Noah had come a long, long way from shy and touch-starved to prepping himself and riding Slade.
Slade wrapped his fingers around Noah’s cock. Noah hissed out a breath. “Stroke me!”
And didn’t Noah saying what he wanted shove Slade toward the edge? He worked Noah, pushing up into Noah’s perfect body.
Oh damn, oh damn, oh, damn. Slade bowed upward, pulling Noah down into a kiss. “Oh, fuck!” He let go, tumbling over the edge.
Noah cried out, sprinkling droplets on Slade’s stomach. For a few moments, he stayed put, staring down at Slade while Slade stared back,thenNoahcollapsed onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes and laughing.
Slade rolled to his side, moving Noah’s arm to see his face. “What’s sofunny?”
“I can’t believe I did that.”
“Did what?”
“Did exactly what I wanted.”
“You’re allowed. As long as you’re not suggesting anything too weird, I’m on board. And bear in mind, I have a high threshold for weird.” Slade winked and brought his mouth down.
They skipped dinnerentirely.
Over the next few days, Noah began cooking burgers, steaks, and the best fried chicken Slade ever put in his mouth. No rabbit, though.
They settled into a routine, hiking in the day, eating meals together, Slade calling Judith to see if she’d gotten word on a pack. Then he went out for a few hours in the evening, returning to share a bed at night. Sometimes he and Noah had sex, other times they held each other, and there were nights when Noah explored Slade’s body, asking what certain tattoos meant.
Always, always, Noah needed touch. Poor guy, starved for attention all those years. He made no demands, dropping hints rather than asking. They’d have to work on communication. Noah should feel free to make his needs known.
Noah’s surprise took two weeks. Slade stood in the body shop, the completed project in his hands. He’d finished helmets quicker, painted some more elaborately—this one came out exactly as planned.
Slade turned off the video. He’d upload later. His last few videos got plenty of comments about the helmet and his new appearance.
“That’s a damned fine helmet,” Bill said, leaning against the counter, watching Slade pack away his equipment.
“This one’s special. For a friend.” Slade continued cleaning while they talked. Since he’d finished his masterpiece, he couldn’t wait for Noah to see.
“I’m sure he’ll love it.”
What? Oh, right. Bill watched the videos, had probably seen the pride flags Slade painted on a gas tank and the comments speculating about his sexuality.
His sexuality was no one's business but his own, so he'd never confirmed nor denied the speculations. “I hope so.” He paid Bill for using the space, loaded his equipment, and placed the helmet beside him on the passenger seat in his Durango. Noah never asked where Slade went in the evenings, though he must be curious. Maybe, like with the sex, he thought he didn’t have the right to ask.
They’d work on Noah feeling an equal partner in this relationship.
Relationship. Slade found himself in a relationship. Six weeks and counting. Not long by most people’s standards; probably a record for Slade.
His heart felt light on the way back to the cabin. His and Noah’s cabin.
For now.
He checked his phone as he sat in the yard for a few moments with the truck door open, listening to the night critters. He’d missed a call from Chuck.
Slade hit the redial button. Chuck answered on the first ring. “Hey, man, how’s Lisa and my nephew?”
“They’re doing good. Both are sleeping right now. I hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d check in.”
Damn. In Slade’s preoccupation with Noah, he’d neglected his brother. “Sorry. Got caught up, I reckon.”
Chuck let out a laugh. “Like I did when I met Lisa?”