stack of clothes. “Probably because I invited him to the bike race. I don’t think anyone else has invited him anywhere.”
“But you have to live through a renovation? Is that even legal? Don’t they have occupancy rules and stuff?” My sister scrunches her nose in distaste. In addition to being a fashionista, she’s a neat freak.
“It must be if he offered. And it’s not like a major renovation, it’s stuff like leaky faucets.” Please let that be the last question – this won’t hold up if she dives too much further.
“Do you at least get to use the amenities? Like the gym and the pool and stuff?” I can practically feel the wheels turning in her head.
“If I do, I bet I can have guests.”
“Maybe I should help you pack.” She hops off the bed and grabs a suitcase from my closet.
“Subtle,” I mutter under my breath.
“Hey, there’s not exactly an abundance of pools in this town. If my brother has access to one, who am I to tell him not to take it.”
***
A few hours later, I pull my trusty SUV into the parking garage and find Carter waiting for me, one of those rolling luggage carts in tow. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of his customary suit, and his jaw has more stubble than usual, which makes the gleam in his eye seem more predatory. Does this man ever not look hot?
“Did you get everything, or do you need to make another trip?” His powerful stride sends a tremor through my body as he approaches and lifts the back door open.
My eyes roam over the bags full of clothes. “Sadly, this is the extent of my possessions.” I feel a brief pang of regret that at twenty-five most of what I own can be reduced to a handful of suitcases, since I sold virtually everything before making the move west.
“No skis?” He arches a brow in my direction.
“They’re in a locker at the base area.” Most locals keep their gear at the resort, so they don’t have to lug it back and forth each time they hit the slopes.
He nods in understanding, seeming to sense some of my melancholy. “I only brought clothes with me when I moved here, too. The apartment was already furnished, and the only memorabilia I have is from my time with the ski team. Since that didn’t turn out the way I wanted, it seemed silly to bring it.” He starts piling bags on the luggage cart.
“What do you mean it didn’t turn out?” I watch his muscles flex under his shirt as he works.
“Blew my knee during the Olympic trials, so I didn’t qualify the first time I tried for the team. By the time a second chance came around, I was roughly a decade older than the rest of the field and it showed.”
His flat tone suggests he’s reciting that story instead of reliving it. The pain must still be fresh, even though it had to have happened at least two years ago.
“Your place doesn’t look as impersonal as you make it sound.” I try to steer us back to safer ground.
“The designer did her job well then.” He closes the trunk of my car, and with a hand on my back, points me in the direction of the elevator.
“You didn’t pick any of that stuff out?” I blink back my confusion, trying to reconcile the warm tones and clean lines of the furniture and artwork that decorate his place. It seems to fit him. Though as I search my memory, I realize I’ve never seen any pictures or trinkets that would really personalize things.
“I told her what colors I like.” He shrugs indifferently as he starts pushing the cart. “The view is the only thing I was ever really interested in.”
“But you’ve been here a year. You haven’t added anything you like since then?” Despite our nearly similar height, I have rush to catch up with his long strides .
“Getting comfortable felt a little like tempting fate, under the circumstances.”
“Or it could be manifesting fate. You know, instead of second guessing it.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing by putting you under the same roof.” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him as the elevator doors shut, slamming his mouth to mine.
His stubble scrapes along my jaw as he traps me in a bruising kiss, almost as if trying to prove to me I’m his. He doesn’t need to, but my body responds all the same.
Sliding my hands over his firm chest, I reach around the back of his neck, urging him closer. He pulls me flush to him, erasing all the space between us, and a subtle little tingle starts to pulse the length of my semi. How does he do this to me with just a kiss?
The ping of the elevator reaching my floor has us pulling apart, though not enough to plausibly deny what we were doing. Fortunately, the hallway is empty. Our secret is safe.
Pushing the cart in front of him, Carter leads us to my new room. It’s at the end of the hall, as removed as can be from the elevator and any other guests, both for quiet and privacy.
Using the card, I unlock the door and hold it open for Carter and the luggage. It slams shut with a heavy bang when I release it, and I get my first look at my new space.
The door opens to a tiny storage area on my right, the kitchenette on my left. Dark brown cabinets are topped with a white quartz counter, with two stools situated next to a breakfast bar. An L-shaped couch sits on one side of the living room and a bed on the other, with a wall-mounted TV between them. One that can swivel to face either area .
Muted brown tones cover the walls and the floor, with splashes of color on the wall from generic paintings that probably adorn every room. A thick white comforter is draped over the bed in the far corner, next to a door that I assume leads to the bathroom.
All in all, there’s nothing remarkable about the space, but it’s clean, and it’s mine alone. The freedom it will bring more than makes up for what it lacks in appearance. Or so I tell myself.
“Will this do?” Carter asks, lifting my bags off the cart and setting them on the floor.
“Of course.” I rub the slight chill from my arms as I turn to face him, a tight smile on my face. Carter catches one look at my expression and reaches me in two strides, wrapping me in his strong arms.
“Let’s be clear, Sloan.” He cups my face in his hands and rubs his thumb over my cheek. “I’d rather you stay with me than in this room, but I don’t expect you to. I know for appearance’s sake, and maybe even your own comfort level, you need this space. But my place is yours, and I’d be happy to have you stay with me as often as you like. Now, do you want to unpack your bags here, or at my place?”
Whether it’s the husky timbre of his voice or the desire that laces his words I’m not sure, but instead of answering I rise on my toes and throw my arms around his neck, bringing our lips together.
After a moment’s pause, he catches up, his firm hands cupping my ass and hoisting me so I can wrap my legs around him. The earlier tingle returns as my cock fills, the growing intensity causing my hips to inch forward in search of the friction only his own arousal can provide. As I rock forward, I’m rewarded when the rigid outline of his cock meets mine.
“Sloan,” he groans against my lips.
I reach between us and clasp his t-shirt in my hand, ripping it up to reveal his sculpted chest. He raises his right arm while holding me in the left so I can free him from the shirt, repeating the motion on the other side. Somehow, we manage to get him naked from the waist up without separating, which makes my core heat even further. Is there anything sexier than a man who can hold another up so effortlessly?
My hands map his pecs, his shoulders, his back, all while his massage my ass, moving me over his firm length. Feeling his touch in all the right places is both fulfilling and not enough, like offering a mere sip of water to a man who’s parched enough to guzzle the cup. “More,” I pant, doing my best to rub our cocks together despite the material between us.
Carter guides my feet to the floor and rips my shirt over my head, revealing my torso. Next to him, my lanky frame looks like that of an adolescent boy rather than a man, though my slim physique doesn’t seem to turn him off. Quite the opposite, if the delicate glide of his fingertips over my skin is any indication.
My chest heaves under his touch as I take deep, shaky breaths, bringing the hint of a smirk to his sensual lips. The raw sex appeal in that expression sends a spike of arousal down my spine all the way to my puckered hole, which throbs with the need to be touched, and a needy whimper escapes my lips.
“I know that sound.” Carter’s hands drift to my pants as he backs me up to the wall, yanking them open so I’m exposed to his touch. “You want to see my cock. See how hard you make me.”
“Yes.” I hate that I sound so breathless, but after weeks of trying not to think about what was hidden under the sheet, and realizing it exceeded my fantasies when I did finally see it, I want to see it all the time. And apparently, he knows that.
“Take it out then.” He slides his fingers inside my briefs to tease my hole, taunting me with my own desire. “Do what you want. ”
Undoing his pants, I shove them wide to free the cock that isn’t trapped behind a set of boxers like it normally is. I’m not sure the reason behind going commando, but I’m not going to complain about the easy access it affords. Or the view.
Not for the first time, I marvel at what a work of art the man’s cock is. Long and thick, framed by a tuft of dark hair at the base, there’s not a blemish or flaw on it. Just smooth, pink skin, straining around the shaft that twitches in anticipation of what’s to come.
I’m so transfixed, I don’t even realize my clothes are on the floor until I spot Carter sucking on his index finger, right before he uses it to draw delicate circles around my hole. My knees start to buckle from the onslaught of pleasure, so he wraps an arm behind me to stop my descent.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and concentrate on the way his fingers move over me, firm enough to tease, but too soft to breach. It’s a delicious torture that sends ripples of lust along my shaft and has me rubbing it against Carter’s for relief.
The slight friction doesn’t sate me, not in the least, but it does take away enough of the edge that I’m content to let our cocks dance rather than climb him like a tree.
For several minutes Carter seems to be on the same page, dragging his shaft along mine as his finger continues its gentle tease around my pucker. But when an embarrassingly needy whimper escapes my throat, his patience seems to evaporate.
The whimper morphs to a gasp as a strong hand engulfs my shaft, and I find myself rocking forward on my toes from the sheer force of the tug he gives it. Bracing myself with one hand on his shoulder, I resolve to stay upright as he pumps my dick, long and strong and thorough, before abruptly loosening his hold and swiping his thumb over my slit .
Somehow, I have the presence of mind to give what I’m receiving despite the onslaught of pleasure, and with my free hand I draw tiny circles around his tip, followed by long smooth strokes down his length, exactly as he’s doing to me.
However Carter touches me, I mimic, alternating between pumping his shaft, teasing his slit, even tugging on his heavy balls. Concentrating on my mirrored response is the only thing that keeps me from coming apart, which under normal circumstances should’ve happened by now. I’m still not sure why it hasn’t since my dick has never been so hard, especially since he’s been slowly working me open this whole time with a packet of lube he must have had hidden in the pants that are precariously hanging open on his hips. But I’m nothing if not determined to hold out, at least until the specimen in my hand makes its way into my ass.
“Fuck, Sloan.” Carter peels my hand off his cock so he can trap us both in his fist, squeezing tight to keep us both from detonating. “I should make you wait for it, bring you to the edge and back several times before I give in.” He pumps the finger of his other hand in and out of my hole. “If I could wait any longer I would, but your ass is so sweet… I can’t. I need to feel you around me. Get me ready.” He drips the last of the lube onto his cock, breathing through gritted teeth as I coat his rigid length. Then he grips me by the ass and pins me to the wall, guiding my legs around his waist as he sinks home.
We groan in concert once he’s fully seated, my channel clenching around him as his crown grazes my prostate, causing Carter to let out a shaky breath.
“Do that and I’ll lose control,” he grimaces, leaning his forehead against mine as I wrap my arms around his neck.
Feeling a little daring in this position, I whisper, “What if I want you to? ”
Carter rocks his hips tentatively against mine, pushing himself deep inside me, as if testing to see what I can take. “Yes,” I sigh. The relieved groan he gives me in response makes me feel powerful, wanton .
One at a time, he shifts his hands from their hold on my ass, slipping them underneath my legs so my thighs are resting on his forearms. The position pushes us closer together, forcing him to use his body to keep me pinned to the wall. It also spreads me wide enough to feel his abs rubbing against my dick as he sinks even deeper. It feels incredible, if somewhat unstable.
“I’ve got you,” he grumbles.
“I know.”
“Then stop clenching. If you want me to lose control you have to give up yours, too. Let me fuck you good and hard.” He chuckles when I involuntarily tense around him. “If that’s what you want,” he adds.
“Yes.” I relax the muscles I didn’t realize I’d been using.
“Just like that.” He rocks his hips forward again, pulling a groan from both of us.
My legs are useless, leaving me no influence over the angle or depth he chooses. Sliding out with exaggerated slowness, he pushes back in until he bottoms out. “Good?” he rasps.
I nod.
“Tell me.”
“Good,” I exhale heavily.
That one word is all it takes for him to stop holding back. His hips start to piston back and forth, tunneling deeper than I thought possible. So deep, it feels like he’s fusing us together, atom by atom.
Absent the use of my limbs, I’m helpless to do anything but accept the pleasure he’s giving me, giving us, as he drives our bodies relentlessly forward .
Each thrust pushes me closer to the brink, clouding my thoughts in a passionate haze where all I see is him, commanding my body.
Jaw locked in concentration, carnal grunts rumble from his throat with each plunge. A thin sheen of sweat dots his brows, drawn tight as though he’s still desperately trying to maintain some restraint, though the wild pumping of his hips suggests he has none.
The smack of skin-on-skin echoes throughout the room as our bodies come together furiously, feverishly, chasing the release we desperately need but want to prolong. The firm tip of his cock pounds against my center, each pass driving my pleasure closer to the edge and pulling a desperate cry from my chest.
“Fuck you’re getting tight,” Carter pants. “Let me feel you shatter. I’ll be right there with you.”
Once again, his words send me over the edge, and just as he requested, my walls start to convulse around him, shooting tremors throughout my body. With a final lurch, Carter stills, his head falling back on his shoulders as his cock jerks inside me.
Breathless and spent, my limbs are motionless while my ass continues to milk him. I can tell he likes that by the way he presses against me, straining to feel every quiver I have to offer.
“Jesus, Sloan,” he rasps when he finally catches his breath. “I don’t even know what just happened. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” My head slumps against his chest, too heavy to hold upright. I breathe in his woodsy scent with a contented sigh. “You wrecked me though. I don’t think I can move.”
I feel the chuckle rumble in his chest before I hear it. “You wrecked me, too.” He spins us to the bed a few feet away and collapses onto it, so I’m splayed across his chest.
Free to move my legs, I stretch them behind me as Carter idly runs his fingers over my back. “You never did say whether you want to unpack here or at my place.”
“Yours,” I exhale. “Maybe after a nap, though.” I’m just conscious enough to register his arms wrapping me in a hug before I drift off.