by AJ Rose
“Yeah. I don’t do this often but I’m no one-night staaaaaaand,” Mitch said, drawing the word out as his muscles resisted, then gave way, and Nate’s sheathed cockhead popped inside him. “Go slow.”
“I thought you wanted it fast?” Nate teased.
“I do, fuck. I gotta… just… let me get used to you. You’re kinda big.”
Mitch raised his head to look at their reflection in the mirrored closet doors and saw Nate smile as their eyes met.
Nate doffed an imaginary hat and dipped his head in thanks. He worked himself slowly into Mitch’s body, invading him in the best way, and the fullness Mitch experienced was more than in his ass. It was in his chest and throat, and he clenched his eyes shut to concentrate on breathing through the burn, ignoring the fact that while Soul Girl had politely turned to look out the balcony door, Gary had covered his eyes but was peeking through fingers and looking in the mirror. Mitch guessed his curiosity had gotten the better of him.
Do souls get wood? he thought somewhat deliriously, then decided he didn’t want to know.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, s’good.”
Nate gave a couple experimental thrusts, and the pain turned to pleasure, sparking against his insides and crackling in his limbs. Bottoming was difficult for Mitch sometimes, and he hadn’t been lying about Nate’s size. He wasn’t enormous, but he was above average. It was enough to make Mitch’s teeth itch.
He pushed back onto the cock spearing him, and together they worked a slow, sensual roll of the hips into more intense, skin-slapping thrusts. Nate gave him time to adjust, kept his movements shallow, and took his cues from Mitch for when he should go harder and faster. As nice as prolonging it would have been, Mitch did want it fast and dirty; he’d gone without sex for too long. Before he knew it, he hit his apex and hovered for a breathless, dizzying moment, dangling over the precipice of pleasure he could tell was going to obliterate him.
“Close,” he panted, furiously jacking himself and reveling in the feel of Nate’s balls bumping his on each push.
“Same here. Wait for me.”
Mitch dropped from his elbow to his chest, face turned to the side as he scrabbled behind him with his unoccupied arm. Nate took the hint and gripped his hand, resting Mitch’s arm comfortably across the small of his back. That extra connection, the human touch of affection, had Mitch keening a warning. He propped his chin on the comforter to watch in the mirror as Nate threw his head back, his face a rictus of pleasure.
“Now!” Nate barked, burying himself deep in Mitch and holding still as he moaned long and loud.
The thought that the neighbors might know what was happening as well as the souls in the room had Mitch hurtling down the pleasure spiral with such speed, he could do little more than ride it.
“Oh fuck,” Nate swore, still pumping to extend the enthusiastic muscle spasms rocking Mitch to his core, zinging to his toes and hair and everything in between.
When he coasted to a slow stop and disembarked from the o-train, he realized Nate was lying across his back, his heavy breath fogging his shoulders, hands worming between his chest and the bed to hold him. Mitch gripped one hand and pulled it toward his sternum, entwining their fingers.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Nate murmured sleepily near his ear as they settled more comfortably. They’d have to move to clean up a little, but in a minute. Mitch was too sated and content to budge.
“I have to go back to Durango. That errand didn’t work out so well the first time, so I’m going to see if I can’t take care of it a different way.”
“Want some company?”
Mitch’s eyes flew open and he stared at the balcony doors, carefully not looking in the mirror. Sadie had curled up against the cool glass, which she often did when she got too warm. She hadn’t used her puppy pad, which meant he’d have to move soon anyway, but she wasn’t dancing around so he couldn’t use taking her outside as an excuse to avoid answering.
“I’m good,” he said neutrally. “Thanks, though.” The last thing he needed was someone asking questions about why he was lurking outside some woman’s house long enough for Gary to slip inside and say his goodbyes.
“If you want, I could just go for the car ride, and you can drop me off somewhere while you take care of your business. Then when it’s done, you can pick me up again. I’d like to see what else is around here.” In the mirror, Nate lifted to his elbow behind Mitch’s head and rested his head on his palm.
That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea. Mitch would have nothing to explain, and he could see Gary off to the great beyond without an audience but wouldn’t be alone on the ride home.
“Yeah, okay. If you want to. But right now, I have to take Sadie out.” He spelled the last word so she wouldn’t jump up and hound him while he tried to throw on some sweats and a hoodie.
Nate lifted off him, his dick slipping out of Mitch’s ass. Mitch rolled toward him, smiling. Nate kissed him lazily, his thumb teasing Mitch’s jawline. “Mind if I hop in the shower? I’m definitely up for round two, but I want to get the smell of bar off my skin.”
“Go for it.” Mitch rolled off the bed with a groan, coming slowly to his feet, a twitch in his ass making itself known. “I may join you if you don’t mind. It’ll be interesting anyway, with such a small shower. At least I’m not tipsy anymore.” He chuckled and dressed, clicked his tongue for Sadie to follow, and was out the door and into the cool night air before Nate had gotten off the bed.
While he was out there, he explained the next day’s events to Gary, who could no longer look him in the eye and scowled resentfully when Mitch tugged on their connection to keep him close. Returning to the warmth of his apartment, he immediately stripped. Maybe his ass was out of commission for the rest of the night, but he intended to have fun in so many other ways. This letting loose thing felt amazingly good.
Chapter 8
The Ties that Bind
The ride to Durango was fun, and Mitch was glad Nate asked to come along. After dropping Sadie off at the bookstore so his father could look after her, and making himself and Nate large coffees, they’d hit the road, zipping along in Mitch’s Mazda.
“How the hell do you drive this tiny car when the snow hits?”
Mitch shifted his grip on the steering wheel to pick up his cup and drain the last of his coffee before answering. “They’re really good clearing the streets, so it’s no worse than driving something four-wheel drive. I just make sure I have winter tires on it, and if I have to drive into the mountains for any reason, I switch with my mom. She has a Land Rover, and her work is in town, so she doesn’t mind taking mine.”
“It is a nice car,” Nate said, petting the dash. “But you’d have to pry the keys to my Jeep from my cold dead hands for me to give her up.”
“I kinda figured. You Jeep people are a tribe of your own. A very adamant and vocal tribe.”
“Damn straight.”
Soul Girl leaned forward from the backseat and flicked Nate’s ear a few times, and Mitch bit back a laugh when Nate swatted at the side of his head and scratched his earlobe. Gary, however, sat in the other corner of the backseat, knees drawn up to his ears as he scrunched his large frame into the tiny space. Mitch wished he could tell the guy to spread out, that it wouldn’t matter if Gary’s legs went through the driver’s seat. It’s not like he could do anything to disrupt Mitch’s driving.
After a few minutes of silence, Nate dug his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I plug in some music?”
“Not at all.” Mitch fished the USB cord from the hole in the console where he kept it and passed the end over. They spent the rest of the short trip talking about music while Nate flipped around his playlists, telling stories about where he was when an old song was popular or asking Mitch about his favorites.
Before Mitch knew it, they were crossing into Durango. “Where do you want to hang out while I take care of this thing?”
Nate looked around. “Is ther
e a mall here? Maybe they have a ski supply store. Worst case, I could just wander around or find a bookstore.”
“Yeah, there’s a mall, but it’s not very big. I don’t know if they have skiing stuff.”
“Well, this is where Purgatory is, so I assume they would,” Nate reasoned. “Hell, you could probably take me to the resort, except anything I buy there would be twice the price.”
“Mall’s good. If there’s nothing there, ask some of the employees for a better store, and when I’m done, we can hit up a few more. But if you want skis, it could be an uncomfortable ride back home. Tiny car, remember?” Mitch chucked the side of Nate’s leg as he switched lanes to turn into the mall complex.
“I’m looking more for clothes than equipment.”
Mitch drove around, looking for a good place to drop Nate off, promising to call him as soon as he was finished so they could meet up. Before Nate got out, Mitch halted him with a hand on his biceps.
“Thanks for coming with me.” When he leaned in for a kiss, Nate grinned and returned it enthusiastically.
“See ya in a bit.” Nate got out and shut the door, sauntering into the building like he owned the place.
Mitch watched his ass until he disappeared inside. So hot. When he looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, he caught a glimpse of Gary’s sour face.
“Don’t give me that,” he argued with the soul, who glared. “If I paused my life until every soul I help crosses over, I’d be a total shut-in.”
This time, when Mitch pulled up outside Gary’s ex’s house, he parked in a place not immediately visible from the front windows. Popping the trunk, Mitch retrieved the clipboard and cap he’d stowed before picking up Nate. He’d purposefully worn a brown bowling shirt with light blue accents bearing the embroidered name Donnie on a patch over his heart. The cap matched the brown of the shirt. He hoped, from a distance, he’d appear to be wearing a uniform, and with the addition of the clipboard, hopefully no one would scrutinize him too closely. Pocketing his keys, he traipsed the edge of the property and studied how he could get closer to the house. He didn’t want Gary’s connection stretching too far or have him out of sight too long. Tugging gently on the ethereal string between them, he spied an electrical meter on the side of the house. Bingo.
“Okay,” he said, turning to Gary. “You can pass through walls, so while I’m studying the meter, pretending to be all official-like, you slip inside, do your thing, and come back out when you’re done. Hopefully your door won’t be too far behind.”
Gary gave him a skeptical frown but moved toward the house as if resigned to trying anything. Mitch knelt by the meter and pretended to tick off boxes on his fake paperwork. From the corner of his eye, he watched Gary test his breaking and entering skills by plunging his arm through the side of the house. When nothing bad happened, the soul disappeared in the walls, and Mitch renewed his pretend focus to the meter.
After what felt like an eternity, Gary emerged, silver tracks on his cheeks revealing his emotions. He rubbed his face on his arm as if to wipe the tears away, his edges shuddering with the breath he no longer drew.
“Were you able to say goodbye?”
Gary nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the grass. Mitch had the sudden urge to hug the man but kept himself in check. It’s not like the guy could feel him, and even if he could, Mitch doubted an embrace would be welcomed. Without a word, they went back to Mitch’s car. He shivered in the cold air, wishing he had a brown coat to match his pseudo-uniform. With the car’s heater going full blast, he warmed his chilled fingers in the direct flow of air from the vents, then turned to peer into the backseat. Gary was slumped in a corner, miserable and sad.
“I know it’s hard. I’m sorry this happened to you, for what it’s worth.”
Gary met his eyes and then dipped his head in silent acknowledgment. At that moment, a bright flare of light nearly blinded Mitch, and the deep resonating vibration that came with all celestial doors rattled his ribs. Gary looked at the door with awe and trepidation before scooting closer. After one last glance at Mitch, Gary disappeared through his portal and was gone. The silence in the car afterward felt expectant and heavy, but even that dissipated.
With lighter shoulders and a sigh of relief, Mitch pulled out his cell and dialed Nate’s number. “I’m finished. Where do you want to meet?”
They arranged to catch up with each other at the mall’s food court and go from there. Mitch was starving and hoped he could talk Nate into a greasy slice of pizza.
When he spied Nate at a table with a large shopping bag at his feet, warmth stole into his chest, chasing away the last of the lingering chill. Taking the seat across from him, Mitch resisted the urge to kiss him before sitting. What was wrong with him? He really wasn’t one for public displays of affection, and on a weekend the mall, however small, was crowded with shoppers. Christmas was around the corner, as the decorations attested to, and for some reason, Mitch’s usual caution was utterly absent. Soul Girl stood nearby, people-watching.
“Hi. Did everything go smoothly this time?” Nate asked, squeezing Mitch’s forearm and letting go after a lingering brush of fingers.
“Much better. Wanna get food?”
Nate made a face, looking around at their options, each one greasier than the one before. “Let’s find somewhere with a few more choices.”
“Choices like what?” Mitch asked.
“Somewhere I can eat something that won’t have me rolling down the mountain like a butterball turkey.”
“Well, Thanksgiving is coming up, you know. You’d look good stuffed to the gills and covered in oil.”
Nate threw his head back and laughed. “Who knew under such a mild-mannered exterior, you’re a total perv?”
Mitch’s face heated with the realization that not only had he said that out loud, but in a very crowded place. “The things you do to me.”
They stood and walked to the exit closest to Mitch’s parking spot, and Nate slung his arm across Mitch’s shoulders, pulling him close. “Want to see what else I can do to you?”
“I’m intrigued,” Mitch answered, trying to keep his voice level so as not betray his growing arousal. “I’m also intrigued how ‘just a few things’ turned into a giant shopping bag that could easily fit an entire store.” He gestured to Nate’s purchases. “What’d you get? Anything good?”
Nate looked away, suddenly abashed. “I picked up a couple things for you, too. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh.” There was no hiding Mitch’s surprise. “What are they?”
They’d reached the car by then, and Mitch clicked the button to pop the trunk. Nate set the bag inside, then rummaged in it for a moment before coming up with goggles, gloves, thick socks, a matching scarf and hat.
“Wow,” Mitch said, taken aback. “That’s way too much, Nate.”
Nate wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I really want to teach you how to ski. And I wanted to make sure you have the right stuff. If you’re miserable and cold on the slopes because you’re not wearing warm enough gloves or socks, then you won’t have a good time.”
Touched, Mitch put a finger beneath Nate’s chin and raised his face so he could see his eyes. “Thank you. No one’s ever been that considerate of my comfort before.”
“No one?” Nate asked, arching a brow. “Well then, everyone you’ve ever dated is a dick.”
It was Mitch’s turn to laugh. “Nah, I just haven’t dated any ski instructors.”
Nate grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
“What?”
“Calling me a ski instructor. But I haven’t gotten the job yet, so no counting chickens.” He flashed a cheesy, over-the-top smile and threw his arms around Mitch. “Sorry, I’m just happy. It’s been a while since anything good’s happened for me.”
Right there in the parking lot, Mitch kissed him. “I’m glad you consider me part of your something good. And don’t worry, you’ll get the job,” he said whe
n they broke apart. “Now, where do you want to go to eat?”
They settled on a sandwich place, filled their bellies, and were soon on the road back to Caperville. The drive was pleasant even with little conversation while Nate’s iTunes played softly through the car speakers. The scenery was as breathtaking as always, and high, wispy clouds snagged on the mountain tops, as if the peaks themselves were intolerant of any more gloomy days and were determined to let the sun through.
“Can I ask you a question?” Mitch asked hesitantly.
“You can ask.” Nate grinned, the implied I’m not sure I’ll answer loud and clear.
Mitch supposed, as guarded as he himself was, he couldn’t blame the guy for holding his cards close. “Tell me how you got so into skiing.”
“Oh, well. We grew up close to Bretton Woods in New Hampshire, and the minute my dad put us on the slopes, we were goners, Tate and I both.”
“How old were you?”
“Six. It turned out we were pretty good, too, so….” Nate trailed off, but he straightened in his seat and squared his shoulders. Mitch’s quick glance made him think the guy was making a decision. “So we started training.”
“Training?” That wasn’t what Mitch had expected. “For what?”
“The Olympics and the World Cup circuit,” Nate said simply. Mitch gaped at him for so long, Nate put a hand on the wheel to keep them in their lane. “Need a break?”
Refocusing on the road, Mitch murmured a no. “So you were in the Olympics?”
“Almost.” Nate’s smile was wistful. “We were both alternates. Skiing isn’t like gymnastics or ice skating, where you’re considered too old once you hit your late teens or early twenties. The average age for downhill skiers is mid-twenties. Some of the biggest names are still skiing in their mid-to-late thirties. Hell, Bode Miller’s thirty-eight and still not talking about retiring. Lindsey Vonn is thirty-one and at the top of her game.
“For Tate and me to be alternates at eighteen was kind of a big deal. Honestly, I don’t know why our parents got us so involved, knowing they were going to yank us to go to college.”