It kept coming back to Carter’s mom, didn’t it? She was the elephant in the room.
Well, I wasn’t about to let her walk all over him. I planned to take my developing role as protective, devoted boyfriend very seriously.
“I don’t think you’re especially hard to love,” I said. “No more than anyone else.”
Carter looked at me, the light of the fire dancing in his uncertain eyes. He drew a breath to speak, but then clearly though better of it and turned back to look at the fire.
“My turn?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Knock yourself out.”
“Kieran said you had a crush on me in high school,” Carter said. “Is that, umm.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Did you?”
Shit.
Shit.
I’d been afraid of what he might have said to Carter, and now I knew.
The thing was, he clearly hadn’t meant any harm by it. What teenager didn’t have an embarrassing crush or two in their closet?
Except mine was still going strong, and Carter was sitting here with a head full of questions about his sexuality.
I’d set up the rule where I could just not answer instead of lying to him, and I should have stuck with it, but how would he take me refusing to answer?
There were only two options—either he’d think I did have a crush on him and he’d been uncomfortable, or he’d think I didn’t and wonder why the hell not.
And he already felt unlovable. I didn’t want to make that worse.
“I think we should head to bed,” I said. The coward’s way out, avoiding the question entirely. “We’re not gonna get any warmer than we are now, and if we grab an extra blanket we should be toasty all night.”
“Sure,” Carter said after a beat too long. He was disappointed, but I wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to hear. I wasn’t sure he’d thought the question all the way through.
For a smart guy, his forward-planning skills left a lot to be desired.
“Yeah, let’s go to bed,” he said, standing and offering me a hand up. I took it, rising to my feet and stretching my arms high above my head, yawning widely.
I was tired. Honestly. With any luck, Carter would see that and not think any further about my pathetic non-answer to his question.
Kieran was getting an ass-kicking when I got home.
9
Carter
The problem, essentially, with going to bed curled up with Aiden for warmth was that I’d also woken up curled up with Aiden.
And I was rock fucking hard.
It was a totally normal reaction to sleeping next to a warm body. I knew it, and I knew Aiden would know it, and maybe I didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about.
That was not stopping the embarrassment, though. Not least of all because I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just about the warmth.
It was about the body.
Aiden’s body, specifically, which included Aiden’s lips. Lips I could still feel pressed against mine if I closed my eyes for a second, gloved fingers scraping over my stubble.
I could still remember the flood of warmth south, the taste of his mouth, the scent of his aftershave. Things I hadn’t even realized could be a turn-on for me before that’d all happened at once, for a shining moment where I’d been too worried about what was happening to really enjoy it.
But my stupid asshole brain had saved every little detail for me so I could replay it again and again and think about how nice it would have been if not for the circumstances.
All of which was terrifying.
As carefully as I could, I eased myself away from Aiden, making sure to tuck the blankets around him as I rolled out of the bed. I’d expected the floorboards to be cold, but the heating must’ve come back on in the night.
Aiden made a soft, sad sound as I left, reaching out for the personal human-sized hot water bottle he’d just lost in his sleep, but not quite waking.
I slipped into the bathroom, desperate to have a door between us, and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as it swung shut.
Shower. I could take a shower, and that’d give me plenty of time to get a grip on myself.
The pressure was incredible and the hot water was instant, which felt like a small miracle in a place like this, with snow piled up three inches along the bottom ledge of the high bathroom window.
I peeled off the t-shirt I’d slept in and my underwear, wondered what the hell to do with them, and then decided that was a problem better dealt with when I had a clearer head. Right now, it felt like it was full of feathers.
A happy sigh escaped me as I stepped under the spray, hot water driving away the chill of the air. By the time I got back out, the cabin would probably be warm again anyway.
My dick was still hard. I’d figured if I ignored it, it’d go away—usually did—but apparently things couldn’t be that easy.
The warmth of Aiden’s body curled up against mine came back to me as though he was right here with me, pressed close so we were skin to skin, the sweet, bright scent of his hair filling the room.
Dammit.
Okay. Okay, fine. I was alone, no one ever had to know what was going through my head just now.
I took a deep breath, hissing as I curled my fingers around my cock without preamble. No teasing, no taking my time. Get off and get over it.
My teeth dug into my lower lip as I made one last attempt to think of anything else, but all my brain would give me was Aiden. Aiden smiling at me, eyes sparkling, like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen.
Aiden standing so close to me I could feel the heat of his body through my coat. Aiden all dressed up, for me, trying his best to fit into my world without losing who he was.
Aiden kissing me, soft and sweet, my stomach swooping and my head pounding as I breathed him in.
Aiden walking in on me right now. My breath hitched at the thought, so real I could almost hear the door hinges squeaking as it swung open. I could picture his eyes widening, surprised at first, and then glittering as he looked at me, hunger burning in them as he licked his lips.
He’d smile at me. Aiden always had a smile for people, especially me, and he’d have one now, warm and excited. Laughter as he let his underwear fall to the floor and surged forward, crossing the threshold into the shower, pushing my back against the tiles.
Hot, needy kisses—with tongue, and I wouldn’t even have to ask. Aiden would know. He’d laugh into my mouth and purr that it was okay, that he knew, that he understood and he was going to explain everything to me.
A hiss escaped me as I hit the shower tiles in the real world, cold against my water-warmed back, a shiver of need rolling through me at the thought of Aiden’s body pinning me there, hot mouth exploring my neck, hands roaming over my skin.
He wanted me. In my head, he wanted me, more than I’d ever been wanted before. He touched like it was the best thing that’d ever happened to him, with awe and pleasure, laughing and giggling as he came to my cock, wrapping his fingers around it.
Another gasp escaped me, hand barely covering my mouth in time to stifle a moan. As fantasies went, I hadn’t had one I’d gotten this into in a long time.
My cock throbbed in my hand as I imagined Aiden doing this for me, clever, practiced fingers touching everywhere I liked and a few places I didn’t know about yet, experience that dwarfed my own coming out to shine. He wouldn’t be afraid to touch me, hands and mouth all over me, hard cock nudging my belly as he kissed me again, grinding against me, slow and easy like we had all the time in the world.
Heat pooled in the pit of my stomach, trickling down to my oversensitive cock like sand in an hourglass, a spike of pain from my bitten lip pushing me right up against the edge, one foot over, ready to crash down.
It’s okay, the Aiden in my mind whispered into my ear, breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. I want you to come.
The whole mountain under me seemed to lurch as I came, one hand pressed to the shower doo
r to brace myself against the force of it, toes curling so hard my left foot cramped.
Blood pounded in my ears as wave after wave of my orgasm hit, belly tight, thighs trembling with the effort of staying upright while what was left of my brains spilled out of my cock, coating the back of my hand and dripping down to the shower floor.
In my head, Aiden kissed me again, coaxing me through it, one hand on my cock and the other on my ass, teeth digging into my lip, a pleased hum rumbling in the back of his throat.
How was he so hot?
I felt hollowed out when I was finally done, forehead pressed against the shower tiles, lungs burning for air.
Fuck.
Holy fuck.
I hadn’t come that hard since I was a teenager. Even then, I wasn’t sure I’d been capable of coming that long.
A soft, spent groan scraped along the back of my throat as I came down, too late to stifle it. Hopefully, Aiden was still fast asleep.
The last thing I needed was to step out of the bathroom and find him peering at me from the bed, eyes knowing, lips curved into a sly little smile.
A throb of lust hit me deep in the pit of my stomach at the thought. If I hadn’t just come, that would have been enough to make me come all over again.
Rationally, I didn’t want Aiden to catch me, but a tiny part of me wondered what it might be like.
Once I caught my breath, I got on with my shower, a little thrill of want hitting me as I poured shampoo in my palm, remembering what Aiden had said about my hair.
My stupid asshole brain treated me to a full surround-sound short film of Aiden running his fingers through it, grinning at me, whole face shining with approval.
I shut off the shower and toweled my hair dry, watching in the mirror as the ends curled up all by themselves. It wasn’t curly, exactly, but there was enough curl to it to give it some texture. My sister had gorgeous dark waves my mother loved.
Until this morning, I hadn’t spent a single second of my life caring about my hair except when it grew long enough to annoy me into getting it cut.
Tucking the towel around my waist and wishing I’d had the foresight to bring some clothes into the bathroom, I slipped back into the bedroom as quietly as I could, not wanting to disturb Aiden.
A flash of going over to the bed and kissing him good morning played through my mind, and I pushed it away like it’d been burned. Where the hell had that come from?
What if Aiden knew what I was thinking just by looking at me?
When I glanced over at the bed, horrified by the thought that maybe he’d know, it was empty.
What the hell?
10
Aiden
The tip of my nose was red by the time I’d made the four-second walk from the cabin to the car, but I was grateful for the cold.
I’d had all night to snuggle up to Carter, and I’d coped with it about as well as I expected to.
Which was to say, not well at all.
If I closed my eyes I could still feel him pressed up against me, the two of us huddling for warmth in our own little cocoon, so much like something out of one of my teenage fantasies that I was still sitting in the car two full minutes later, thinking about it.
I shoved the keys in the ignition and turned the engine over to let it warm up.
Should’ve left a note for Carter. He’d wonder where the hell I was when he got out of the bathroom.
I pulled out my phone, sending him a quick text to promise that I was bringing back breakfast. There was a coffee maker in the cabin, but it wasn’t quite the same as coffee in a takeout cup, fresh from a little bakery. I’d seen one that made my heart sing in town, warm glow and glistening pastries in the window as we drove past, and I was determined to drop in before we left.
All I needed was fifteen minutes away from him to gather my thoughts. Pull myself together. Quell the urge to pounce on him and promise him it’d all make sense after, he’d feel better if he just let himself have what he wanted.
Not me, exactly, but I was convinced now that Carter wanted to try his hand with men. Even if he wouldn’t have known how to say it, or how to ask for it.
I got out my phone again once I was in town, parked a half-block away from the bakery and grateful for the walk.
So I spent all of last night curled up against Carter and it was as magical as I imagined
Morgan: did you have sex
I snorted. Trust Morgan to get straight to the point.
No. I wish.
Morgan: can’t believe you texted me at seven am to tell me you didn’t get laid last night
You’ve been up for hours, you can handle it
Morgan was already halfway through his day when I opened at ten. Flower deliveries came at the ass crack of dawn two or three days a week, so he was up early every morning to keep a regular sleep schedule.
I’d heard of those. They sounded fake.
I tended to be… twenty minutes into my day, or so, when I got to work. My morning routine usually involved rolling out of bed, putting on whatever was acceptably clean, and grabbing a coffee on my way past the shop on the corner. One for Morgan, too.
Apparently, sleeping next to Carter had turned me into an early riser.
I mumbled my way through an order and probably left the pretty barista thinking I was an idiot, but I walked away with pastries and coffee, so I was more than ready to call my trip a success.
Carter was sitting on the edge of the bed when I got back, staring out the window at the few flakes of snow falling outside.
His whole face lit up when he looked at me, and my heart almost gave up on keeping me alive to leap out of my chest and run over to him.
“I was starting to wonder where the hell you were,” he said.
“You didn’t check your phone?”
The look on his face turned sheepish, and I watched him scramble for his phone on his side of the bed, lips pursed as he saw my text.
“Thought maybe you’d abandoned me at the first chance,” he said, and it was delivered like a joke, but I could hear the real worry hidden under it.
Carter had thought that maybe I would abandon him.
“And miss out on all the fun?” I asked, passing him a cup of coffee. “Two sugars.”
“You remembered,” he marveled as he accepted the cup, wrapping both hands around it.
“It’s not a whole lot to remember.” I shrugged, presenting the box with two perfect, golden-brown, breakfast-sized tarts complete with adorable pastry maple leaves in the center. “Tarte au sucre,” I said, thrilled with myself for getting my tongue around the Rs.
“For breakfast?” Carter asked, raising an eyebrow. All the same, his eyes lit up at the sight of the tarts, nostrils flaring the tiniest bit as he inhaled the tempting scent of butter and maple syrup, the two primary ingredients as far as I could tell.
“I’d pretend this is a sneaky treat while we’re on vacation, but I’m a big believer in pastries for breakfast. They’ve got all the major food groups.”
Carter looked up at me, skeptical.
“Fat and sugar,” I said, grinning broadly. “Probably some protein from the eggs and cream. Perfectly nutritionally complete.”
Carter wet his lips, hesitated, looked down at the tarts again, presented in their cute little box, and took one like a kid who was only allowed one cookie a week and whose mother stood over him while he brushed his teeth after.
… come to think, that might’ve been exactly what his childhood was like.
“These smell incredible,” he said, holding the tart up to eye level and licking his lips again.
I wanted to watch him eat this tart more than I wanted air right now. The mattress creaked as I sat down next to him, pastry box between us, tucking my own coffee between my knees.
Blood pounded in my ears as Carter’s tongue darted out again, pink and perfect, lifting a few crystals of sugar off the crust before disappearing behind his lips. The softest little satisfied exhale made my insides squir
m, and I couldn’t look away as his mouth opened, pretty lips parting to take a bite, eyes closing as the sweet filling hit his tongue, a soft hum vibrating in his throat.
Not only was I staring, I was a little short of breath.
I looked away in a hurry, focusing on my own tart, shoving a full quarter of it in my mouth to stop myself saying anything stupid.
Like asking if I could lick his fingers clean for him.
“This is incredible,” Carter said between bites. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I managed to grit out past the lump in my throat, proud of myself for not sounding like I was dying of unfulfilled lust.
I watched him take another bite, still transfixed, and then forced myself to look away again, alternating between sips of coffee and bites of tart like the single most erotic thing I’d ever seen wasn’t happening ten inches away from me.
“So uh. What’s on the schedule for today?”
Carter chuckled, licking crumbs and sugar off his perfect lips, flushed and glossy from the sugar and butter.
I hoped he liked those tarts, because I was tempted to bring him one every morning now.
“Do you know there’s an actual schedule?” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand now that he was finished. “I have a printed copy.”
“Sounds like one of your mom’s ideas,” I said.
“Wow, how could you possibly have guessed that?” Carter turned to me, smiling wryly. But it was a warm smile, the kind that made his eyes sparkle.
I should’ve asked him about them last night, although what would I ask? How come your eyes are so pretty and can I stare into them for, like, an hour?
“Actually, while I was out a talking crow swooped down and told me a prophecy,” I joked.
Carter laughed, real laughter, and I wanted to bottle that sound and keep it for when I needed a pick-me-up. Forget drugs, forget meditation, forget long walks in the woods.
I just wanted to listen to Carter laugh.
Spending more time with him, one-on-one no less, was making me realize that fifteen-year-old Aiden had incredible taste in men.
Troublemaker (Goode Boys Book 1) Page 6