Finally devoid of clothing, Mitchell took his hand and led him the few steps to the bed. He pulled the quilt back and slid in, on his back, showing Craig how hard he was for him. His beautiful cock jutted up, bouncing as he moved, and Craig wanted to bury his face at the junction of Mitchell’s hips and lick his way to those heavy balls hanging down.
He groaned as Mitchell took himself into his own hand and languidly stroked.
“You’re so beautiful,” Craig murmured, “but we need to talk first.”
Mitchell stared up at him, his hand stilling. “Now?”
Craig took a step back, trying to keep himself from throwing himself on top of Mitchell. “We never really decided things and you’ve seemed… quiet… this afternoon.”
Mitchell nodded, patted the space next to him on the bed.
Craig couldn’t say no. He didn’t have it in him. He moved quickly, lying down next to him, Mitchell sliding over a little.
“I’m torn, Craig. I need to talk to my sister. I don’t want to let her down. But I… want to be with you.”
Craig nuzzled Mitchell’s neck and breathed him in. God he loved his scent. Musky but sweet. “If you won’t come to California, are you willing to do the long-distance thing?” he asked hopefully.
“God, yes.”
Happy with that for the moment but knowing he wasn’t going to give up trying to convince Mitchell to move with him, he gave in to his desires. Craig licked Mitchell’s neck and reached down to stroke him, pushing his hand away. When he wrapped his hand around Mitchell’s cock, Mitchell rolled his hips and moaned low.
“Do you like when I touch you, Mitchell?” he breathed out.
Mitchell moaned as Craig swiped his thumb across his slit.
“Now, I thought all you writers knew how to use their words,” he teased.
“Not when your hand is on my dick,” Mitchell whispered low. “All I can do is feel.”
Craig found that hot as fuck and let go of his dick, sliding his hand down to fondle his balls, rolling them gently. “In case you haven’t noticed, Mitchell, I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.” He licked a nipple, already pebbled, and grinned when Mitchell gasped. “I guess I can’t keep my tongue to myself either,” he added, kissing his way down Mitchell’s chest.
But Mitchell’s hand cupped his neck and pulled him up. “Kiss me,” he whispered.
Craig braced his elbows on either side of Mitchell and took in the sight. Mitchell’s skin was flushed, his hair messy, and his pupils blown. He was fucking gorgeous. He pressed his lips to Mitchell’s gently, softly. Mitchell opened his mouth, welcoming Craig in, and he wasted no time in sweeping in, tasting him. He was like nectar, a sweet honey he needed in order to breathe. How had he gone so long without making Mitchell his?
Craig ached to be inside Mitchell, to bury himself so deep they were as one. But it wasn’t the time. When they finally were together, it would be gentle and loving, not in a loft above a sleeping friend.
So he pressed down, letting his body weight cover Mitchell. They kissed as they moved together, chest to chest, hip to hip, rubbing together as they thrust against each other. Their moans soon filled the room. Movement became frenzied as they chased their orgasms.
Mitchell spilled first and the warm, wet stickiness between them sent Craig over the edge. He closed his eyes as he gave in to the swirls of sensation, the waves of pleasure rolling through him, and he cried out Mitchell’s name.
They wiped themselves off and slept, sated, arms and legs tangled. The last thought on Craig’s mind was that there was no way he was letting Mitchell go without a fight.
THE AROMA of fresh coffee drifted up to the loft and Craig’s eyelids fluttered open. He was flat on his back, staring up at the wooden beams in the loft. Mitchell was stretched out next to him, his arm thrown across Craig’s chest, his head resting on Craig’s shoulder.
The sound of movement came from downstairs, and he knew Adam was getting ready to leave, so he kissed the top of Mitchell’s head and breathed in deeply. The scent of Mitchell’s shampoo mixed with the coffee brewing below caused Craig’s chest to rise, filling with happiness. This was how it should be—waking up with Mitchell in his arms every morning.
“Hey,” he whispered with a nudge. “We need to get up. Adam’s leaving, remember?”
Mitchell snuggled in deeper and moaned in protest. If Craig had had his way, he would have agreed with him and gone back to sleep. But they needed to say goodbye to Adam.
Craig finally roused him, and they hastily pulled on some clothes and padded barefoot downstairs, taking turns in the bathroom.
Adam was packed and drinking coffee when they joined him at the kitchenette. He handed them full mugs and Craig drank it gratefully.
“You want something to eat before you go? You guys stocked up pretty well the other night.” Mitchell opened the pantry door and laughed when he pulled out an empty box of Twinkies. “Seriously, guys? I didn’t even have one!”
Adam grinned. “I raided the food the last two nights.”
Craig laughed. “I don’t know how you stay so thin. You eat more than anyone else I know.”
“High metabolism.”
Mitchell pulled out a box of Honey Buns. “There are two left. You want one?” he offered to Adam.
“Nah, I’ll grab something from McDonald’s on the way out of Branson.” He frowned. “Man, I can’t believe you guys are both moving. It’s not going to be the same without you two around Kansas City.” He opened his arms. Mitchell walked into them, and they hugged for a minute.
Craig cleared his throat, irritated at the jealousy that popped up. He wasn’t used to feeling it and wasn’t sure what to do with it. But Adam finally let go of Mitchell, grabbed Craig, and pulled him in for another hug.
A few minutes later, Adam was out the door and on the road.
“So, what do you want to do today? The water park?” Mitchell asked, grabbing one of the Honey Buns.
Craig was suddenly very aware they were alone in the cabin. And he didn’t know what to say because he wanted to beg Mitchell to make a decision. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m… going to take a quick shower. You decide what we’ll do.”
Mitchell furrowed his brow as he watched him, but Craig hightailed it to the bathroom and clicked the door behind him.
Fuck. What was wrong with him? He just needed to tell Mitchell how he felt. It was time. Why was he so afraid? No, he knew why he was afraid. Mitchell could still break his heart—he might not want to go to California with him.
He rushed through the shower and found the main floor empty.
“Mitchell?” he called.
Then he glanced outside and saw him talking on his phone. His eyes were narrowed and his fingers rubbed one of his temples. He didn’t look happy at all.
Craig poured another cup of coffee and settled in on the sofa, waiting for Mitchell to come back inside. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. He’d circled back to the first channel by the time Mitchell stepped back inside.
“Everything okay?”
Mitchell glanced at him but didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah. Just…. Adam asking if he left a hoodie.”
Craig looked around, even as he was sure Mitchell was lying to him. “I don’t see it.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I told him. So, I’m going to take a shower before we head out.”
“What’s the plan?”
“How about White Water?”
“Sounds good. I’ll change into my suit.”
Craig wasn’t sure why, but he was certain Mitchell was holding something back. But he wouldn’t push. He knew Mitchell well enough to know that he would tell him when he was ready.
Things were a little tense between them in the car, but by the time they were riding down the Pipeline Plunge, a twisting waterslide, things were better.
They spent the day laughing, riding down the slides, hanging out in the huge Surf’s Up Wave Pool, and then relaxing in the
Aloha River at Hula Hula Bay, a Polynesian-themed ride that carried them through calm waters.
They had slathered on sunscreen, but the hot sun was still beating down on them, and when Mitchell mentioned he was feeling a little “toasty,” they packed up and left the park.
Watching Mitchell all day without a shirt on had been a sweet torture. It was a family friendly park, so he held back from pulling him into his arms and ravaging him, but they had held hands as they floated in their inner tubes, and kissed once at the pool.
As they made their way to the parking lot, their fingers twined and Craig knew he had to tell him how he truly felt tonight.
“How about we grill up some steaks and eat outside?”
“Sounds good. Didn’t you guys get potato salad from the store?”
Craig nodded. “And, if Adam didn’t eat it all, there’s cheesecake in the freezer.”
Mitchell’s eyes lit up at the announcement of his favorite dessert. “You didn’t tell me there was cheesecake!”
Craig chuckled. “If I had, it would already be gone, and you know it.”
The drive to the cabin wasn’t long, but the sun was beginning to set behind the trees when they pulled up. Craig turned off the engine and sat there in the car for a moment.
“What’s going on?”
He breathed in deep and held it for a minute before letting it out gradually and turning to look at Mitchell. “We need to talk.” His voice was loud in the quiet car.
Mitchell swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then nodded. “Yeah. But can we talk later? During dinner? After dinner?”
Craig’s belly twisted. Mitchell wanted to put off talking, which could mean bad news. Maybe he’d decided to stick with West Virginia. Craig nodded. “Okay, Mitchell. It can wait until later.”
His heart was heavy as his friend—lover—climbed out of the car and entered the cabin.
Pull yourself together. It’s time to lay it all on the line. Determined he could prove to Mitchell he was the man for him, Craig felt a shift in his confidence and he hurried inside. He wanted to get started on those steaks.
Chapter Thirteen
Mitch
MITCH COULDN’T quit fidgeting on the bench. He knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to let Craig know about the call he’d received.
He took a drink of his beer and glanced across the picnic table at Craig. When Craig winked at him, his cheeks heated up. Craig had been acting strange all evening. Flirty. It was nice, but he knew it was all going to change when Mitch spilled his news.
He was surprised just how much he’d enjoyed sitting outside, eating at an old picnic table, but it was incredibly peaceful.
“All these years, I never knew you could grill out. The steak is incredible.”
Craig grinned. “My dad taught me when I was a kid. We used to grill out most weekends. Steak, burgers, hot dogs. Even shish kebabs.”
Mitch scooped up a bite of potato salad. “Well, we are definitely making this a tradition. You grill, I’ll buy the potato salad.” He slid the bite of food into his mouth and pulled the fork out. It wasn’t until he saw Craig’s wide eyes that he’d realized what he’d just said. Shit. Maybe Craig would let it go.
“Tradition?”
Of course he didn’t. He took another swig of beer. “Uh, yeah. Guess I wasn’t thinking.” Not like they could fly back every year to spend time in Branson. The sun had set by then, but the light next to the front door was enough to illuminate Craig’s eyes and he froze, his beer still in his hand. The way Craig was watching him shot desire straight to his dick. Damn. This was just going to confuse things. It was time to tell him.
“So, I got a call this morning,” he began, meeting Craig’s gaze across the table and shifting uncomfortably on the wooden bench.
“I remember.” Craig’s voice was quiet. Reserved. But his stare never wavered.
“It was my new boss. In West Virginia.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “They want me to come out early. Apparently the guy that was supposed to cover some big store opening fell and broke his leg and the rest of the staff is already on assignment.”
“When?”
“I would fly out day after tomorrow.” Mitch’s heart sank as he waited for Craig to say something. Anything. To help him figure this out. His heart was telling him to go to California, but did that make him irresponsible? Was he overthinking it all? It was almost like he was waiting for a sign.
Craig was silent as he rose from the table. Mitch’s heart began to crack, thinking he was leaving without talking to him, but instead Craig held his hand out to him.
“Come with me.” Craig’s voice was husky, and Mitch nodded, slid off the bench, and put his hand in Craig’s.
Craig led him over to the side of the porch where he dropped Mitch’s hand so he could pull his phone from his pocket. He fiddled with it until he found a station playing music, set it on the railing, and held his hand back out.
“Mitchell?”
He trembled when he gave Craig his hand. The music was some pop song that Mitch recognized, but it could have been opera for all he cared. Craig pulled him close, his arm wrapping around Mitch’s waist until their chests were pressed together. He pulled his arm up, still gripping Mitch’s hand and held him close as they danced in the dirt.
The stars were bright over the treetops, and Mitch could hear chirping over the music. Craig let his hand go and Mitch slid it around Craig’s waist, leaning into him as they moved together slowly. Hope sprouted in his chest, and for once, Mitch didn’t fight it, letting it grow and spread through him.
As they danced, they gradually moved away from the cabin, the phone too far away to be heard. Instead, they danced to the music of the woods. The cicadas, the wind blowing through the trees, a frog croaking nearby. It was magical, and Mitch laid his head on Craig’s shoulder, giving in to the pull, wanting to burn this moment into his memory. This would carry him through the lonely times ahead if he chose West Virginia.
Craig tightened his grip and Mitch leaned his head back to look at him, trembling again when he saw the intensity in his eyes. Craig’s lips brushed against his, and Mitch gasped. There was something different in this kiss. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t just desire. It was too much to hope for.
He kissed Mitch again, and Mitch moaned, eager for more. In just a few days, he’d become addicted to the taste of Craig. He needed more. He needed everything.
But Craig pulled back and tucked Mitch’s head back onto his chest, then gently rested his chin on top.
Mitch had no idea how long they danced, but he never wanted it to end. He sighed and nuzzled his face against the soft fabric of Craig’s shirt, breathing him in. Memorizing his scent. He was surprised to feel Craig tremble under him.
“Mitchell? Don’t you know how I feel? Don’t you know I need you in my life?”
Mitch gasped, tears springing to his eyes.
“I can’t let you go to West Virginia. Wait, that came out wrong… if you want to go to West Virginia, you should. But I’d rather you come to California with me. Or if you prefer, I can move to West Virginia. I don’t care where we are, Mitchell, as long as we’re together.”
Mitch leaned his head back and looked at him. “You want to be with me enough that you’d give up your new job?”
Craig’s lips curved up into a smile and he cupped Mitch’s face with both hands. “I want to be your boyfriend—and not a long-distance one. You’re already my best friend and you always will be. How could I not love you?”
“You… love me?” His heart pounded hard against his chest as the tears fell. “Truly?”
“Yes.” Craig chuckled. “To both questions. Yes to everything. I love you, Mitchell.” He wrapped his arms around Mitch and pulled him up off the ground, planting a kiss on his lips. “Remember the picture we had taken at Silver Dollar City? With the cuffs and the key?”
Mitch nodded, unsure where he was going with this.
“I was t
rying to tell you that we had the key to our happiness. The key to love.” He laughed loud. “God, that’s cheesy, right?”
Suddenly everything made sense to Mitch. He wasn’t meant to go out east. He was supposed to go west. Like those pioneers they’d learned about in St. Louis, he would travel west with love and hope in his heart. And, of course, a car. No wagons for him.
He threw his arms around Craig as his heart fairly flew. Laughter bubbled up in his chest and escaped as his future lay out in front of him. “Oh, I love you too, Craig,” he confessed. “Let’s go to California!”
That night they danced under the stars, talked throughout the night, making promises and plans, wrapped up in love, their promising future together finally clear to both men. Their love story had started in Missouri, the Gateway to the West, and that’s exactly where they were going. Out west. Facing the unknown together.
Epilogue
One Year Later—Mitch
MITCH CRIED out and dropped the sauté pan as his fingers brushed against the hot metal and the mushrooms flew everywhere.
“Shit!”
Mitch quickly ran cold water over his hand and then cleaned the mess up from the floor. So much for the side dish. He still had the chicken in the oven and the cheesecake he’d picked up earlier. The salad was ready too.
He’d been a jangle of nerves all day, ever since he received the email. Already eager to celebrate the one-year anniversary of when he and Craig had admitted their love under that starlit night in Branson, the email had ratcheted up the excitement of the day.
A glance at his phone told him he only had a few minutes before Craig would arrive home. He chuckled to himself, knowing Craig would be surprised by the dinner. Craig was definitely the better chef in their relationship, but Mitch had tried his hand at a few things over the last year and he’d figured out he could roast chicken and sauté vegetables.
He’d dressed in the green shirt that always made Craig’s eyes light up when he saw Mitch wearing it, and printed out the email. The table was set, the wine was chilled, and the chicken was warming.
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