by Ashton Cade
“The light,” he says, patting my thigh, looking out the windshield.
Duh.
His hand doesn’t leave my thigh. His fingers curl, then his palm slides up, inching higher.
In a town like Gateway, no one lives close. People come out to Alaska to have their own space—mainly from other people. My house is no exception. It never bothered me that it’s a ten-mile drive out.
Until tonight.
Now those ten miles feel like a hundred. Why the hell do I live so far out of town? And when is Jared going to stop teasing me? His hand is driving me crazy, so close and so far. Just another inch… Maybe if I just shifted in my seat…
Finally the turn off to my driveway is coming up, then there’s just a quarter mile of bumpy gravel to traverse. Jared’s hand slides home and I hiss, nearly taking the turn wide. I’m wound so tight, so ready for this. He flattens his palm and strokes me through my jeans, the rutted road making things interesting.
At this point, I’m not sure we’re going to make it inside before fucking in the truck. I know he said no hurry, but everything he’s doing says otherwise and I’m hanging on by a frayed thread.
I manage to get the truck safely parked, and Jared’s on me in an instant, kissing me again, this time moving across the cab.
“Let me go in and get everyone settled,” I say, forcing myself to break away from him, as hard as it is. “You know how it is,” I add, a sheepish smile to go with it. I’ve got a soft spot for animals, and a whole farmhouse full of them to prove it. As much as I want to rush in with him and go straight to bed, there are a few furry, feathered, and scaly critters that would have hell to raise about that.
He kind of laughs, a little exhale and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, need help?”
I give him a quick kiss, dragging my teeth over his bottom lip, my hand sliding onto his lap, over his bulge, stroking him with just my thumb until his breath is ragged.
“You just be ready,” I say, reaching for the door handle behind me.
I’m pretty sure I set a new record for getting all the critters fed and put to bed—or up for the day for the nocturnal guys. Winnie is very put out about me closing her out of the bedroom, but I quickly toss her a toy filled with peanut butter and she scampers off with her prize. I forget all about those sad puppy eyes when I see Jared waiting for me in nothing but his boxer shorts.
“Well that sure is a nice sight to walk into,” I say, already pulling my shirt off, eyes glued to the body I’ve only ever gotten glimpses of. Jared and I have worked out together a few times, but I’ve never let my gaze linger. Now I have a whole feast. There’s definitely a certain kind of cop that lets himself go after a number of years on the force; Jared’s not one of them. I have no idea where he put those five pounds he supposedly gained, unless it went right to those thick biceps.
“I figured full-on cock out would be a bit forward,” he laughs, sounding nervous now that we’re in my bedroom in varying stages of undress.
“I wouldn’t be mad at it,” I say, kicking my jeans aside. Now we’re both in just our underwear. The point of no return. “We really doing this?” I ask, heart in my throat. I don’t know what I’ll do if he backs out of it now. But I need to give him the chance for my own peace of mind.
Jared reaches behind him, on the nightstand he’s already located my supplies, a bottle of lube and a wrapped condom lying in wait.
“Unless you tell me otherwise,” he says, tearing the foil wrapper.
I swallow my nerves and cross the space between us, tugging his boxers down, finally getting my first good look at his cock. It doesn’t disappoint. How could it? It’s thick and hard and silky soft all at once. I look with my fingers as much as my eyes, and Jared’s half-frozen, watching transfixed as I stroke him, run my thumb through his precum and smear it around the glistening tip.
“Your turn,” Jared growls, his voice rough like I’ve never heard as he yanks on my boxer briefs. It takes more work than that to get out of them, and he’s like a caveman grunting at the fabric that’s preventing his access to me.
His hand on me skin-to-skin is electric. My brain fuzzes out for a minute and the only singular thought in my head is “More.” The word comes out in a whisper the same time it floats to the surface of my mind and Jared’s fingers tighten.
“Bed,” he answers, pushing me back. I tumble on the mattress with a bounce, then immediately scoot myself into position, skin flushed, air thick with our combined need.
There’s no room for words; we’re both reduced to animal-like grunts and groans, first as he works lube into my tight ass, and then when he starts inching his big dick into me.
He’s slow at first, giving me time to adjust, letting my neglected body open up and relax, and once I do—holy shit.
I know it’s been a while for me, but it feels like his cock was made for me. What seemed big at first is stretching me in all the right ways, filling me and pressing buttons inside my body that have only been lightly tapped at best in the past.
He knows it too. Jared’s eyes lock with mine, and even though neither one of us says anything, he fucks me hard and deep, and there’s no doubt he knows just what he’s doing to me. My body tightens around him, I clutch at the bedsheets, just a little bit…
“Roll over,” he says, pulling out, smacking the side of my hip lightly. I feel like I just got tossed off a runaway merry-go-round, and I’m dizzy and confused for a second until my blood returns to my brain and I manage to follow what he wants.
Not fast enough, clearly, because he’s shifting my hips before I’m even fully on my knees.
And then Jared’s sliding into me again, deeper than before, pressing his body into mine. He grinds in deep and my jaw goes slack, eruptions of stars happening behind my eyes. Deeper and deeper, he uses the angle from this position to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked, and that’s saying something.
I forget where I am. I forget who I am. I don’t know how much time passes or if I’ll ever feel anything other than this agonizing pleasure, teetering on the knife’s edge of ecstasy.
Then, all at once, it crashes into me, the orgasm of a century, my hips thrashing on their own, grinding into the pillow propping them up. Jared’s fingers tighten on my hips and I realize I’m groaning, my voice filling the room.
“Fuck,” Jared finally cries, buried to the hilt, clutching me for dear life. His body twitches and jerks, and then he relaxes, slowly pulls away, and flops beside me.
“Fuck,” I echo, heaving a big, satisfied sigh.
That was perfect. Everything I needed and so much more than I expected. The best part about it is that it’ll probably never happen again.
Too much trouble, relationships.
Besides, this kind of fucking should keep me going for a while.
Chapter 1
Jared
It’s my first day off in over a week, and I’m on the hook for helping Eli and Caleb with their new integrated security system.
I don’t mind too terribly much. They’re friends, and friends help each other out, especially up here. You never know when you might need a friend in a place like Gateway. Sure, it would be nice to have a day without plans, a day to ride my bike out into the country without a destination in mind or an appointment to be at. But today’s not that day.
Beats sitting around at my apartment by any rate. That place is a dump and I’m happy for any excuse to be somewhere else.
It’s a pretty autumn day, the sky painted solid blue, just enough chill in the air to make it sparkle in the early sun. A perfect day for a ride, and The Wilds is probably a half an hour away from my place, so I zip up my leather jacket, pop on my helmet, and settle in for a nice drive.
It’s not often I get to see the town from this side. Normally I’m in a cruiser, a few tons of machinery between me and the road. There’s nothing quite like being on a motorcycle though. Even if I only get to ride it a few months out of the year here. Pretty soon there’ll be too much risk of i
cy roads to bring it out, so I’m going to squeeze out every minute I can until then.
Of course one of the best things about riding is the freedom to think. Anytime in life I’ve found myself not knowing what to do, not knowing what path to take, a good long ride has sorted it out for me.
Too bad I’m not in the mood for thinking today.
Thinking the past few days just keeps bringing me back to the same thing: Hunter.
We haven’t talked since the night we left Holly’s together. It’s not all that unusual for us to go stretches like this without talking, but it feels weirder this time, all things considered. I know it’s a two-way street. I could call him or text or something just as easily as he could reach out to me, but I don’t really know what to say.
We went in to have a good time and we did. In fact, we had a fucking amazing time—or an amazing time fucking—but what does that mean? Besides, so what if neither one of us does much more than one-night stands, I really wanna do that with him again.
How do I bring that up without making it weird?
“Friends with benefits” is a thing, right?
But he’s not just any friend. Hunter’s my best friend. In the world. I don’t want to screw that up. I can’t. The longer we’re both quiet about it, the weirder it’s going to be.
Maybe I’ll try to hang out with him when I’m done here. I can’t stop thinking about him—not that that’s anything new.
Hunter’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We’ve had lulls in our friendship, like when I went into the Navy, but it’s the kind of relationship where we always just pick up where we left off, like there was no time missing at all, even if it’s been years.
I’ve always thought he’d be fun to fool around with, but I know us. Neither one of us wants to be tied down into something serious and it always seemed like a line I shouldn’t cross. But that night at Holly’s, I could tell he’s going through something, and I wanted to try to help, be there for him, as weird as that sounds. Hunter needed a reminder about who he is, and a night of no-strings attached dancing, drinking, and fucking was just what the doctor ordered.
I think.
Hard to say since we haven’t actually spoken since then, but he didn’t seem to have any regrets that night. I stayed over, we had coffee, I went home to get ready for work, it was totally normal.
But now it’s been more than a week and it’s starting to feel less normal.
Damn this drive. I really didn’t want to think about all this.
I try to focus on the view instead. The trees, still lush, evergreen, the mountains, frosty and white with snow that hasn’t quite made it down to our level yet. I focus on the places the cold seeps in through the cracks between my jacket and gloves, the back of my neck between my helmet and collar. I think about anything at all in the moment to not think about how I might have screwed up my best friendship, especially on a day when I’m reminded how important having good friends are.
When I pull up to the main house at The Wilds ranch, Eli, Caleb, and his daughter Nina are coming in from the woods, fishing poles slung over their shoulders, a tackle box in Eli’s hands.
“Hi!” Nina says with a big wave once my helmet’s off.
“Hey.” I wave back.
“Good timing,” Caleb says, handing his pole off to his brother. “Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve got set up so far and you can tell me what you think.”
“Sure,” I agree, following him inside. I’m not really the best security expert, but I’m probably the best he’s going to find in Gateway. Most of their problems have gone away with the conviction last year. Of course I don’t blame Caleb for being extra cautious after what he and his family went through.
He leads me inside and we hang up our jackets before heading upstairs to a home office. While Caleb’s signing into his computer, I can hear Nina and Eli come in, Nina excitedly asking to play.
“So we’ve got these motion-activated ones out here, they can be manually flipped on, too, all a live feed, obviously. These ones are infrared, probably overkill, but they’re pointed at the cabins, so we can quickly see if there are any squatters, vandals, or fires. Over here we have…”
I kind of tune him out but it’s a very impressive set up for this kind of operation. I don’t think Caleb needs my input at all here, I think he just wants some reassurance.
“Everything looks really good from what I can see from a surveillance standpoint. What have you got for actually detecting potential intruders? IR? Microwave?”
“A little of everything,” Caleb says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I went a little overboard. But we have a few more magnetic switches and glass-break detectors to install around the main house here, and I thought you might have some idea where they’d best serve us.”
“Yeah of course. Let’s take a look.”
He gives me a quick tour of the upstairs, but all the windows up here are well monitored. I can hear Nina and her uncle playing downstairs long before we actually get to the stairs. I hear Tanner too, back from whatever chore he was probably doing. Work never really stops at a place like this.
Then I hear Hunter’s voice and nearly fall down the last two steps.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Tanner asks, leaning in to give Caleb a quick kiss.
“We’re just doing a final walk-through to see what I missed,” he says, smiling at Tanner like he’s the only person in the world. “What’re you two up to?”
“There were some dodgy looking limbs that were going to come down in bad places the first heavy snow. Hunter’s way better with a chainsaw than I am, and you should see him climb a tree. Like a monkey,” Tanner laughs, elbowing Hunter.
“Can’t believe you’re letting a guy three years older than you show you up,” Hunter teases back. “Thought you kids were supposed to keep us in check.”
He hasn’t looked at me. Not directly at least. I feel his gaze sliding sideways, but before I have a chance to figure out what to say, Caleb taps me on the arm.
“Come on, let’s look at the house from outside. I wanna be done before the daylight’s gone.”
Whatever I was going to say never materializes. I give Hunter a look, and I’m not even sure what that says, before I follow Caleb outside.
We pace the perimeter of the house, me checking every entry a burglar or vandal could use, but Caleb’s been thorough.
“What about that?” I ask, pointing at a tiny window at ground level. There’s algae around the edges, and it blends in pretty well with the plants around the side of the house, but an experienced ne’er-do-well will spot it right away. “Basement?”
“Crawlspace,” he says, making a face.
“Does it have interior access?”
He sighs. “Yeah, I don’t know how I missed that.”
I frown, crouching down. “This window doesn’t open, does it?”
Caleb shakes his head.
“Magnetic switch won’t do any good then, you need to put a glass-break sensor on the inside.”
He sighs again, eying the green-tinted window.
“Not a fan of crawl spaces?” I ask, chuckling.
“Is it that obvious?” he laughs.
“You’ve done a billion others, let me install this one,” I offer, even though I’m not a huge fan of the tight, dank spaces either.
What’re friends for?
“You’re a saint,” he gushes, obviously exaggerating. We’re still chuckling as we head back inside, then I remember Hunter because he’s right in front of me again.
“All done?” Tanner asks, oblivious.
“I’m being banished to the basement—”
“You volunteered,” Caleb protests, digging through a box stuffed in the corner of his den. “Here’s the sensor… Do you want gloves or something? There’s probably spiders down there.”
I snort. “I’ve handled worse.”
I feel Hunter’s eyes on me, and it reminds me that I’ve handled much better. But now�
��s not the time to let my mind wander, no matter how tempting or fraught the topic. Hopefully he sticks around long enough that we can talk when I’m done with this.
“Point me to the stairs.”
“About that…” Caleb says, leading me into the old kitchen, through the walk-in pantry. There’s a patch of floor that’s discolored, and a shiny new latch that wouldn’t hold up to someone who really wanted to get through. “Didn’t want Nina falling in the pit,” he explains as he opens it.
There’s maybe three and a half, four feet of clearance tops. I drop down and I’m still head and shoulders above the trap door. The ground is solid earth here, an old-fashioned root cellar with the unlikely addition of a window. I’m not going to try to figure out what the house builders were thinking, I’m here for one thing. I hunch down before deciding I’m going to have to actually crawl.
The spiders don’t bother me much, but the thick, musty air isn’t great for my lungs. I’ve already been having trouble breathing at home with the condition of the place, but I didn’t even think about that before jumping down here to help Caleb out. The smell of damp is even stronger by the window, and I work fast to get the sensor installed. It’s pre-programed to sync up with the rest of the house, and efficient enough to run on the internal battery for years. It’s a pretty easy job all told, but by the time I’m turning around to make the return crawl, it feels like someone’s sitting on my chest.
The further I go, the harder it is to get air. Someone’s stuck their thumb over the end of my snorkel and no matter how hard I suck, I’m not getting the breath I need.
Just a little further. I focus on the light coming in from the trap door, the thought of sticking my head through that opening and taking a big deep breath. My chest gets tighter and tighter, and my head’s light and wobbly by the time I get to the door.
“Damn, you work fast,” Caleb says, looking down from above.
I can’t say anything back. Talking would take too much effort. All that effort is focused on getting air into my lungs, past my constricted airways.
Slowly, somehow, I manage to stand, but that deep breath I promised myself doesn’t come.
