by Cate Ashwood
Shifting back to give myself room to work, I slipped my hands between us, undoing his pants. He half gasped, half growled as I pulled his cock free, my grip tight as I started to jack him. He kissed me harder, and even though I was the one in control, he was the one with all the power.
I picked up the pace, and he groaned, then batted my hand away.
“Wha—”
“Shut up,” he said, reaching for my jeans and slipping the button through the hole. His fingers were clumsier than mine—he wasn’t used to undoing someone else’s pants, though maybe it was the confined space that made things more difficult, but eventually he got it figured out, button undone, zipper down.
My cock ached, desperate to be touched, and everything slowed to a stop as he wrapped his hand around me.
His grip was tentative, loose and experimental. He slowly dragged his fist over me, up, then down.
My breath caught in my chest. As much as I’d wanted this, willed it to happen, fantasized about it every time I saw Barrett at work, I never thought it actually would. He was staring down at me, like he was mesmerized by the image of my dick in his hand.
So was I.
But when he released his grip, only to line up my cock against his and wrap his fist around both of us, I almost blew my load right there. Slowly, he moved his hand, sending sparks of pleasure through me, and I knew this wasn’t going to take long.
There was something about the sensation of having his cock pressed against mine, the silkiness of his skin and the stone-hard rigidity of his erection, that made everything go a little wobbly.
His strokes became more confident, and his breathing hitched as he tightened his grip. I let my head fall back, lost in the moment and overwhelmed with sensation.
“How is it possible that you’re so goddamn beautiful?” he murmured, leaning in to kiss my throat.
I could already feel my orgasm building, threatening, right there, and I didn’t want to come too soon. I needed to feel him coming with me, but I didn’t have to wait long.
I gasped as I felt the warmth of his come spilling over me, and within half a second, I was right there with him. Waves of pleasure moved through me, and as he slowed his strokes and wrung the last of the orgasm from my body, I collapsed forward, resting my head against his shoulder until my breathing evened out.
We stayed like that for a minute or two, I think both of us in awe that had actually happened. Eventually, Barrett carefully leaned over and opened the glove compartment to grab some takeout napkins to clean us up.
I climbed off his lap and straightened my clothes. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were bright, and when he smiled at me, I felt it.
“Should we go?” he asked softly.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
I’d never been more ready to go home with someone. If a simple handjob had nearly fucking wrecked me, I couldn’t wait for the next course.
Frankie
What the hell had just happened?
I stood in the middle of Holden’s kitchen, my head spinning. I guess Barrett had never said he was taking me back to his place, but after everything, I’d kind of assumed that’s where things were heading. I guess what they say about assuming was true, because I certainly felt like an ass.
“Frankie? You back?”
Holden called from the front of the house.
“In here,” I yelled back.
Holden emerged in the doorway a minute later, wearing pale green hospital scrubs and looking exhausted.
“Long morning?” I asked.
“Long night that turned into a long morning.”
“What happened?”
“Complications with a delivery.”
“Shit.”
“Mom and baby are both fine, but it was touch and go for a while.” Holden crossed the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. “Have you eaten?”
“No. We didn’t get a chance to stop anywhere.”
“That’s right, you were out with Barrett this morning, right?”
I nodded. It was time to put away thoughts of kissing and coming and the way Barrett’s hands had felt on me. Unfortunately, this wasn’t all about me. “I think we found the perfect spot for the wedding.”
“Oh really? Where?” he asked excitedly. “A barn?”
“I’m beginning to think you actually do want to get married standing next to livestock.”
“A rustic wedding might be kind of charming.”
“You’ll change your mind when you see this place. Peregrine Point is perfect, and it’s going to be even more perfect when I’m done setting it up.” He turned around with an armful of ingredients. I grabbed half of them and dumped them on the counter. “The next day you and Gage both have off, I’ll take you up there so you can see. You’re gonna fall in love with it.”
“Sounds great.”
He assembled a couple of lopsided sandwiches and handed one to me. “Anything else happen today?”
For a moment I thought about spilling everything. He and Gage had been on me about why I hadn’t come home the other night, and every time I told them to mind their own business, I sounded like a bitchy teenager.
There was a part of me that wanted to tell Holden what was going on, but I was wavering. There was something kind of sexy about the whole clandestine thing. There also wasn’t much to tell. We hadn’t slept together. We might never sleep together. I shuddered at the thought.
Plus, I couldn’t see Barrett being all that happy if I were to run my mouth all over the place with his personal shit.
“Totally uneventful day,” I lied, taking a huge bite of my sandwich to avoid saying anything else.
“Sawyer’s Ferry’s living up to your preconceived notions of being completely boring, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
For a moment, I thought he’d bought my casual shrugging off of the truth.
“You’ve got stubble burn.”
Maybe I wasn’t all that sneaky after all.
Monday morning, I climbed the steps of Copper Creek, unsure of exactly how this was going to go. The last time I’d made Barrett come, he’d ghosted me for a week. There was a chance this might be a repeat.
On the way into town, Holden had grilled me about Barrett, but I’d dodged the questions. As he dropped me off on his way to work, I’d done my best to mentally prepare myself to be frozen out. No big. I could handle it.
I didn’t want anything.
But as I pulled open the door, the smell of hops and barley and whatever else they mixed together in there surrounded me, and the confidence and I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude fled. My first instinct was to look for him, to see if I could read his expression from across the room, but the room was empty.
I walked back toward the stairs to the mezzanine, stopping to say hello to Dee, Cody, and Dustin. I’d run into almost every employee, but still no Barrett.
And that was all I really needed, to know how this thing was going to play out.
I headed to the office and shut the door behind me once I got there. I had work to do, and I could be a professional. I got to work, grabbing a handful of files from the cabinets to digitize and sat down behind the computer. The task was necessary, but mundane. Unfortunately, that meant it allowed my mind to wander all over the freaking place.
By the time ten o’clock rolled around, I had officially become the reigning queen of overthinking shit.
Someone get me a crown and a scepter, because I could totally rock it.
Midway through scanning in the contract for Bob’s Bowling and Brews in Anchorage, I heard Barrett’s booming laughter from downstairs. It was distant, but it was deep, and I recognized it as him immediately.
So, he was here after all.
Whipping the paper out of the scanner, I shoved it back in the file and slammed it closed as forcefully as I could slam closed a paper folder. As I did, I managed to slice a surface cut into my thumb. It was nothing, but it hurt like a bitch.
“Son of a motherfuck
er,” I hissed. That’s what I got for letting him get to me.
“You shit-talking me?” Barrett laughed from the doorway. I’d been so annoyed that he hadn’t come to talk to me, I hadn’t noticed he’d come to talk to me.
The papercut wasn’t bleeding, but I stuck the pad my thumb in my mouth and sucked. “Do I have reason to?”
Barrett closed the door and I heard the lock click. He stepped into the office. “I hope not.”
I swallowed hard, feeling off-kilter. He had the upper hand here, and we both knew it. I felt almost vulnerable as he crossed the floor to close the distance between us.
“What’s up?” The question was casual, but my voice shook, just a little.
“I wanted to see you.”
“Did you?”
“Are you surprised?”
I shrugged. “Honestly, a little. After last time—”
“After last time, I tried to do what I thought was best, but I’m getting really fucking tired of lying to myself.”
“About what?”
“About how much I want you.” He drew closer and pulled me to my feet. “I tried not to get involved. I thought this had bad idea written all over it.”
“And you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” I was skeptical.
“Not really. It probably is a terrible idea, but I really don’t give a shit.”
He slid his hand up, tracing his palm along the side of my neck. My breath hitched and I leaned into him. The warmth of his hand felt so good after I’d been expecting him to run.
“So what now?” I could barely get the words out. Barrett was so close, his lips hovering an inch above mine. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to do a whole hell of a lot more than kiss me.
“That depends on you.”
“Me?” I squeaked.
“You got plans tonight?”
I shook my head. I still hadn’t figured out the crazy hold Barrett seemed to have over me. It flew in the face of everything I’d ever believed about myself. I wasn’t the guy who got hung up on other dudes. I’d never gotten attached. It was such a waste of time and energy.
And, I told myself, I wasn’t attached now. Or even all that interested.
I was a lying bitch.
Of course I was interested. My blood was samba dancing through my veins just standing close to him.
“Good. I’ll make you dinner.”
“Yeah?”
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“I do.” I sounded too eager, but Barrett seemed to want this, so at least I wasn’t the only dork looking forward to it.
“Good. Now get back to work.” He took a step back, and the air rushed from my lungs. “I hear your boss is a real jackass.”
“He can be.”
Barrett
“Mase? Can you take over for an hour? I gotta run out.”
“No problem. Anything you want me to do?”
“Make sure the building doesn’t burn down? Make sure no one dies? Keep Dustin from drinking on his break?”
“So, the usual,” Mason said with a laugh.
“Yep. Be back soon.”
I decided to walk, since the sun was shining and the air was warm, and I was in a particularly good mood. The moment that I’d kissed Frankie at the top of the lighthouse, the moment I’d given in to that undeniable pull, it was like opening Pandora’s box. It was possible the contents hidden beneath the shiny surface stuff was doom and gloom, but I planned to enjoy the good stuff at the top while I could.
Frankie’s return flight to New York was leaving in a few weeks, so even if everything went spectacularly to shit, by the end of August, it wouldn’t matter.
I didn’t want to think about that, though. First thing I needed to do was figure out what the hell I was going to cook. Why had I offered? I should have suggested we order in takeout or hit up the Starlight on the way home.
Crossing the street, I waved to Ricky, then slipped into the market and grabbed a basket. I figured I could wander up and down the aisles until something jumped out at me. It wasn’t until I was staring at the tank of live lobsters that I realized I had no idea what Frankie liked.
The only thing I knew for sure he’d enjoy was thin-crust pizza with goat cheese. Maybe I could use that and go from there.
“Excuse me,” I said, catching the attention of a kid refreshing the serve-yourself olives. “Could you tell me where to find the goat cheese?”
He balked as though I’d demanded he give me all the money in the safe. “Uh. I don’t think we have that. I’d have to check, though.” He stared at me. “You want me to check?”
“That’d be great.”
I waited for him to dash off, half expecting he’d hide in the back and I’d never see him again. Instead, he stood up a little taller and yelled. “Hey, Rhonda! We got any goat cheese?”
“We got feta. Is that goat cheese?” she yelled back.
The kid turned to me. “Is that goat cheese?”
“Maybe?” I had no idea. “But not what I had in mind, I don’t think.”
“He doesn’t want that kind,” the kid hollered.
“That’s all we got. We can order whatever in special, though.”
“That’s fine,” I told him. “Thanks anyway.”
No goat cheese. Oh well, it wasn’t much to go on anyway. This was going to be a shot in the fucking dark.
After walking up and down each aisle twice, I settled on spaghetti, grabbing diced tomatoes and garlic for the sauce. If Frankie didn’t like it, we could order pizza—without goat cheese.
The next stop was the pharmacy. I stood in the middle of the sexual health aisle reconsidering every choice I’d made up until this point. A box of Trojans in my hand, the full weight of realization of what I was planning slammed into me.
I was going to have sex. With a man.
Not just any man.
Frankie.
How the hell had I gotten here? For years after Naomi left, I’d been content with casual fucking. It scratched the itch, and for the most part, and it was casual and drama-free. Easy. Simple. Low pressure.
This felt different, and we hadn’t done anything yet. I’d been attracted to guys before, on a very surface level, but Frankie was the first one I couldn’t get out of my mind. He was the first I’d wanted to take beyond shallow attraction—the first I’d wanted to sleep with.
I hadn’t even seen him naked yet.
But that was the thing. I wanted to. Desperately. More than I’d ever wanted to undress any of the women I’d slept with.
I tried to reassure myself. There was no reason to overthink this. Just because I’d never fucked a man before didn’t mean I wouldn’t like it. It probably meant I wouldn’t be great at it, at least not at first. I understood the mechanics. It’d be a new experience, and one I wanted so bad, and if Frankie was up for it, I was game to get a lot more practice in before he left.
I grabbed the bigger box and a bottle of lube.
The girl at the checkout eyed my purchases and then me, her face going red as she rang me up.
“Have a good night,” she said.
“I will,” I replied and couldn’t help my quiet chuckle as I watched her blush darken.
The rest of the day crawled by. The pledge I’d made at the pharmacy to not overthink sex with Frankie had turned out to be garbage. It was all I could think about. I’d been imagining it since the night he blew me behind the bar, but this was like a horny teenager on steroids.
I was having trouble concentrating on anything else. Twice, I fucked up the turbidity measurements on the stout and had to start all over. The minutes ticked by like each one was stretched into an hour, and by the time the end of the day rolled around, I was a ball of nervous energy.
I wanted to shove everyone but Frankie out the door and lock it behind them, but that would have been too easy. Instead, there was a problem with the sanitation system that kept three of us an hour after closing time to fix. It didn’t help that the problem didn�
�t have my full concentration and I’d lost about thirty IQ points in the last hour alone.
Finally, Cody and I managed to get everything worked out, but Cody, Dee, and Dustin sat around the bar, pulling pints and bullshitting until the sun was long set. It was a tradition on Friday afternoons for us all to gather around and take a load off for a few minutes before heading home.
But it was Monday, and I wanted everyone to get the fuck out of my building. I had plans, and any patience I normally possessed was long fucking gone.
Frankie made his way down the stairs just as everyone was starting to get half-cut and grabbed the stool next to Dustin.
“You got anything with a Bellini vibe?” he asked.
I shot him a sardonic look. “Take a wild guess.”
He winked. “Surprise me.”
If I’d had more than beer behind the bar, I’d have made him an Alaskan iced tea, but I poured him a salted caramel porter instead. I thought the hint of caramel in the finish might be right up his alley.
The later it got, the more anxious I was to get the guys out. Frankie was tossing me flirty looks when no one else was looking, and I was getting fucking impatient. He knew exactly what he was doing to me too, which made it a thousand percent worse.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Last call,” I announced to a chorus of disappointed grumbles.
“Come on,” Dustin groaned. “It’s still early.”
“Your wife is waiting for you to stumble home,” Mason said.
“She don’t mind when I work late.”
“But she minds when you wobble home drunk and slurring,” Dee added.
“I’m not even close.”
“Megan won’t have a reason to be mad, then,” Dee said, standing up and bringing her glass around to wash in the bar sink against the back.
Any other time, I’d have found it heartwarming that my staff backed me up without a question, but tonight, I just wanted them to get the hell out. There’d be time to feel appreciative later.
Slowly, they got up and ambled to get their stuff from the staff room. I stayed put and so did Frankie. Maybe that looked a little suspicious, but that was just one more thing I couldn’t summon the energy to care about.