by Tara Lain
“It seems like you’ve been here more than that.”
“Yeah. It’s my escape. I usually come alone and stay a day or two.”
“I’m honored you brought me.”
Ryan gave him that narrow-eyed, appraising look but didn’t say anything as the elevator stopped. They walked down the hall and found their room.
Ryan pushed open the door. “This is just one of their standard rooms. You should see the suites. I splurge to stay here sometimes, but those rooms are too rich for my blood.”
The room looked way above standard to JJ. The king-size bed had four tall posts and the art appeared original. He walked to the window and looked out. “Oh my God.” The room didn’t look straight at the world-famous Half Dome mountain like he was sure the plush suites did, but it was hard to imagine anything much prettier than the wide lawn surrounded by trees and the mountains in the near distance.
Ryan came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You like?”
“God, what’s not to like?”
“It’s a long way to the ski area from here, but I really wanted you to see this hotel.”
JJ would be just as happy if they never found the ski area. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Comfy. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to show me a good time.”
Ryan sat beside him. “I can’t do much to please you at home, so I wanted this trip to be special. My plans were kind of rushed, but maybe we can come back in the summer and hike.”
Hiking sounded really good since it only involved boots and not suspicious wooden appendages. And Ryan was planning for the summer. That made JJ’s heart beat faster.
Ryan leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on JJ’s lips.
A knock sounded on the door. Ryan gave JJ’s mouth another quick peck, then went over and let in the bellman. After Ryan had parted with five dollars and the bellman left, JJ put his small bag in the closet. He opened it, pulled out a couple of things bound to wrinkle, and hung them up. Ryan just opened his bag and left it sitting on the floor.
JJ grinned. “Ready for a quick getaway?”
“I guess it’s kind of a habit. I’m always prepared for shit to happen, even here.”
“But you seem a lot more relaxed here.”
Ryan quirked a smile. “You mean not so much in hiding?”
“That too.”
Ryan sighed and went back over to the bed and sat. “I’d really like to be out and proud. It just is what it is.”
JJ shrugged. “You learned that the hard way, I guess.”
Ryan stood, and his eyes devoured JJ’s body. “I’m torn. I’d like to hammer your ass into the king-size mattress, but I also want to show you the hotel and the village before dinner.”
“I’d suggest a good tour would make us both so horny we can spend all night fucking after dinner.” JJ waggled his ass.
“I like the way you think.”
JJ pulled on the down jacket he’d borrowed from Hunter, Rodney’s partner and the friend closest to JJ’s size. He’d had to buy his own boots, however, since his feet were so big. Fortunately, he’d found a pair secondhand but barely used.
Two hours later, after walking through every grand room in the hotel, exploring the quaint village, and marveling at the amazing view, JJ followed Ryan into the famous Ahwahnee dining room. Holy vision of gay decorators, the place took his breath away. The polished stone floors supported two-story high walls made of rugged rock and polished timber. What must once have been real candle chandeliers now featured electric candles, but the charming, historic effect was the same. Each white-clothed table held one tall candle sconce with a pine bouquet at its base. Great fronds of evergreen decked the windows and made the place smell like holiday heaven. But no decoration could compete with the soaring windows. In the daytime, they looked out on the valley with its staggering majesty. Now, the low lights on the trees and the strands of holiday twinklers created fairyland. He wanted to write poetry.
They were shown to their table near the windows. JJ sat and looked down, trying to keep from crying.
“You okay?”
Get a grip, JJ. “It’s really beautiful.”
“You should see it at the Bracebridge dinner on Christmas Day. They turn the place into a seventeenth-century English manor and serve authentic food and sing carols. I managed to get a reservation last year. It was incredible.”
Ryan acted like a different guy in this place. It was easy to understand why. The hotel, the view. All transforming.
They both ordered the fixed price meal with JJ choosing the roasted chicken and Ryan taking the beef. The Caesar salad that came first melted in JJ’s mouth.
Ryan swallowed some salad. “You should see the valley in the early summer. There are waterfalls everywhere just tumbling down the rocks.”
“So it’s not just the skiing that you like?”
“No. I love it here. I could imagine retiring to a mountaintop somewhere.”
“That’s a big change for a city boy.”
Ryan frowned. “Yeah, well, I can live without that city.”
The city had nearly killed him. JJ nodded. “It’s funny that you love this hotel so much, but you don’t, uh, do a lot of fixing up at your place.”
Ryan laughed and sipped his beer. He’d ordered wine for JJ. “You noticed that, did you? It’s funny. I like nice stuff, but I guess where I live never feels permanent somehow. It’s just a place to sleep.”
“That’s what most people say about hotels.”
“I’m the opposite. A great hotel is worth the price. The place I live? Just passing through.”
“The valley sounds beautiful in the summer.”
“Yeah. The hiking trails are great. And you won’t believe the views.”
Oh, JJ liked being included in that future tense.
“There’s a lot of interesting stuff in Yosemite that most people never see. Like in the fall, there’s the tarantulas.”
JJ coughed and had to push his napkin against his mouth to keep from spitting lettuce across the table. “Tarantulas?”
Ryan smiled and nodded. “Yeah. There’s a ton of them here in the caves and stuff. In the fall, the boy tarantulas go looking for the girl tarantulas.” He shrugged while JJ tried to keep eating and not look around the table for creeping arachnids. Holy shit! JJ did not want to hear more, but Ryan was on a roll. “I don’t know. Maybe some of those boy tarantulas are looking for other boy tarantulas. But they go out for walks, and you actually see them crossing the roads.”
JJ started to talk, but it came out as a squeak. “Where, uh, where do they live in the winter?”
Ryan shrugged and finished the last of his salad. “Don’t know. Probably hiding out in the caves until the weather gets warm.”
JJ had to grip his hands tight to keep from fanning himself. Time to change the god-awful subject. “My, I do think those waterfalls sound beautiful.”
Ryan looked up and bobbed his fork. “You know what? They actually found a whole new kind of spider called a scorpion spider in the caves here at Yosemite. Isn’t that amazing?”
Throwing up was becoming an option. JJ set down his fork and took a sip of wine. “Yes. Amazing.”
Fortunately Ryan went on to other topics, and by the time JJ’s chicken arrived, it actually looked good to him. Conversation was easy, the wine did its work, and a foot rubbing up and down his calf did another kind of work.
Ryan downed the last of his second beer. “Have I told you how great you look tonight?”
“Thank you.” His designer sports coat qualified as a favorite thrift-store find. “You look pretty great yourself.” He did. The unattractive sports jacket Ryan wore a lot for work had been replaced with a well-tailored dark blue suit.
“Thanks. I had to get this suit for a formal police thing. The guy at the department store took over and forced this suit on me, but I like it, as it turns out.”
JJ grinned. “Can’t imagine anyone forcing you to do anything.”
JJ’s heart skipped a beat. “Was he that bad?”
“Just one of those really fluttery guys, but he knew his stuff, so I can’t complain.”
Damn. Maybe some little part of him had thought this more relaxed Ryan would like the real JJ. No such luck. Hard not to feel rejected, even though Ryan didn’t know he was referring to JJ when he talked about the guy.
They paid the check. JJ insisted Ryan let him put some money on it, but he felt Ryan slip the cash back into his jacket pocket as they walked to the room. The man was sweet—which kind of offset his rougher edges.
Back in the room, JJ went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth and changed into pajama bottoms. The prospect of a whole night in that four-poster bed with Ryan Star had him very hot under the collar—if he’d been wearing one.
When he walked back out, Ryan was lying on the bed stark naked and holding a very erect cock. His long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him, and the arrow of dark hair on his abdomen pointed directly at Mr. Happy. “Uh, remember your prediction about how the tour and dinner would make us horny?”
JJ turned sideways to give Ryan a view of the huge tent in the front of his pj’s. “Yes, I seem to remember that quite well.”
“Shall we see how well the beds accommodate two big men?”
JJ sidled over and, in one move, shoved the elastic waist of his pajamas down below his stiffy. He stared at Ryan’s cock. “Did you hear about the passionate soprano who chased the choirmaster around until she caught him by the upright organ?”
Ryan laughed but never stopped stroking his dick. “Maybe we can make that a passionate baritone.”
“You know how you’re going to teach me to ski tomorrow?” Shouldn’t have said that. Too nervous.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe tonight I could learn a little pole dancing.” JJ pulled off the pj’s and sauntered toward Ryan. “You got the goods?”
Ryan grabbed a box of condoms and a tube of lube from the nightstand and put them on the snow-white sheets. JJ knelt on the edge of the mattress, holding on to one of the upright posts like a dancer, and swung back and forth so his cock bobbed and weaved what he hoped was irresistibly.
Ryan squeezed his cock at the base. “Baby, you better sit on this pole fast, because I could come just looking at your adorable ass.” He reached over and grabbed a condom from the box, then opened the package with his teeth and slid on the sheath.
JJ crawled toward Ryan, then turned and presented his butt. “Lube me up.”
“Oh yeah, like the finest model in the showroom.”
JJ heard a cap pop and then felt cold and squinchy wet in his hole. Ryan started with one finger, but JJ wailed and that got him two, then three. “Oh my God!” The last finger made it right to his prostate. He pounded back on the digits for a second, but why settle for second best?
He pulled away from Ryan, grabbed the lube from the bed, and made a fast pass at slicking Ryan’s condom-covered cock. Tossing the box aside, he squatted over Ryan’s hips.
“Whoa. That’s a sight. All those muscles holding that ass ready for me. Oh man, you are something to see.”
“Then watch closely, Detective.” JJ grabbed Ryan’s cock and positioned it right at his hole. “Are you watching?”
“Riveted.” Ryan locked his blue eyes on the point of contact.
Slowly, JJ lowered himself onto Ryan’s hard rod. Universe of happy butt fucks, it felt so damned good. He couldn’t see the vanishing cock, but he only had to look at Ryan’s face. Ryan stared, his eyes at half-mast, his mouth open and his breath coming hard. JJ smiled. “You like?”
“Shit. You are sex on a stick. Literally.”
JJ rose up and lowered. Ryan’s eyes closed, and a soft moan came out of his lips. Up and down. Another moan, louder this time. Then a growl. “Fuck me, JJ.”
“Hell yeah.” JJ began to ride like he had on the carousel pony he’d loved as a kid. But this was a much more adult ride, and he was tall enough to get on it. He bobbed up and down with a little swing to the left and right, changing the position of the shaft in his butt each time and attacking his prostate from a different angle. Bliss, pure bliss, if bliss was hot as molten lava.
Ryan’s head was thrown back and the tendons in his neck stood out. “Holy shit, you’re incredible.”
Nothing made JJ happier than being incredible for Ryan Star.
“I’m gonna come, JJ. Can’t hold it back. Come with me. Please. Come now.”
JJ grabbed his own cock, because no way Ryan could hold that sucker while it flailed around as JJ bucked like a bronco. Yes! The orgasm seared through him like a lava flow of heat and sweetness, spraying some of that sweetness across Ryan’s chest and onto his face. Ryan’s tongue came out and licked.
Now that, my dear, was sexy.
JJ fell forward onto Ryan’s chest and tried to remember how to breathe.
The soft sound of icicles cracking and falling echoed through the quiet room.
Ryan’s soft whisper tickled JJ’s ear. “You’re really something. I like you so much, JJ. I wish….”
The next thing he heard was Ryan’s soft, deep breathing.
Chapter
Eight
HOW BAD could it be? He didn’t want to think about that. Everything about this trip was dreamlike. He and Ryan clicked, the sex was astonishing, the hotel phenomenal, the food to die for. Skiing along in the white snow looking at more of this beautiful scenery could only be one more dream.
Ryan squeezed JJ’s arm. “Finding boots for those big feet of yours is a challenge.”
Maybe they wouldn’t find them. JJ’s heart leaped. He looked around the ski-rental shack at all the people. Even kids looked thrilled to be fitting those giant boards on their feet. They weren’t anything like the skis JJ had seen when he watched the Olympics. These were skinnier and the heels didn’t look very locked in.
“Success!” The chirpy woman who waited on them emerged from behind the counter carrying a pair of boots and skis. She made a beeline for JJ. Shit. Sure enough. Fifteen minutes later, they headed out the door carrying equipment.
Ryan pointed. “The ski lessons are right over there.”
JJ trudged along behind in the snow. Guillotines had been more enthusiastically approached than these lessons. Oh well, he encouraged himself. Be optimistic.
When they got to the ski school, Ryan presented a voucher. A big, handsome guy came over and announced he was the instructor.
JJ turned to Ryan. “Okay, why don’t you go off and have fun while I learn? No sense you wasting time here.”
Ryan shook his head, and with every shake JJ’s stomach flipped. “No, I’d rather be with you.”
Well, hell, how could he argue with a sweet rationale like that?
How hard can it be? How hard can it be? Following the instructor to the beginner’s area, JJ fell back into the litany. Three other people waited where they stopped: an older woman and two men who looked like they drove trucks. Very big trucks.
Their instructor, who turned out to be named Bronson—seriously?—gathered them together. He spoke with an indeterminate accent that would have been great saying “I’ll be back.” The woman introduced herself as Michele and proudly announced she was sixty-three. The two guys, Ron and Paul, turned out to be a stockbroker and an English teacher.
Bronson pointed at his boots. “Okeydokey, we’re going to fit our boots into the skis. Be sure you remove all snow from the boots before inserting.”
Instant problem. JJ stood on one foot and tried to wipe the snow, which threw him off balance and he had to put his foot down, which introduced yet more snow. Damn, he felt like a leaning tower. Ryan stepped up beside him and provided a shoulder to lean on. JJ tried to smile. “Uh, thanks.” Jeez, he was such a klutz. Finally—last out of the group—he got his boots in his skis, locked them on, and st
ood up. His skis slid forward, his ass flew into the air, and he fell instantly to his butt with skis crossed. “Oh no!” He clutched his hands in the snow to keep from shaking them. This didn’t portend well.
Bronson walked over and looked down at him. “No problemo. You just leaned back too much. Keep that weight distributed and slightly forward. Okeydokey?”
JJ nodded, and Bronson offered an arm. Okay, but what in the hell did he do with the skis when he was trying to get up? After thirty seconds of pure slapstick comedy, JJ finally got the skis separated, his weight arranged, and made it to his feet. Heat flushed his cheeks. At least the cold could explain that.
God, who knew snow would be so slippery?
Bronson stood at the center of their circle. “Now, plant your poles by your sides and slide your skis back and forth.”
JJ planted. He slid one ski, the other, back to the first. Working. One more slide. He slipped, caught himself with the pole, and stayed upright. Yes. He glanced at Ryan, who was following the directions too, with perfect balance and symmetry. Ryan gave JJ a smile.
Bronson held up a hand. “Good, everyone. Now, we’ll cover some ground. Put your hands through the pole straps.”
JJ did it, but he felt wobbly. That must be normal.
“Now plant your left pole and slide your right ski forward.”
JJ followed direction.
“Now plant your right pole and slide your left ski.”
Wow. He did it. Maybe he could make it on those trails after all.
“Keep doing that, everyone. Good. See, you’re skiing.”
Cool. Yes, he was skiing. Left. Right. In front of him, a little dip in the snow curved downward. In his boots it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but suddenly he was sliding. Sliding without trying. His arms came up like a helicopter, poles flying. Vaguely he saw Michele duck as his skis flew out from under him. It felt like he actually rose in the air, suspended for a second, and slammed onto the snow on his ass. His head flew back and smacked hard, throwing ice up into his eyes. Ouch. Shit, that hurt.
“JJ, are you okay?” Ryan sounded really worried. JJ must look bad. Damn. He’d like to cry. Probably not a wise decision.