“Don’t mention it, but you owe me six bucks for that. It wasn’t part of your order, that’s for my next stop. And I’ll have to drive back into town to get more.” Cat called out from the inside of a large shopping bag.
He looked up in time to see Chad pull a bill from his wallet and hand it to her. He’d have to reimburse the kid for the motel, and the gas, and the food, and everything he’d paid for while Skip was a zombie.
“This is a lot of food,” Chad commented as the bags kept coming. “For one person.”
Most of it was precooked foods Skip could pop into the oven when he was hungry. The rest was whatever Cat thought he’d need, for four weeks spent in front of his computer.
Sometimes he found exactly what he was craving; other times, he left more than he’d eaten. “Please tell me there are no new-wave hippie monstrosities in there waiting to give me flashbacks?”
“You didn’t know a good thing when you had it,” Cat called back with a wink and a smirk.
“Sorry. Not sorry. Once this boy escaped the commune and discovered McDonald’s, it was all over. Not going back. Though, if you remembered to get some of that Fage yogurt that I like, then close enough.” He opened the bottle of stomach medicine and drank half of it. “Gag… that shit’s still terrible.”
Cat gathered up her bags and walked over to Skip; She wrapped him in her arms and lightly kissed his cheek. “I gotta run now. Give me a call if you need anything,” she said, then leaned in to whisper. “This one’s going to be a heartbreaker.”
Skip nodded and hugged her back. There was nothing to say to that. Not one goddamned thing. “Thanks for taking care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Starve, is what.” She patted him again, and waved to Chad. “Nice to meet you, Chad. I’m sorry about your dad. Really. He was a good man.”
And she flitted out of his kitchen without a backward glance. Skip leaned against the bar because the room started spinning. “The guest room is up the stairs to the right. You can’t miss it. It has a private bathroom.”
Chad stood on the other side of the island, looking at him with wide, blank eyes. He wasn’t standing in the rigid military stance he’d used the past couple of days. He looked as if he was seriously reconsidering his current predicament. Skip didn’t blame him.
“Do you have a washing machine?” Wasn’t exactly the question Skip had anticipated.
“Uh, yeah.” He pointed down the hallway behind Chad. “It’s in the mudroom off the back deck. There’s a hot tub outside if you need it, and there are hiking trails. I’ve marked most of them as I blazed my trail. You should have phone service everywhere. There’s a tower not far from here. It’s decent, unless it storms. Then it’s spotty, same with the satellite cable and internet.”
“I don’t have a computer,” Chad said after a moment, his eyes still blank. “You slept with her.”
Skip sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Chad didn’t seem the jealous type. “A long time ago, when I first came to town. Yeah, we had a thing. It didn’t last. She moved on. I moved on. I’ve been with more women than men. My last lover was male, and that one ended badly. He wanted more than I could give.”
“I am not the jealous, clingy type. I don’t need anything from you.” Chad’s gaze lost the blank look, but Skip couldn’t tell what he saw there. He looked around the cabin at the soaring beams and the leaded glass. “I don’t need a sugar daddy. I’m not a gold digger.”
“Because your dad left you a million-dollar life insurance policy. I know, Chad. I didn’t think you were. And…” Skip hauled himself off the stool, and went around to stand beside the man. “Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t get sick often. I didn’t mean to saddle you with any of this. If you want to book a flight anywhere, I’ll take you to the airport. Stay if you want. I’m going to be here until the end of April. That’s the plan at least.”
“And then, you’re off to Ireland for the summer,” Chad repeated, and Skip tried not to think he sounded like a petulant child. He didn’t, but for a moment Skip wanted to believe.
Skip slunk closer, skimming his cheek over Chad’s scruff. He trembled at Skip’s touch. “Stay until then, if we work… come with me.”
The slight moan was low enough that Skip wondered if he’d imagined the sound. Chad didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, in that rigid stance that was relaxed for him. The tremble and moan the only indication he’d heard. Skip skimmed his hand down the man’s arm, and left him standing in the kitchen to gather his wits.
“Help yourself to anything. Mi house es tu house.” He grabbed his bags, and tried not to wince at the weight of them. He wasn’t going to have anyone carrying him up the stairs. Not again. Not ever again.
* * * * *
The man reeked of vomit and sweat, and Chad had a stiffy. He watched as Skip struggled up the stairs in the open front room, trying to prove he was fine, and hadn’t just spent the last several hours sick as a dog. Chad let him go. He had his own problems. Like, how to get over this attraction to a man who didn’t want him.
He ignored the problem in his shorts… and speaking of shorts, he went to find his pack. He was down to his last pair of clean shorts, and had one blouse that was even halfway clean. He walked to the mudroom, and dumped his pack on the counter beside the beast of all washing machines. He’d have to have a manual to operate the damned thing. He threw his BDUs in, and found a bin of gel pods and tossed one in. He repacked his non-clothing items, and went back to gather up the three boxes of things he’d rescued from his car. It was all that he’d kept of his father. The rest, he’d donated or stored. He had nothing of his own. He hadn’t bothered accumulating much in the last four years, just what he needed to get through from deployment to deployment. He’d left most of that life behind when he’d left base-housing with his personal effects.
He climbed the stairs, and paused at the landing. Skip had said the guest room was to the right. So, the master would be to the left. He walked down the landing to the room at the far end, and stopped cold. The guest room in this place was bigger than any bedroom he’d ever had. Heck, it was bigger than his parent’s room had been with the bathroom included. He set the box, and his lightened pack on the floor just inside the door. The problem in his shorts hadn’t subsided. It was Skip’s fault there was a problem.
He took off his jacket and his cover, and sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed to unlace his boots. Blouse, undershirt, and trousers hit the floor in a pile. He sat hoping the stiffness would go away. It didn’t. He needed a shower. Last shower he’d had, he’d jerked himself until he was shaking on the floor, and he still needed.
He found the bathroom. The room wasn’t huge, just large enough for a separate tub and shower and a toilet and sink. It wasn’t so large as to inspire awe. He heard water running, and realized the two bathrooms were connected. He heard a muffled groan. His dick responded. Chad pushed it down until it brushed his thigh. He could feel the warm, slick fluid leaking down his leg. Skip moaned again, this time louder, and Chad fled the bathroom to pace the bedroom.
His dick had done the thinking for him last night. He’d gotten a taste of cock. Taking it when it was offered, instead of pretending the opportunity wasn’t there. He didn’t knock on the door at the other end of the landing. He didn’t knock on the bathroom door. He didn’t stop walking until he stood in the shower in his shorts, chest to chest with the man he’d fantasized about most of his adult life. Skip didn’t look surprised. He released his cock, and slid his soapy hands over Chad’s chest, rubbing him in places that Chad didn’t know could feel pleasure. He smiled, and angled his face up to Chad’s. His green eyes turned dark, as he pushed Chad’s soaked shorts over his hips.
“I was hoping you’d come,” he whispered, just before he pulled Chad under the water with him. “I brushed my teeth. I want to kiss you. I would have in the kitchen, but I could still taste vomit. Not a good way to seduce a person, you know.”
> Chad shook his head. He didn’t know what seduction looked or felt like. “I’ve never tried to seduce anyone.”
Skip smiled and reached for the soap. He lathered his hands, and pushed Chad against the shower wall. “You did fine last night on the side of the road. I haven’t forgotten that. Or, that you didn’t get off after. I was going to punch your V card for you last night, and send you on your way.”
“Why didn’t you?” Chad lifted his arms for Skip to slick the bar of soap under his pits. He pulled at the hair there, and Chad had to fight a moan. “You didn’t get sick until later.”
Skip closed his eyes and leaned in. His mouth so close to Chad’s, he could taste the toothpaste that still lingered on his breath. “A long time ago, I fell in love, with a guy. I was a virgin. Naïve as hell, if you want to know the truth. He was older. Not much older, only six years, and he was married. They had two beautiful daughters. He used me. He used my innocence, and he used me for my money, and anything else he could get from me. I did things for that man I’ve never done with another lover. I let him hurt me. I let him damage me. When he left me, he ripped out my heart. I don’t want to be that man for you. I want you, so fucking much, but… you scare the hell out of me, Chad.”
Chad took the soap from him, and slicked it down his back and under his arms, dragging his hands over every inch of hard body, and into every crevice. “I’m a virgin, but I’m no innocent.”
Skip grabbed a handful of his hair, and glared at him. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He slammed his mouth to Chad’s. Hard. The force of the kiss, sucking the breath from his lungs. Chad turned them in the shower, and pushed Skip against the wall, as he opened his mouth for Skip to lick inside, and suck his tongue back into his mouth. With soapy hands, he slicked between Skip’s legs palming his balls, just to taste his groan. Skip released his hair, and slid his hands down Chad’s back to grip his ass cheeks. His feet parted, and Chad took advantage, and pressed his body to Skip’s, pinning him to the wall. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, erect cock to erect cock.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” He moaned into Chad’s mouth and rocked his hips, forcing the soap-slicked heat of his erection to glide along Chad’s groin, and belly, and over his cock, until Chad lost control, mimicking the movement. “That’s it, Chad, fuck me. Feels so good, baby,” Skip whispered, his eyes gone heavy-lidded as they rutted against each other. “Make me feel good, Chad. Harder.”
Chad growled in the man’s face, and slid his hands down to the backs of his thighs. He pulled them apart, and lifted the man up, until Chad and the wall supported his weight. He slammed into him, grinding his dick into the slick heat, feeling every slide of Skip’s cock against his own, all the way down to his toes. “Fuck me, Chad. God. Yes.” Skip cupped his face in his hands and held on, his breath coming in ragged bursts. His eyes rolled into the back of his head; his mouth hanging open as the moans stopped. His body shaking so hard Chad thought he’d killed him. The sharp sting of nails raking his shoulders and down his back, the only sign the man lived, and Chad died in his arms, pouring his heart and soul and life out onto the man’s stomach in the steaming hot water.
When he could think again, he was on his knees. Skip wrapped around him, stroking his back, and mumbling soft words that Chad didn’t understand. The bar of soap touched his knee, and Chad picked it up. There were places he’d missed. Skip laughed softly, his lips hovering over Chad’s mouth. He took the soap, and washed away round one. When round two shattered him into a thousand pieces, Skip picked him up off the floor, and dried his body… slowly, and put him to bed.
With the sun still high in the sky, and the weight of his lover hot against him, Chad slept.
Chapter Twelve
There was a naked Marine in his bed.
Skip tried not to think about waking up next to Chad. He tried not to think about going upstairs and climbing back under the blankets with him. He tried not to think about anything. He listened to the washer swish, and the dryer tumble, and the absolute sound of silence in the north woods in the middle of the night.
He loved this time of night, when there was only him awake in the world. His phone didn’t ring. No one came to the door. There was that one time with the bear, but he didn’t count that. The bear hadn’t been trying to sell him anything, or convert him to any god, or convince him to sell his property, or want to lease five acres to grow pot, or whatever the other bears would have tried the moment he came to the door.
The bear had been polite, and left his head attached to his body and had gone on about its business, probably as scared of Skip, as Skip had been of the bear. He loved the silence of the night. During the day, he’d turn on the stereo or the television for company, but at night he left the noisemakers off.
He folded Chad’s load of laundry, and placed them in a basket for him. He’d included his soaked shorts that he’d found on his shower floor, and the clothes he’d left in the guest room in with the first load of his own clothes.
But he’d left a naked twenty-three year-old Marine in his bed. Without studying the tattoo on his side. And that had taken some serious damned willpower.
He picked up his phone and checked the charge. It was late, but not so late that Brian would have gone to bed. He swiped across Brian’s name and hesitated. He had no idea where the husband would be, or what they’d be doing. He closed his phone; he didn’t want to interrupt his son’s happiness. He made a note to find out his new son-in-law’s name. He remembered being introduced. He also remembered thinking that he could ‘hit that’ given the right motivation. He’d gotten out of the house in record time, and couldn’t remember one damned thing about the introduction.
“Hey.” He heard the sleepy rumble of a voice, and turned to find a naked Marine leaning against the wall near his bank of double ovens. The man did wear skin so very well. “What time is it?”
“A little after midnight. I slept out. I didn’t want to wake you.” Skip tried not to look at the man. Tall, sandy-blond hair, cool, blue eyes, abs of steel, a tan line that fascinated the hell out of Skip, and the tattoos. And scars. One was a knife wound, looked like someone tried to gut him, but missed, and the knife slipped along the curve of his hip. He tried not to wonder about the pucker above the other hip that looked suspiciously like a bullet wound. It wasn’t his business. “Your clothes are clean, if you want to put on something.”
Chad followed his gaze to the basket with sleep-filled eyes. He blinked a couple of times and rubbed his nose. Skip tried so hard to keep his gaze on the beautiful face. He failed so very badly. He let his gaze caress the man, and the abs, and the tattoos, and the scars. His golden body pushing every single one of Skip’s buttons. The flaccid penis resting beside his thigh an indication of what it would be fully erect. As if Skip didn’t know. As if he hadn’t put his mouth on it. As if it hadn’t rubbed all over him. “I slept nearly twelve hours?”
“Looks like.” Skip jumped when the timer on the oven went off. He pulled out a pan of pot roast and all the trimmings that he’d been reheating, and set it on the island. “You hungry? I’m about to have breakfast.”
“Pot roast for breakfast,” Chad said, a shy smile spreading across his face. He didn’t make a move for his basket of clothing, and was distracting the hell out of Skip. “That’s new.”
“I wanted something hearty. I didn’t want to cook, and I didn’t want eggs. So I shoved one of Cat’s Sunday dinners in the oven.” He had no idea why he was explaining himself. He never explained himself. If he wanted pot roast at two in the morning, there was no one to care but the oven.
“Feeling better then?” Chad still didn’t move. He still didn’t put on clothes. He just stood there, looking sleepy and gorgeous, as if he was completely unaware of just how Skip’s blood was starting to boil, and… Hang it all. Skip gave up. He took the two long strides that put him right in front of the young man. The ice-blue eyes looking coolly up at him, as if Chad knew exactly what he was about to do. Skip s
kimmed his fingers over the man’s face, loving the feel of the blond scruff of a beard. He crowded him to the wall, and pressed his body flush against Chad’s. They’d fucked. There was no denying there wasn’t something there.
A smile quirked the corners of Chad’s lips as he gazed sleepily into Skip’s eyes. “I take that as a yes,” Chad whispered as he wrapped his arms around Skip’s waist and tugged him closer. “You look like you’ll live.”
Skip resisted the urge to kiss the insouciance off the man’s face. “You look like I’m not going to make my deadline.”
Chad laughed, the sound was almost self-conscious after the complete disregard of his own nudity. “I’m starving. You could feed me.”
“I could. Or…” Skip closed his mouth over Chad’s lips and coaxed a kiss out of him. Chad’s whole body seemed to melt against him, except the part of him that had, to this point, been uninterested in Skip’s proximity. That part of him pressed heavily into Skip’s thigh, threatening to rise to the occasion. Skip kicked Chad’s feet apart, and traced his hands down the man’s delectable body to cup him between his legs. “Or I could give this some attention.”
Chad made a gurgling noise in his throat that Skip took as permission. He kissed him one more time, teasing Chad’s tongue from his mouth to suck it into his own. He stroked the heated flesh hanging between them until it filled his hand like a silken-covered steel rod. He tried to stop the moan that stuck in his throat. He was supposed to be the one doing the seducing, but that would feel so good inside him.
Chad clenched his fingers into the soft flesh of Skip’s arms, his eyes wide and wild as Skip stroked him. He bit his lip when Skip let him go. Skip leaned in and tugged the lip between his own teeth and sucked it into his mouth.
“Gah,” Chad mumbled, his body shaking as he held perfectly still, and let Skip have his way. There was no going back now. They hadn’t gone as far as they could, but Skip wasn’t going to fight the attraction anymore. He could argue about age differences until he was blue in the face… or he could give the man what he wanted. Skip would get fucked. No hearts would be broken. It was just sex. Sex between two consenting adults. Never mind that one of the adults had changed the other’s diaper one time. Or that one day the roles could be reversed.
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