by Lucy Lennox
“Mr. Reed eventually came out of his shell… we even vacationed together once.”
“Let me guess, Daddy’s yacht, the South of France,” Aiden drawled.
I elbowed him. “Greek islands.”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “So what happened?”
I shook my head. “His mom just up and left one day. Filed for divorce and moved to Europe to become some marketing bigwig. Kicker is, she didn’t even fight for custody of him. I don’t think he ever saw her again… not even after his dad died, not if he went to live with his Aunt Lolly.” I reached down and grabbed a small rock off the ground and began rolling it between my fingers. It was a nervous habit I’d tried to break, especially since it pissed my dad off to no end, but Aiden knew all about my weird quirks.
“He was devastated. Kept asking me what he’d done wrong… why his own mother hadn’t loved him. I didn’t know what to tell him,” I whispered.
I felt Aiden’s hand settle on the back of my neck. It was a testament to how upset I must have seemed, because he rarely touched me when emotions were involved. Aiden didn’t do emotions well— not showing them and most definitely not being on the receiving end of them.
“Xander’s mom leaving was hard on his dad, but for a lot of reasons.” I glanced at Aiden and said, “She was the breadwinner in the family and Mr. Reed stayed home to take care of Xander. I guess he was planning on going back to school, but then Mrs. Reed left… anyway, he didn’t have a job and things were tough. So, my dad offered him a job.”
Aiden nodded. “In his investment firm?”
I shook my head. I’d told Aiden about how close Xander and I had been as kids and that he’d lived in the guest house on my parents’ property, but I’d never gotten into the details of how that had come about or that the guest house had actually been the caretaker’s cottage. “He hired Mr. Reed to be the estate’s caretaker. In exchange, he got a small salary and he and Xander lived in the little cottage on the property.”
“Fuck,” Aiden muttered as he realized what I was saying.
I fell silent as my thoughts drifted to the day Xander had realized what his father working for mine had really meant. At first, all we’d both seen had been the benefits in that we’d be living within minutes of one another. At eight years old, we hadn’t cared about the semantics of it all. As far as we’d been concerned, we were neighbors and that had been the extent of it.
But when Xander and I had witnessed my father berating Mr. Reed for some oversight with how he’d mowed the grass in the wrong direction or something equally ridiculous, there’d been a subtle shift in our friendship that I’d spent years trying to overcome. But I’d managed it. I’d had to fight like hell to prove to Xander that I never saw him as anything other than my best friend, but I’d done it.
Until the day I’d had to walk past him on the first day of high school and pretend he was just some guy.
It had been the beginning of the end.
“And I thought my dad was a prick,” Aiden murmured.
I chuckled. Aiden’s dad was an asshole, but for a whole slew of other reasons.
“I think I told myself Xander was okay after I discovered he was gone because I needed to believe that to make it through each day, you know?” I said softly. I rubbed the smooth stone between my fingers.
“He was your world too, wasn’t he?” Aiden asked gently.
I cursed the tears that threatened to fall. “Yeah, he was,” I said. “I thought if I could just keep us together long enough until we got to college or something…”
I snorted as I realized how ridiculous my lofty dream had been back then. I’d thought that once I’d turned eighteen, I’d somehow find the balls to stand up to my father. It hadn’t even been about wanting a different kind of relationship with Xander at that point, though the seed had been planted for sure the summer just before we’d started high school. No, I’d just wanted to get to that magic age where I was supposedly allowed to say no to my parents. But even at nearly thirty years old, I still hadn’t figured out how to get that word to actually mean anything with them. My father just had me over too many barrels at this point.
Just like he had the night Xander had begged me not to do what I’d promised I never would.
Leave him.
I felt Aiden’s fingers close over mine, which had started to frantically rub back and forth over the stone.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Aiden asked.
“About what?”
He nodded his head towards Xander’s tent. “Ranger Rick,” he said with a smirk.
“In case you missed it, he’s not talking to me,” I muttered.
“Who said anything about talking?” Aiden’s eyes danced with mischief as he took the stone from my hand and tossed it on the ground. “I say you go in there, unzip that sleeping bag of his and hoover his dick before he even knows what hit him.”
“Ass,” I said as I punched him in the arm.
“You can hoover that too,” Aiden chuckled.
“We don’t even know if he’s gay,” I said, as if that were the only thing stopping me from doing what Aiden had suggested.
“I’ve been on the receiving end of that mouth, B. If he isn’t gay already, he will be by morning.”
I shook my head and laughed, though inside my gut was stirring with excitement at even the prospect of getting my mouth on Xander. No, it was way too risky, not to mention highly inappropriate with the kids around… even if Xander’s tent was on the outskirts of the camp site. Jesus, was I even considering this?
Yeah, fuck it, I was. Because maybe Aiden was right and I’d never get the chance to tell him with words what I was feeling. Maybe nothing in my current arsenal of weapons would get my foot in the door with Xander— to give me the chance to explain why I’d done what I’d done that night. Even if he shut me down, maybe I’d get the few seconds I needed to prove to him that I hadn’t ever left him.
Not really.
“I can’t,” I whispered, more to myself than Aiden. But I had to wonder what was really stopping me. The fact that it was something so outside of my wheelhouse, or the fact that it might not make any difference?
I felt Aiden’s lips skim my temple. “Just think. If it doesn’t work out, this time you can be the one to walk away. Go get ‘em, babe.” And then he was gone, leaving me alone to stare at Xander’s tent, which was suddenly luring me to it like a goddamn Siren’s call.
“What the hell,” I murmured as I climbed to my feet. I literally had nothing else to lose.
Chapter 7
Xander
After the stress of the day, I slept hard. I hadn’t expected to, really. I’d expected to toss and turn with thoughts of Bennett plaguing me like they had the night before, but the cold air of the mountain night and the familiar sounds of the surrounding wilderness worked their magic. Soon I was in the midst of the kind of dream that was so delicious, I wanted to hold on to it and savor it all night long.
In the dream, Bennett snuck into my tent the way he used to sneak into my room when we were younger, only this time we were no longer kids. He was full-grown— a man who exuded strength and masculinity. I didn’t see him enter the tent, but a part of me just knew he was there. His scent, maybe, or the little hairs all over my body that seemed to prickle whenever he was near.
“Benny?” I whispered in the dream. “You scared?” Normally I was the one who was scared, but maybe this time was different. My eyes were only half-open, but he seemed terrified as he crawled closer.
I automatically opened my sleeping bag the way I’d done for him a thousand times before and he slid in alongside my body.
“Xander,” he whispered, and it was a sound of longing— hesitation and want all rolled into one. He said something else, but I was still focused on how he’d said my name.
“C’mere,” I said, holding out my arm so he could snuggle closer. He was watching me with big eyes and still seemed spooked. “You okay?” I mumbled, pulling him
tight against me and almost groaning at the feel of his body against mine.
I saw Bennett’s mouth move, but I couldn’t make sense of what he said, a clear sign I was exhausted. But I didn’t really care what he was saying, either. I was just so glad he was finally here… where he belonged. His hand felt cool against my heated skin and my body involuntarily shivered as his fingers danced over my side, my back, my belly. Everywhere he touched, he left delicious pulses of energy behind.
I was about to beg him to finally let me get a taste of him, but before I could open my mouth, his lips were on mine. My whole body shook with the impact of that first touch of his mouth.
It wasn’t anything like I’d imagined. It was so much fucking better.
I could barely breathe, think. I could only feel as his mouth worshiped mine and I knew, just knew, he was finally mine. I didn’t care that it wasn’t real. I didn’t care that it was the best fucking dream I’d ever had. It was everything I’d ever wanted but knew I’d never have. Bennett Crawford, full-grown and in bed with me.
Fuck.
If I was going to dream about being in bed with Bennett, I was going to go for it.
“Want you,” I growled against his ear.
A deep groan escaped him before he sprawled his body half-on, half-off mine. “I want you so badly, Xander. Please.”
I stretched my neck up to brush my lips across his and it set off an explosion of action. Bennett’s mouth chased mine and latched onto it, and I grabbed the back of his head with both hands to keep him there— our tongues fighting each other and breaths coming fast and hard. Bennett’s cock pressed into my belly and I grunted, arching my hips up to press mine into him as much as I could.
Bennett’s hands were on my face and the kissing was fevered. It seemed like our hands and mouths were everywhere, trying to release years of pent-up desire for each other. I wanted him so desperately, I was afraid I was going to burst into tears with the frustration of needing to get inside him.
My hands managed to get underneath his clothes and I felt miles of warm Bennett skin under my palms. It was too good. That was when a wisp of reality blew across my consciousness with warning bells.
No dream was this good.
No dream handed me my biggest wish on a silver platter.
Chapter 8
Bennett
I was terrified. What if Xander hated me even more after I snuck into his tent? Was that even possible? Maybe not. Maybe that only meant I had nothing left to lose.
After unzipping his tent flap as silently as I could, I crawled in. Bear lifted his head up from where he lay curled in a ball at Xander’s side and then stood and stretched before sauntering past me out the tent flap, as if he knew what I was going to do and didn’t want to stick around to watch me humiliate myself. I could hardly blame him.
I looked back toward Xander to see if he was still asleep. Sure enough, he was dead to the world. There was enough ambient moonlight coming through the mesh panel over his head to show me just how peaceful he looked.
God, he was beautiful. Even more now than he’d been as a kid. The planes of his face were a combination of familiar and strange. Thick eyelashes rested on his cheeks and I was desperate to reach out and stroke his face.
His sleeping bag was completely unzipped, and he was lying half in and half out of it in nothing but boxer briefs, despite the cold night. I had to stifle a smile as I remembered how hot of a sleeper he was. He’d been like my very own furnace during cold nights spent sleeping out under the stars when we were kids.
I wasn’t able to peel my eyes off the miles of exposed skin laid out before me. He was fit and tanned, presumably from living a life outdoors, and it seemed like every muscle was lean and defined. I reached my hand out instinctively, as if to run fingers over the bumps of his abdominal muscles, but I stopped myself before making contact.
Fuck. I was a creeper. I needed to turn around and leave. What the hell had I been thinking? But just as I started to turn and make my escape, I heard his sleepy mumble.
“Benny?” He paused before adding, “You scared?”
My throat tightened at the same words he’d asked me so many times when we were kids, and I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment. I turned to look at him and felt the stupid-ass prickly feeling behind my eyes as I whispered his name longingly. I forced myself not to move any closer to him, though my body screamed for me to do it. “Shhh, I’m not here. Go back to sleep.”
“C’mere,” he said as he pushed the sleeping bag off the rest of his body and opened his arms invitingly. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew that. But I didn’t care. The chance to feel his arms around me one more time…
I stifled the tears that threatened to fall, shoved away the shame of what I was doing, and crawled into his open arms.
“You okay?” he murmured, reminding me he was still clearly half-asleep.
“No,” I whispered to myself. “I want to kiss you so badly, it’s tearing me up inside.” I couldn’t stop myself from letting my hand slide all over his side, chest, and belly.
Xander’s eyes dipped to my mouth as his tongue came out to wet his own lips. The combination sent blood straight to my dick and I groaned. Fuck it. I was, at most, five seconds away from being kicked out of his tent when he came fully awake, and I was sure as shit going to take advantage of those five seconds before that happened.
Before I could reconsider, I leaned forward, landing my mouth on his as softly as I could. Just a taste, I told myself. One fucking taste to last me the rest of my life.
My hand slid gently along the side of his face as the first feel of his mouth hit my senses and I sucked in a breath. That’s all it was supposed to be— just a goodnight kiss before I left him to fall back asleep. With any luck, he wouldn’t even remember I’d been there.
But before I could pull away, Xander’s hand came up to hold the back of my head and bring my lips close again.
“Fuck,” he growled before latching his mouth onto mine. This time there was nothing soft about it. The kiss was fevered and frenzied. Within seconds, it was all seeking tongues and nipping teeth, roaming hands and arching cocks. My brain short-circuited, and I lost all remnants of rational thought.
Xander Reed was making out with me and the entire fucking world ceased to exist. The only things left were our heated breaths, thundering hearts, and seeking fingers. His body was on fire, and I tried my best to run my hands over every inch of skin available to me. His own hands had finally settled on my ass and were pulling me in tight so we could grind our dicks together.
“Want you,” he said, his voice low and rumbly against my ear.
They were the words I’d been waiting a lifetime to hear. Words I’d heard many times from all sorts of men, but never like this. Never from the only man I’d wanted to hear them from.
“I want you so badly, Xander. Please,” I begged without shame as I pressed him onto his back and covered his upper body with mine.
My cock was hard and pulsing, making me wonder if his was leaking too. I had to touch him. What I really wanted was to put my mouth on him, but I’d settle for sneaking a hand into his underwear and copping a feel.
While Xander sucked on the edge of my earlobe and whispered unintelligible words, I ran my palm across the sparse trail of hair leading from his navel to his waistband and dipped below to find the head of his cock pushing out of the top of his boxer briefs. I slid my hand inside to grasp his length, but instead of feeling him arch up into my touch the way I would have expected, I felt his entire body stiffen.
I lifted my head up and locked eyes with him. His were wide with shock and everything that followed seemed to happen in slow motion.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled, scrambling back away from me until running into the side of the tent and almost capsizing it. The poles snapped back into their proper position when he stopped moving, and he had to put his hand up to support the nylon shell above him.
His eyes were crazy, and his
free hand flew up to cover his mouth.
“I-I…,” I stammered. “We… we were kissing, and you—”
“Out,” he demanded in a low voice dripping with hatred. “Get the fuck out of my tent.”
“But Xander—”
“Fine, then I’ll go,” he bit out, moving toward the tent flap.
“No, I’ll go,” I said quickly, not wanting to kick him out of his own tent in the middle of the night. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely manage the zipper. When I looked back at Xander, I saw him run his hands through his hair, reminding me that I’d had my own fingers in his gorgeous long hair only moments before. Would I ever get to touch it again? Not likely.
His eyes narrowed as he glared at me, and I felt my face burn with humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered before turning to leave. And fuck if I wasn’t sorry for those being the only words I seemed able to say to him anymore.
Chapter 9
Xander
I’m sorry.
Bennett’s words from the night before kept echoing in my brain. Words I thought I’d heard him mumble when he’d turned away from me the night my dad had died. Words I wasn’t sure I’d ever believe coming out of his goddamned mouth again.
I tightened the top rope anchors, making them secure around a giant tree trunk at the top of the crag for the rock climbing workshop I was giving in a few minutes. Aiden and Bennett were doing another one of their team-building exercises with the boys several hundred yards away while I secured our climb and prepped the harnesses.
We’d spent the morning hiking over Fury Pass to Merry Flats. The wildflower-filled meadow between Mt. Fury and Woodland Rise was one of my favorite places to camp. When we’d come over the pass to the meadow, several of the boys had burst out singing, skipping and twirling like the von Trapp kids from The Sound of Music. By the time we’d reached the campsite on the far side of the meadow, there’d been more songs stuck in my head than I could count.