23. ATLAS
Chapter twenty-three
ATLAS
ASKING FOR WHAT YOU WANT
I’m halfway to town in Dean’s old truck when I pull over on the side of the road in a cold sweat.
“What am I doing?” I ask myself as I switch off the engine and climb out, pacing back and forth in front of the truck, trying to figure out the answer.
It’s been three days since our stables encounter, and I’ve seen Matthew for about the same number of minutes since.
It’s not that I’ve been avoiding him, and I don’t think he’s avoiding me, he’s been working.
It’s just that the work he’s been doing has been from his office in town, and that hasn’t left a lot of time for visits to the ranch.
He stopped by to get some signatures from Connor yesterday, but by the time I got back to the ranch after running Gramps and the guys along the new trail for the official first run, he was getting into his car.
So I figured I should go and see him. I have no idea what I’m going to say when I get there, though.
Matthew came to the ranch in a cocky suit and somehow charmed his way into my life, and as scary as it is to admit, my heart.
I’d almost given up on having what Dean and Connor have.
If I’m being totally honest, I sort of thought they were full of shit and putting on a show with all their cuddles and holding hands and needing to be right next to their partners as often as possible.
My skin would crawl just thinking of being that close with another person.
To be fair, that was in part because normally my skin would actually crawl when someone touched me. Until Matthew.
Now he’s the last thing I picture before I fall asleep and the first thing on my mind when I wake. He’s a part of me now, and while it used to hurt to be touched, I’m in agony waiting to be near him again. Even if it’s just so that he can tell me goodbye.
I climb back into the truck and take a steadying breath, then continue on toward town.
The streets are a bustle of energy. Two young men from the high school raised funding online to revamp the old theatre, and they’re showing their first picture tonight.
It’s not free like the movie nights we run at the ranch, but they have couches and chairs for seating and a roof.
I guess there’s room for both. It looks like they’re drawing in the cool crowd by the looks of the thirty or so teenagers who are lined up at the entry to get tickets.
The old sign doesn’t work, and I’m not sure they’ll ever raise enough money to fix it, but they’re resourceful, painting pieces of what looks like cardboard and taping them to the old sign where the original letters would go.
Their first movie is something called Blue Skies, and from the flyer we got in the post a week back, it’s a short film one of the brothers made in senior year. From the title, I would have picked it to be a romance, but the blood effect dripping down the border of the flyer screams scary movie.
I pull into the side street around the corner from Matthew’s place and park the truck under a tree. When I get to the office door, I pause, hand hovering an inch over the handle as I watch him busily type on his laptop.
He’s wearing his pale blue button-up shirt, but he’s not wearing a tie, and the collar is open just a little.
My dick twitches, and as if it were calling to him, Matthew looks up.
A smile spreads across his face when he spots me, and he quickly stands to come to the door.
I try the handle, but it’s locked, so I shove my hands into my pockets as I wait for him to unlatch it.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming to town today,” he says by way of greeting, and while he sounds and looks excited to see me, I’m slightly disappointed that he didn’t just throw open the door and kiss me.
“Yeah, I umm, had to grab a few things. Are you busy?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Nothing that can’t wait. Come in,” he replies, stepping to the side for me to pass.
“If you’re sure,” I say, and he closes and latches the door behind me. My dick twitches again, and I mentally tell it to calm down. A locked door is not an invitation for anything.
“I was going to come out to see you tonight, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I have been a bit absent the past few days, but I’ve been super busy with work.”
“Yeah, Connor said you were sorting out some stuff for an urgent response project or something.”
“Yeah. It’s really taking off now. They’ve purchased three of the warehouses around the country so far that will house the drones and other equipment needed, so now they’re looking for manufacturers. Obviously, Connor wants to try to keep that part in the country too.”
“Sounds like a lot to figure out.”
“It is, but it’s fun. Anyway, enough about my work, what are you doing in town?”
“I just came to see you.”
“Oh really?” he replies, closing the distance between us and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Really.”
“Then I should make your visit worth your while,” he says, and he pushes up on his toes and kisses me.
I didn’t come here for this, but the moment his mouth is on mine, I can’t resist him. I deepen the kiss, and he starts guiding us toward the back, where the old fitting rooms are. Breaking our kiss, he reaches for the handle of the one on the right with a tarnished gold number two on the door.
“This time I think we should go somewhere a little more private,” he teases, then he pushes open the door.
It’s just as the old tailor, Mr. Lawrence, left it.
There are two brass hooks on one side, a bench seat across the back wall, and after he pulls me inside and closes the door, I see the antique mirror still hung on the back.
The edges show an aged patina, but the image of us in the glass is still perfectly clear.
He launches himself forward, mouth clashing with mine, hands tugging at my shirt, my belt buckle, my pants, my hair, and I’m swept up in the heat of it all. In the swirling scent of him that makes my stomach flip and my heart hammer in that almost too good to be true kind of way.
His hand wraps around my throbbing cock as his mouth moves down my neck, then my chest, until he’s circling my nipple with his tongue.
“Hmm, Matthew,” I moan, watching us in the mirror. His perfect round ass is tight against his pants, and his shirt is tucked in all businesslike.
I turn him around and lock onto his gaze in the glass.
“Fuck, you’re sexy as hell,” I breathe, kissing down the side of his neck as I make quick work of his shirt, stripping it over his back as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down, his thick, veiny cock springing to attention.
I press one hand below his stomach, and wrap the other around his length, stroking him slowly and pulling him back against me until my cock wedges into his crease.
“Oh, fuck that’s good,” he groans, pushing his ass back and rising up onto his toes a little.
“So good,” I reply, and I hold his stare as we work up a rhythm, me stroking his cock and him grinding mine between his ass cheeks. His hands shove out to brace himself on the narrow walls of the fitting room.
“Fuck, Atlas,” he sighs. The ripples of pleasure build inside me, pushing out to every nerve ending like stretching a rubber band, further and further. It’s incredible even though you know it’s going to only go so far before it snaps.
His breaths come faster, gasps building in time with my strokes, until his back arches and his ass clenches around my cock, and the band holding us both together snaps.
“Fuuuuck,” he cries as ribbons of cum bring him sweet relief.
My orgasm hits at the same moment, and it hits hard, my whole body trembling. My chest burns as my heart pounds like it’s been waiting for this for years, not days.
“Wow,” he sighs, slipping off me and using his underwear to clean up before pulling on his pants without them. “That was so hot.”
“It really was,” I reply, pulling mine up and latching the belt buckle. He grins down at it.
“I like that one. It’s your favorite, right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” I ask.
“You wear the stallion one the most. The horseshoe one second most,” he replies, and it brings a warmth to my chest that spreads down my body knowing he notices things like that about me.
I sit on the bench seat to catch my breath. The tiny room is filled with the scent of us, and I want to just stay here in this quiet place, surrounded by that scent forever. In here, nothing else matters but us.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, opening the door, and I grab my shirt and pull it on before following him back out to reality.
“Sure, water would be great.”
He opens a cupboard on the far wall, and hidden inside is a mini fridge full of soda cans and water bottles. He tosses me one, and I crack the lid and drink it down greedily.
“You know, I have been thinking about our problem,” he says, taking a seat in his desk chair, and I nearly choke on the water.
“We have a problem?” I reply cautiously.
“Well, my problem, the problem of us. Of me getting the offer and us… you know?”
“Oh, that problem,” I reply with a small nod and as much of a smile as I can muster at being referred to as a problem.
“I think I have to do this. Like you said. It’s what I’ve been working toward for years. It’s the next step in bringing it all to life. Sure, it’s a junior position, but it’s in the project space. You know?”
So many thoughts swirl in my head. How would I know? What the hell was this? Was this one last go on the Atlas ride before leaving? It’s all the things I can’t—no, won’t say.
“So you’re going?”
He stands and walks over, big hazel eyes peering up at me, all hopeful, and it sends a pang to my chest.
“I am, but I want you to come with me,” he says, grabbing my hands and squeezing them tight.
“What?”
“Come with me. I know you like it here, but—“
“I love it here.”
“Right. Love, I meant to say love. But you could love the city too. It’s got everything you could ever want at your fingertips.”
“Like horses and starry skies and my family?” I say, and his grip softens.
“No, but we could visit the ranch. I’m sure—“
“You’re sure what?” I ask, pulling away and walking to the back of the room before turning. “You’re sure that I can live without those things because I’ll be with you?”
“Well, yeah, I mean… could you?”
“That isn’t my life. It isn’t the life I want.”
“Okay, umm, then maybe I can travel back on weekends, or maybe they’ll let me work remotely on alternate weeks or something.”
“You really think they’ll let you do that?”
“I could ask.”
“You know, when you got here, you were a cocky suit, and you thought you knew everything you needed to know to find your way out here.”
“Not fair,” he interjects.
“But true, yes?”
“I guess.”
“And then you got out of your head, slowed down, and listened and connected with the ranch, the people, the animals. With me. Are you really ready to undo all of that for an assumption that success only exists in one form?”
“No. But how do I say no to the opportunity of a lifetime when it was saying yes to another one that brought me here? What if this one is even better?”
“And what if it’s not?”
“Huh?”
I lean back against the other fitting room door.
“What if happiness isn’t what you thought it would be? What if you leave all of this, and it’s not everything you wanted?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would you quit and come back?”
“Maybe. Would you want me to?”
I look down at my shoes because my heart is screaming yes, but I can’t promise him something I’m not sure I can hold myself to.
“I think we’ve established that it doesn’t matter what I want. You have to make this decision, and I think you just did.”