Ten Inches

by AJ Hardcourt

  Ian pushed his chair back. “We’re already checked in.” He held up the keycard. “Since it’s going to get loud in here, let’s go to the room and make some calls. Is there someone you trust that you can ask to do the report?”

  Nick stood. “No, I have all my work at home.”

  They started across the main room of the lodge. “I’m sorry,” Ian said, gathering his board and gear.

  Nick grabbed his. “It’s not your fault. I’m a big boy and made the decision to ditch the office in favor of the powder.” He’d live with the consequences of that decision. Truthfully, even knowing he might lose his job over this, he didn’t regret spending the day with Ian. He’d make the same choice again. Call him a glutton for punishment. He would rather ache with longing than deny himself their friendship.

  Ian wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “So then if you’re screwed anyway, why don’t we enjoy the room? Get a couple of beers, watch some television, see what tomorrow brings. If you get fired,” he said and cocked an eyebrow, “we’ll be first on the lift. Imagine shredding through six feet of snow. We’ll hit the back country.”

  Nick laughed and shook his head. He could almost wish to be fired, if the job market was better. “Lead the way.”

  Skiers began to fill the lobby of the resort. Nick followed Ian as they weaved their way past the gondola loading area. Ski and snowboarding equipment filled the racks. Groups gathered and people spoke into cell phones. Nick and Ian slipped out the main doors. Heavy snowfall dropped visibility to less the fifty feet. Ian squinted into the distance. “I’m not scheduled, but they may need me for ski patrol tonight.” He glanced over his shoulder to Nick. “It’s your in, if you want it.”

  Nick nodded. He’d rather keep the job he had, but he also wouldn’t leave people stranded on the slopes if he could help. Blowing wind whipped the falling snow. The icy spray stung his eyes and mouth as his breath clouded in the air.

  The room Ian reserved was on the back side of the building on the upper floor. They entered the doors leading to the pool, gym and sauna. Ian pressed the up button on the elevator and the doors immediately opened. A moment later, Nick followed Ian down a long corridor

  “We’re just down the hall from the bar.” They took a left and an immediate right. Ian slid the keycard through the lock then opened the door. Nick preceded him into the room and dropped his gear along the wall.

  “Holy shit.” Nick turned a quick circle. Ian had reserved them a suite.

  Ian stepped into the room and the door clicked shut. They were alone, in a hotel room, and the air instantly thickened. Nick inhaled a deep breath and willed his body to relax. Awareness simmered hot in his gut. Anyone but Ian, and he’d take the subtle hints and lingering glances as interest. But not Ian.

  Nick surveyed the large open room. A dancing fire crackled and burned in the hearth on the north wall. Dark leather sofa and love seat framed an intimate seating area. A flat screen television hung across from the sofa above a long table where a DVD player sat. A mini bar stretched from the corner to the fireplace. The decor was rustic yet elegant, luxury all the way. But that wasn’t the best feature.

  Nick crossed the room. The carpet was plush and thick beneath his heavy boots. “I hope the room was a comp.”

  The entire East wall was floor-to-ceiling windows. The mountain vista stole the air from his lungs. Snow blanketed the runs carving into the mountain. Clouds clung to the mountain peaks, wrapping the horizon in a heavy gray shroud.

  “Nick.” The husky word from Ian warmed…yet chilled Nick’s flesh. Ian stood close behind him. Nick could feel Ian’s presence without turning around. He was afraid to turn around, afraid of what he might see in Ian’s eyes while secretly wanting so much more.

  Nick didn’t speak. He watched the snow fall as rioting emotions ripped through his gut.

  “I don’t know what to do.” Ian’s voice quavered, and he took a deep breath. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stood next to Nick.

  Nick stared at their reflection in the glass. “Don’t know what to do about…?”

  Ian’s mouth formed a hard line, and his jaw ticked. He glanced at his feet, out the window, turned to Nick, then quickly shifted his gaze away.

  “Ian?”

  Ian sighed and his shoulders slumped. He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left and slightly turned toward Nick again. “You really need me to explain?”

  Yes, he did, because Nick didn’t want to make assumptions, didn’t want to hope for something impossible. And if he admitted to being attracted to Ian and wanting more, only to find out Ian needed advice on something trivial, Nick would fuck up their friendship. Or worse, Ian might want advice on Jenny. “I don’t want to guess. If you have something to say—”

  “I do,” he interrupted. “Since you don’t seem to be able—or want—to pick up on my not-so-subtle hints, there’s nothing to do besides come right out and ask.” He stepped in front of Nick. “Are you interested in me?”

  “What?” Nick’s heart raced. What was he supposed to say to that? Yes…and no. God, yes, but he wanted to kiss Ian, touch him, strip him out of his clothes and taste every inch of his toned body. Hell no, not if knowing would make their friendship uncomfortable. “You can’t ask me that.” He turned around, and that’s when he saw the open bedroom door…and one king-size bed. His cock thickened and his hands trembled. Tingles started at the base of his skull and chased along his spine. “What do you care? We’re friends.”

  “We both know it’s more than friendship.”

  “Like brothers,” Nick clarified, but he didn’t feel brotherly toward Ian. He was half in love with him.

  “Bullshit.”

  “You’re straight.”

  “Maybe.” Ian shrugged. “Or I just never met a man I wanted to fuck.”

  “What do you want from me?” Nick strode across the room to the mini bar. He needed a drink. Maybe two…or three.

  “The truth.”

  “No, we’re not talking about this.” He bent, opened the small fridge and grabbed a beer. “How’s Jenny?” Redirect the conversation and remind Ian he has a girlfriend.

  “Shit, Nick, for my best friend, you certainly don’t pay much attention to what’s going on in my life.”

  Nick lifted his gaze to Ian briefly, then grabbed the bottle opener and popped the top off the beer.

  “I haven’t dated Jenny in three months.”

  Nick paused with the bottle at his lips. “Really?”

  “I haven’t dated anyone.” Ian took a step toward him. “Because what started out as curiosity began to keep me up at night.” Another step closer. “I found myself making excuses on why I couldn’t see Jenny. A text from Tam used to give me a hard-on.”

  Tam. That was her name. The booty call baby. “So if Tam and Jenny aren’t doing it for you, who is?”

  God, he wanted to rip the answer from Ian’s mouth. Skin was the only thing keeping him together. He tingled, electrified with the tension in the room. The heat in Ian’s eyes had Nick’s blood warming. Hot, chaotic pulses thrummed through his system. His cock was hard, his heart pounded, but it wasn’t fear surging adrenaline through his body.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”

  Nick laughed. “Attraction isn’t hard to figure out.” He set the beer on the counter. The room closed in on him, narrowing until his only focus was Ian. The heavy, rapid breaths he drew. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Why are you nervous?” And Ian was. His fingers tapped against his thigh.

  “Because every time I think about you, I sweat. I’ve always agreed with my dick. Big tits, blonde hair, you know me, I’m a man whore. And I love a nice ass.” Ian released a shuddering exhale and leaned against the wall. “But I guess about six months ago, something changed. I told myself my attraction to you was because we were spending too much time together. But then I only wanted to be with you more.” Ian thumped his head against the wall. “I admit I’ve tri
ed to convince myself that I’m not gay, because I love women. But I can’t deny what I feel when I’m with you. I can’t pretend anymore.”

  Nick stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So you suggest we strip, fuck around, spend the night together and then you’ll work the gay out of your system?”

  Ian furrowed his brow. “No. I want to strip and fuck all night, sleep a bit, fuck again, rip some flake and then go home together.” Ian closed the space between them. “Label me gay if you want, although I don’t believe labels apply to us. If you had tits and a pussy, I’d still want to fuck you.”

  Nick shuddered and took a step back. “Listen Ian, you know I’m attracted to you. Everyone is attracted to you.” The space behind the mini bar grew warm and tight. Just like he knew Ian’s ass would be.

  “Do you want to fuck me?” There was no mischief, humor or innuendo in Ian’s request. The bluntly stated words had Nick’s cock fighting against the zipper of his boarding vent pants.

  “No.” Anyone else, Nick would already have his pants down and his dick out. But he didn’t want to be some experimental fuck for Ian to discover his sexual orientation.

  “Liar.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I think you’re hot. And yes, I’ve imagined sex between us.”

  Ian picked up Nick’s beer, tipped it to his lips and took several long swallows. “Thinking about you beating off, as you think about me, gets me hot.” He stroked his hand up the beer, smearing the cold sweat from the bottle. “Then I have to beat off thinking about you.”

  “Fuck, Ian. What do you expect me to do?” He knew what he wanted to do. Nick didn’t think his cock had ever been harder. Here was the opportunity he’d dreamed of. A day—perhaps the whole night—to fuck his best friend. To feel those full lips against his own. To suck his cock, touch his body…But what if after, regrets killed their friendship. Once they’d fucked, could they go back to being just friends? “I don’t want to be your first.”

  Ian closed the space between them. “Nick, baby, you’re going to be my only.” He rested his hand on Nick’s skin-hugging, thermal shirt.

  Nick grasped his hand. He stared hard into Ian’s eyes and slowly inched Ian’s hand down his torso, across his pectorals, on route to his groin. Nick’s abdominals quivered. Although, he guided Ian, Ian wasn’t fighting the direction. “Are you sure?”

  Ian’s fingertips paused at the waistband of Nick’s pants. “Honestly, I’m not sure what scares me more. Following through…or stopping now.”

  Nick wrapped his fingers around the nape of Ian’s neck. Ian’s skin was hot. Breaths blended. Regardless of the consequences, Nick was going to kiss him. “We can always stop…but we can’t go back.”

  Ian swallowed, and his tongue slipped out and wet his bottom lip. “Okay.”

  Nick touched his mouth to Ian’s, only the slightest pressure. A kiss to test. Nick believed Ian when he claimed he’d never kissed or touched a man intimately. A first encounter could be freeing for a gay man. But without patience and foreplay, there wouldn’t be as much pleasure as there would be pain. Nick remembered his first. Sometimes he’d rather forget.

  Nick didn’t want that for Ian. Didn’t want it for himself. Tilting his head to the side, Nick glided his lips over Ian’s. “Kiss me.”

  Ian opened his mouth. And Nick sank into Ian’s wet heat. Tongue rubbed along tongue. Nick pivoted, backing Ian against the wall. A moan erupted from Nick’s chest. The spark of want blazed into an inferno of need. For too long he’d wondered how Ian’s lips and body would feel against his own. Ian braced his hands on Nick’s hips and rocked his pelvis into Nick’s. Mouths sealed, chest to chest and cock to cock.

  The hard ridge of Ian’s erection ground against Nick’s aching cock. Ian nipped at Nick’s lips. Ian wasn’t hesitant or reserved. He kissed rough and deep. Wild and possessive. His tongue thrust into Nick’s mouth, sucking, tasting, demanding an equally aggressive response.

  Nick broke the kiss and gasped. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah.” Ian leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Only the sound of their breathing filled the room. The intensity crackled in the air. This was really happening.

  A few moments passed, neither speaking. Putting an inch of space between them, Nick reached for the hem of Ian’s shirt. With a tug, he peeled the fabric over Ian’s grooved stomach, unveiling his corded abdominals, and broad chest. He lifted it over Ian’s head. A fine trail of silken hair, slightly damp with perspiration, dusted his pectorals.

  Ian’s gaze locked on Nick. Ian didn’t smile, didn’t move, yet Nick responded to Ian’s unspoken words. He flattened his palm against Ian’s lower abdomen, feeling Ian’s muscles tense with the touch. And then he tugged the waistband.

  The snap on Ian’s pants popped, the zipper parted and the loose material sagged to his hips. Nick closed in, meshing his lips to Ian’s, opening his mouth and spearing his tongue in for another passionate kiss. He ate at Ian’s mouth as he slid his hand beneath Ian’s base layer of clothing and banded his fingers around the hot, heavy girth of Ian’s rod.

  Ian’s hips bucked, driving his cock through the tight trap of Nick’s fingers. Nick squeezed tighter.

  “Oh, God.” Ian moaned and slowly fucked Nick’s fist. “Please.”

  Nick’s mind numbed to everything but Ian. Funny, amazing, straight Ian was whispering for more. Nick slowly inched away and sank to his knees. His mouth watered and his tongue swelled. Ian’s cut cock, heavily veined and glistening with pre-cum bobbed in front of his face. Nick cupped Ian’s sac in one hand, rolling Ian’s balls between his fingers. He leaned forward and licked the velvety length from root to tip. The rich musky scent had his own cock pulsing.

  “You’re killing me,” Ian said, an unspoken plea on his lips. He pushed his pants farther down his legs.

  Nick felt the same way. Having coveted the impossible for so long, but he didn’t want to rush a moment. Closing his eyes, he opened wide over the plum-shaped head. Curling his tongue around the flared rim, he savored the essence of Ian’s cream.

  “Ah.” Ian gripped Nick’s head. “Christ, Nick, you’re mouth is fucking hot. I’ve imagined you sucking my dick more times than I can count, but it was never like this.”

  Relaxing his throat, Nick swallowed more of the length. Hollowing his cheeks, he rolled his tongue over the taut, pulsing flesh. Damn, but Ian tasted so good in his mouth. Nick twisted and pumped his fist. Saliva coated the shaft. Nick wanted him wetter. Hotter. He wanted to drain the cum from Ian’s nuts.

  As he gripped and pumped the shaft, he took Ian’s sac into his mouth.

  Ian’s fingers tightened. “I’m going to come.” His knees bent and his buttocks clenched.

  Nick worked his mouth over the crown, along the steely length and back up. Using the wetness from Ian’s balls, Nick traced the soft tissue beneath Ian’s sac to his tight, pink hole. Nick circled the puckered entrance. Then he slipped the tip of his finger into Ian.

  Sculpted muscles bunched in Ian’s ripped thighs. His grip tightened in Nick’s hair as he thrust his hips, driving his cock in and out of Nick’s mouth. Nick relaxed and just let Ian fuck his face. He screwed his finger into Ian’s ass, eased out, then plunged in again.

  Ian pumped hard, driving toward release.

  Nick worked in a second finger, sawing in tandem with Ian’s thrusting motions. Ian grunted, guttural masculine sounds that seeped into Nick. Ian’s primed cock hardened, lengthened, readied to shoot.

  Nick glided his lips down the shaft again, taking Ian’s cock deep into his mouth, and slammed the full length of his fingers into Ian’s rectum, grazing his prostrate.

  “I can’t hold on.” Ian cursed again, his body jerking violently. Hot ropes of cum spewed from his dick, splashing Nick’s tongue and pooling in his mouth. Nick swallowed around the thickness of Ian’s rigid cock, drinking him down, savoring each erotic pulse.