Warm Heart

by Amy Lane

“Good. Missy’s big fear was leaving you alone—you know that, right?”

  Tevyn remembered her last words and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No fears about the afterlife—I’m pretty sure if they tried to close the gate, she would have barged her way in.”

  She’d been prepared to barge her way into Mallory Armstrong’s office, actually, but he’d welcomed them both with kindness and a smile.

  “I think that’s fair to say.”

  “So I’m glad you have a young man of your own. He seems very kind. What’s he do?”

  “He’s a financier.” It sounded strange to say—too highbrow for the likes of Tevyn and Missy. “I call him the money man.”

  “Well, isn’t that fancy.” She laughed softly. “Which is good. Because you were the crown jewel on Missy’s life. She said that to me often enough. It’s only right you have someone like that to call your own.”

  Tevyn nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  THAT conversation came back to him now as they entered the cabin, and his heart warmed.

  “Shall I make some soup?” Mallory asked, heading for Tevyn’s room, where their stuff was. Tevyn had a double bed—barely big enough for two adults, but it was where they’d been sleeping.

  But not much more than sleeping, because Tevyn’s heart had been too full.

  “Sure.” Tevyn followed him with his eyes, predicting what he was going to do next. Loafers in the little corner he’d claimed as his—check. Dress socks off and in the dirty clothes corner of his suitcase—check. Suit jacket down his shoulders, laid out on the bed and waiting for the hangar—check. Slacks, down his legs, just the same—check.

  By the time he’d gotten to his necktie, Tevyn had stripped his slacks and sweater off, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. He’d kicked off his half boots and yanked off his necktie, and by the time he got to the bedroom, he’d unbuttoned his dress shirt enough to slide it over his head, and he dropped that on the faded carpet too.

  “Tev—yn?” Mallory stopped in midcall as Tevyn circled his waist with his hands and shoved at his boxers.

  Tevyn ground his need into Mallory’s backside, standing on tiptoes so he could nibble at the back of Mallory’s neck.

  He growled and managed a whole goddamned word. “Now.”

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  Mallory turned in his arms and took his mouth, so hard, so voraciously, Tevyn was almost overwhelmed.

  Almost.

  Hands—everywhere. He reclaimed Mallory’s skin, cupping his throat in the vee of his fingers and thumb, palming his chest from there down to the waistband of his boxers.

  “Lay back,” Tevyn commanded roughly.

  “I was going to take care of you for once.” Mallory offered a tentative smile, but Tevyn shook his head.

  “This is taking care of me. Now naked! Now!”

  Oh, bless him, he stripped off his boxers and pulled back the covers, crawling into bed and lying there, naked, propped up on his elbows to watch Tevyn rustle through his suitcase for the shaving kit.

  “We’re running low,” Tevyn muttered.

  “Well, it’s a small bottle, and we had a big night.”

  Yes—yes, they had had a big night. They’d made love like they’d never have another chance, because Tevyn had thought his world would end when he walked out that door.

  And part of it had. He’d miss his grandmother forever—she would always be the voice in his head telling him to get back up after he fell down, telling him he could do anything he put his mind to, telling him he mattered.

  But he was still here. He was alive, and the man he loved was on that bed looking at him with big trusting eyes. Tevyn wanted every part of that he could get. He wanted to drink Mallory’s touch in through his skin, and pleasure them both until their bodies were reduced to basic elements—oxygen and lust.

  He wanted to prove he was alive, and he wanted Mallory right there with him.

  Tevyn practically leaped onto the bed, kissing down Mallory’s body, finding the traces of the marks he’d left there over a week ago and biting them again.

  He wanted Mallory marked as his, for all time. No doubt, ever again.

  Mallory submitted to his foray down his neck, his chest, his stomach, and to Tevyn’s delight, he tried to hold in his noises again.

  Tevyn sucked hard on the soft skin of his stomach and looked up as Mallory grunted, building a whine up in his throat that he was trying not to let escape.

  “Give it up,” he said after he’d released his mouthful with a pop.

  “Give what—”

  “You’re trying to be quiet, Mal. I’ve heard you get loud. We’re in a cabin in the middle of winter, miles from nowhere. We barely got an SUV down Missy’s road. I got no idea how she made it for years in a Toyota Corolla. The only way I’m not gonna make you scream is if you bring the mountain down on top of us, and I’ll still die happy.”

  “I’m not that loud,” Mallory grumbled with dignity.

  Oh, but he was. He was gloriously loud, uninhibited in bed in a way Tevyn had never guessed in real life. And he trusted all of that passion to Tevyn, and Tevyn wasn’t going to let a single drop, a single grunt, a single moan go to waste.

  “Not that loud?” Tevyn teased, licking the head of his cock. “Really?”

  “Re—” His voice cracked, rising up an octave. “—ally!”

  Tevyn took him all the way into the pressure and heat of his mouth, smiling on the inside when Mal hit the note above high C.

  He kept sucking, kept teasing, until Mal was straining upward, shaking with need, and then he slid his boxers down his hips and grabbed the slick, drizzling some of the coolness onto Mallory’s heated flesh.

  Mallory caught his breath and looked at his own erection in surprise. “Uh—”

  And then Tevyn caught his gaze and moved his own slippery fingers to his own backside. Cool and invasive and… ah….

  Tevyn shuddered as he prepared himself, and fought against closing his eyes.

  Mallory stared at him and licked his slightly parted lips. “Uh, should I—”

  “Right there,” Tevyn breathed, stretching, squatting to fill himself up. “Stay right there.”

  He straightened and pulled his fingers out, then straddled Mallory’s hips, rising up above him and positioning his member right… oh yes… there.

  And then he relaxed his thighs, his clench, and let the weight of his body pull him all the way down.

  “Ah….”

  Mallory gripped his thighs tightly, and as Tevyn hit bottom, he gave a long, drawn-out moan.

  “Oh, Tevyn….”

  “Mm… stay right there. Right… oh God. Okay. I’m gonna move.” He leaned forward, body shaking with urgency and began to slide up and down, rocking forward and backward with Mallory embedded deeply inside. Oh! It was so good! So good! But he needed to go faster! Dammit, he needed to go—

  Mallory locked his hands around Tevyn’s waist and held him still, rocketing his hips up and down to pound inside Tevyn from the bottom, hard and fast, and Tevyn threw his head back and howled.

  “Yes! God! Mal! Faster! Oh, man, please, harder! Faster! Wha—”

  Mallory slammed Tevyn down on top of him and rolled until Tev was on his back, helpless, needy, and Mallory was doing what he did best.

  Taking care of Tevyn.

  He pumped, brutally hard until Tevyn’s vision washed white and his orgasm rushed his spine. He grabbed his own erection and squeezed, needing the pressure, so lost in what Mallory was doing to his body, he had no shame and no embarrassment about the tables turning.

  He needed, he needed, he needed, he needed oh—oh God—“I need you right—fuck!—there!”

  Mallory buried himself inside Tevyn to the hilt and pumped hard and hot, scalding Tevyn with the force of his spend, and Tevyn erupted, spurting across his abdomen, his chest, his chin, catching a few drops in his parted mouth.

  The taste of his own come set him off a
gain.

  Mallory groaned, so deep in his stomach that Tevyn could feel it where they were joined. Then he fell forward, taking Tevyn’s mouth masterfully, kissing him until they were both limp and starving for breath.

  “I thought I was loud,” Mal breathed before dislodging himself from Tevyn’s body to pull up the sheets and blanket and quilt from the foot of the bed. It was still Missy’s place in February, and it was cold even after Mal had turned on the heater.

  “C’mere,” Tevyn begged, and Mal didn’t disappoint him. He pushed up the bed, pulling the covers over their shoulders, and lying with his head on Tevyn’s chest.

  Ah, it was like he knew what Tevyn needed to do.

  Tevyn stroked his hair and kissed the crown of his head.

  “Still want that soup?” Mallory said with a laugh.

  “Later.” Tevyn kissed his forehead. “What next?”

  “I thought there’d be soup.”

  He flicked the spot he’d just kissed. “No—I mean… us. What next?”

  Mallory pushed up on his elbow and studied Tevyn’s face. “Well, you have a competition in Toronto in two weeks. I assume you’ll go up a few days before to try the course out, get loose.”

  Tevyn nodded, falling into his brown eyes in a way he’d never allowed himself to do before the crash. “Yeah. But before then?”

  Mallory blinked. “Well, I figured we’d seal up the cabin and leave the key with the person we’re paying to take care of it, and fly back to San Francisco. I commute to work, you can drive up to Sugar Bowl and practice if you need to. I mean, you usually stay in Aspen or Sugar Bowl anyway, between competitions, right?”

  Tevyn nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So, when you need to, you go. When you don’t—”

  “I live with you,” Tevyn said, smiling. Made so much sense. Of course Mallory had planned it that way.

  “Yeah.” It suddenly seemed to hit Mal, the enormity of what he’d said. “I… never mind. I could leave you here, and I’d see you at your next competition, and—”

  Tevyn tilted Mal’s face up so he could kiss him. He pulled back and licked his nose. “Don’t you dare,” he said firmly, laughing as Mal tried to decide whether he needed to defend himself or not. “Don’t you dare change that amazing, awesome, wonderful plan. You can’t make it to all my competitions, and you have other clients. I know that. But living in San Francisco and driving to train when I need to be on the slopes—I can do that.”

  “There’s surfing in the bay, in wet suits,” Mallory told him. “And in Santa Cruz.”

  Tevyn kissed him again. “And sometimes, you could come with me.”

  Mallory smiled, looking as happy as Tevyn had ever seen him. “I’d love that.”

  Tevyn sobered. “And I would only ever be with you. And you would only ever be with me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because that’s how it should have been all along.”

  Mallory looked away. “You needed time,” he said.

  “I took all the time I needed. I’m grown-up now, Mallory.”

  Mallory nodded, and Tevyn felt a stinging wetness against his chest. “What—oh my God, Mallory—”

  “I’m happy,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I know you’re grieving, and we just got down from the damned mountain, but I’m so happy—”

  Tevyn kissed him, a teary sloppy disaster of a kiss that turned into Tevyn taking his turn inside Mal, pounding him until there were no more tears, only happy cries.

  They would make it work the same way they’d made it down the mountain. One problem at a time, doing what they needed to stay together, never giving up.

  Except the payoff wouldn’t just be permission to exist from the elements—not this time. The payoff for navigating their relationship would be the promise of life.

  Catching Great Air

  “MALLORY, c’mon, we have to go!” Damien urged, and Mallory took one more look around the office to make sure he got everything. He’d brought his luggage to work, and Damien had already carted most of it to the helipad on top of the building. “He expects you at the lodge tonight—you promised!”

  “I’m coming! Charlie! We’re leaving!”

  “Aw, man! C’mon, Scooter! Let’s go see the daddy!”

  Mallory rolled his eyes. “How come Tevyn gets to be the daddy?”

  “I have no idea. Now let’s go.”

  The time trials to make the Olympic team were in Aspen. Damien was piloting them to the private airfield nearby so Glen could take them by company jet. It was good to have money—and friends who were pilots and willing to charter out to them so Mallory could leave the office for a solid three weeks and be at the Olympics with Tevyn.

  But first, Tevyn had to qualify in Aspen so he could fly to Toronto, and Mallory had promised he’d be there.

  Scooter came bounding into his office, dragging his lead behind him. Charlie followed, cursing good-naturedly at everybody’s giant furry baby.

  Preston had come through with a dog, getting a mix between Great Pyrenees, Great Dane, and basic Labrador retriever. The resultant litter had been fantastically big, extremely playful—and so sweet and mellow that with some training, Mallory had gotten Scooter certified as a service dog, and he and Preston took him to a local school for autistic students on the weekends Tevyn was gone and Mallory couldn’t follow.

  Scooter would let kids tug on his ears, his tail, his fur, and do nothing more than whine gently in rebuke if they got too rough.

  And the children fell in love with him and told him things they were afraid to tell parents or teachers or other children. Mallory loved what kinds of magic the big dog could bring out of people, and Tevyn loved having a dog to watch after Mallory when he wasn’t home.

  He’d been gone for a week to train, and Mallory missed him. A lot.

  “Mal, don’t forget your knitting!” Charlie handed him the serviceable canvas bag that Tevyn had bought him for Christmas. They’d spent a month over the summer, deciding what to send to Mallory’s little house in San Mateo and what to leave at the cabin or sell.

  Mal—true to his word on the mountain—had taught himself to knit, and had taken all of Missy’s knitting equipment and the stunning stash of yarn she had saved, most of it from a local mill in nearby Granby. After looking at the sweaters she’d knitted him and Tevyn, he’d asked some advice from a local yarn shop proprietress and started on a sweater of his own.

  For Tevyn, of course.

  If he knitted quickly—and blocked it in the hotel room that night—Tevyn would have it to wear at the trials—and later, at the Olympics.

  For luck.

  For love.

  For knowing that another person in the world would do that for him, because Tevyn still needed to be told.

  But Mallory didn’t mind telling him.

  Their lives were busy, chaotic, and tumultuous. But every time they could find to spend together was perfect, peaceful, and glorious.

  And as often as he could, Mallory followed Tevyn up any mountain he needed to travel.

  And as often as he could, Tevyn would stay in Mallory’s arms.

  Mallory hugged Charlie goodbye and got Scooter strapped into the company helicopter. He stayed in the passenger compartment to keep Scooter company, but he put on the headset because he hadn’t talked to Damien in a couple of weeks and he wanted to catch up.

  “So,” he said carefully, “how’s Preston?”

  “You know better than I do,” Damien replied, all sourness. “You have a dog. Mal has a dog, so Mal gets to talk to Preston. Damien’s got jack, so Preston doesn’t talk to Damien.”

  “No, but Preston talks about Damien all the time!” Mallory laughed. “Come on, Damie, ask the boy out! He’s dying for you to! I mean, I know you’ve been called in on jobs before—don’t you talk then?”

  “Only about the job,” Damien muttered. “Seriously, it’s like he got all excited when we came down the mountain, but he saw me in the hospital, and I terrify him now. I d
on’t get it.”

  “Maybe you have to ask him directly,” Mallory told him. “Preston doesn’t flirt, and he doesn’t do sarcasm or innuendo. Tell him you want him.”

  “I’d probably have better luck if I got a dog.”

  “Well, I’m not going to argue. I really love Scooter!” Mallory hugged Scooter’s neck and scratched his thick fur. “Yes, I do, Scooter boy. Yes, I do!”

  “Do I need to sign off so you and Scooter can have private time?”

  “No, sir. Keep telling me how you’re going to ask Preston out on an actual date so I don’t have to watch you mope for another year.”

  It hadn’t been moping. Damien still walked with a limp—and it had taken a hard year of physical therapy and training to get to the point where he could walk without a cane. But they didn’t talk about that because Damien didn’t talk about that… because apparently Damien was a man’s man who didn’t admit that even this—going up in a helicopter in a relatively tame, urban setting—was terrifying.

  For both of them.

  Tevyn didn’t get frightened—he said Mallory was all the grounding he needed.

  But Mallory knew that for the rest of his life, taking a step onto any sort of aircraft was going to be an act of sheer will. He’d never told Tevyn, but getting on the plane for Colorado before Missy died had induced a full-blown panic attack in the bathroom beforehand. Tevyn hadn’t realized until they’d flown home that some parts of them would always be on that mountain.

  Scooter whined and licked his face. Calming Mallory down was his job too, and one of the reasons Mallory got to keep him when Tevyn was gone.

  Tevyn wanted Mal to have someone to hold if he had to fly alone.

  “You’re mean,” Damien said critically. “You weren’t this mean on the mountain, Mallory. I would have remembered.”

  “You would not have!” Mal retorted. “We did our best to keep you as stoned as possible.”

  Damien chuckled. “It’s true!”

  They bantered all the way to the airfield, and when they got there, Damien hopped into the copilot cockpit and let Glen take over in the pilot’s seat. Mallory and Scooter had the entire passenger compartment of the little twelve-seater to themselves, and Mallory knitted frantically and listened to e-books while Scooter rested his head on Mallory’s knee.