by AJ Hardcourt
Ten Inches
By
AJ Hardcourt
Ten Inches
Smashwords Edition.
COPYRIGHT © 2011 AJ Hardcourt
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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Demanding Romance
Publishing History
First Demanding Romance Edition, January 2011
Cover art by A. Jay Hardcourt
Published in the United States of America
Ten Inches
“Ten inches.”
Nick Cooper crashed back to his pillow, cradling his cell phone against his ear. Ian Parker, his best friend, sounded too damn happy for a Tuesday morning. “Huh?”
“I said ‘ten inches.’”
“I heard you, but I’m too tired to interpret your cryptic message.” Not that they’d spent much time talking about the size of Ian’s cock. Though Nick had thought about it plenty of times, imagined every glorious inch. All fantasies because he and Ian were just friends.
Nick stretched. “So are you bragging?” He glanced at the glowing red numbers of his alarm clock. 7:03. Fuck, he could sleep another fifty-seven minutes.
“No, I’m promising a good time.”
And the innuendos kept coming…making Nick’s morning wood like rock. He couldn’t help slipping his hands beneath the warm blankets and closing his fist around the hotter flesh pulsing at his groin. Cream beaded on the tip of his dick. He slicked his thumb through the slippery secretions and circled the flared rim. God, he was a sick fuck for getting off on the sound of Ian’s deep voice, the thought of Ian’s cock, and the husky words of promise. Although what they were promising was still a mystery.
Nick had to be misinterpreting the words. Ian wouldn’t be propositioning him for sex. He wasn’t a curvy blonde with big tits and a pussy. And while he knew he had the goods in the ass department, and loved a nice hard prick drilling his hole, he didn’t think—no, he knew Ian wasn’t interested. Good thing Nick’s orientation wasn’t a problem for Ian. Ian was secure in his sexuality—as secure as Nick was in being gay. “You’ll have to be more clear in what you’re offering.”
“What would you want me to offer?”
“Ian—”
Ian chuckled and a shiver of awareness slipped over Nick. “I’m referring to the ten inches of fresh powder on the mountain. Grab your gear; time to rip some flake. Cut the pow pow.” Ian’s voice lowered and he chuckled. “Exactly what ten inches did you think I was talking about?”
“You know me.”
“Yeah, you’re a horny bastard. Do you want a piece of my ass?” His disarming laugh took any sting or misinterpretation from his words. And they weren’t exactly accurate. He wanted Ian to want a piece of his ass.
Nick was a bottom, liked the burn of a hard cock spearing into his ass. Ian’s cock…fuck, he couldn’t think about Ian’s cock without his ass clenching and his nuts warming. “If we’re talking about ten inches of dick, I’m going to need a shot of something stiff.” Like Ian’s cock.
“God, that’s what I love about you.” Ian’s rich laughter chased away the last of sleep.
Nick sat up and scrubbed a hand though his hair. “So what is it you want?”
“I want you to play in the snow with me,” Ian said with a teasing tone.
“One day you’re going to get exactly what you’re asking for.”
“Good.”
Nick swallowed hard. If he didn’t know Ian better, he’d worry—or rather relish in the innuendo, hoping one day he would get his hands on the more than six feet of rippling male muscle with piecing blue eyes and black hair. Ian had model-good looks and collected women like moths to flames. Actually he collected the flames, too. Gay men wanted to be with Ian, and straight men wished they were Ian. And besides looks and personality, the man was a god on the slopes. Reckless, adventurous and a total adrenaline junkie thrill seeker.
Nick was way too anal, in an OCD sort-of-way, to forget about responsibilities and play hooky. “I have to work.” But he would love to spend the day with Ian. Fresh air and physical activity. He could work off the determined erection tenting his sheets.
“Ten inches of powder. Blue skies—”
“Gray skies. There’s another storm moving in.”
“Soft powder,” Ian countered. “And less crowds and more open space.”
Nick was caving. The draw of Ian and ten inches almost made him forget he had a full inbox at the office and a mountain of work bigger then the peaks outside his apartment window. “I have to work.”
“Man, but you sound terrible. You’re coming down with a serious case of gotta-tricky-itis. Call in because you’ll infect the rest of the office.”
“Then the rest of the office will be up on the mountain.”
“Yeah, so you’ll be doing your boss a favor.”
Nick could work from home tonight. “I don’t know.”
“The boarding is going to be freaking pristine, brother. So get your shred sled and let’s go snowing.”
Nick groaned. “You’re a bad influence.” He could hear Ian’s smile through the phone. He glanced at the clock. “I’ll be ready in an hour. Half day, Ian. I have to get some work done tonight.”
They were just words. If the snow was perfect, Ian would have to be dragged kicking and screaming off the mountain. And apparently Nick was unable to say no to the man.
* * * * *
Several areas made up the massive resort. A gondola ran from the lobby of the main lodge to a grouping of several cottages and ski runs. There were areas designed for skiers only, a halfpipe for boarders, and jumps for aerials.
Nick had to admit, Ian’s idea to hit the slopes was nothing short of brilliant. Quick lift rides up and fresh powder all the way down. Flurries had fallen off and on throughout the chilly morning, but as they boarded into the afternoon, the weather seemed to be shifting for the worse.
“What do you think?” Ian asked, snapping his goggles into place as they prepared to take another run down the slope. “I don’t like how dark it’s gotten.”
“Me either.” The sky and the snow merged into one large gray horizon. Nick squinted into the distance, then turned to Ian. “I think we should carve it up one last time.”
Ian smiled, the cold air making his full lips red and just a bit wind burned. His breath frosted in the air. “Care to make a wager for the best shred? Lunch?”
“Sure.”
“See you at the bottom.” Ian launched into his run and Nick followed. Racing down the hill Nick carved hard and low, slicing the snow, but he couldn’t compete with Ian’s skills. Ian’s plaid parka and baggie red and black vent pants were a blaze of banging tricks.
Nick would have no problem buying lunch. Better than crashing and doing an asspass the rest of the way down the mountain. Unlike Ian, Nick had an office job. Ian worked for the resort. Private ski and boarding
lessons and part time ski patrol. He played where he worked, and Nick reaped some of the perks. Their fun today was only going to cost him lunch.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later, Nick sank his teeth into a big juicy cheeseburger.
“Have you ever thought about boarding lessons?” Ian asked, then shoved another hot fry into his mouth.
Nick finished chewing, wondering just how he was supposed to respond to that statement. He might not have Ian’s skills, but he didn’t think he needed to be schooled.
“Maybe just once or twice a week. Just beginner stuff.”
Nick leaned back in his chair. “Fuck you, too.”
Ian’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Sorry if I cramp your style. I have a real job and don’t spend my days up here on the mountain catching air and chasing chicks.”
Ian chucked a fry across the table, smacking Nick in the head. “To teach, dumbass.” He laughed and dipped another fry into ketchup and popped it into his mouth. “Instruct with me, get a pass, we can board every day together.”
Nick stared as Ian’s tongue slid from between his lips and tasted the salt from his thumb. Ian slowed the movement, curling his tongue over his blunt nail then lowering his hand. “You okay?”
“Um, yeah.” No, his own tongue filled his mouth and his throat was tight. He couldn’t watch Ian lick his thumb and not imagine those lips wrapped around his cock. The room closed in on him, and he was suddenly too hot in his clothes. He needed space between them. “We should bail.” He glanced past the open pit fire burning in the center of the large room and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “The snow is really coming down.”
A woman in pink ski pants and a sweater clinging to her curves rushed over to the table. Flakes of snow melted on her wind-reddened cheeks. “You should get a room.”
Nick snapped his gaze to the woman. Panic constricted his chest. What the hell had he done to warrant the comment? “We’re just having lunch.”
She glanced at Nick, and Ian laughed. “I don’t think she meant us,” Ian said to Nick.
Fuck. Nick hadn’t meant to speak out. “Oh god.” He bowed his head. She probably wanted Ian to get a room—to share with her. “I think I’ll excuse myself before I say anything else.”
“You look guilty, Nicky. So don’t think I don’t know exactly where your thoughts were.” Ian chuckled. “I knew you wanted me.” He turned to the girl. “Hey, Angie, what’s going on?”
Mortification burned Nick’s face as heat crawled up his neck. Pressure built behind his eyes. About now it’d be nice if the floor opened and swallowed him. Ian’s flippant words punched him in the gut.
“The canyon was just shut down. There’s a wreck, and by the time it’s cleared, the snow is going to be piling up. It’ll be hours. And if the weatherman is right, not that he usually is, but you never know, and he said six to eight by morning.”
Ian wagged his brows. “Six to eight, Nick. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
Nick rolled his eyes. He’d never live down the morning phone call. “Six to eight inches would be perfect,” he countered. “But the weather man was calling for six to eight feet.”
Ian cocked a brow. “Really?” He didn’t sound surprised.
“Yeah, so do you want to get a room? I’m grabbing a room for me and Cinda. Do you guys want to share?”
Ian met Nick’s gaze over the table. Nick’s stomach clenched, and a shiver of awareness—sexual awareness—crawled over his flesh. Where in the hell was this coming from? Well, he knew where. Just because his dick didn’t know better, Nick did. Ian wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be interested in Nick? Could he?
“Not this time,” Ian said to her, but his gaze remained riveted to Nick.
“Well, you better hurry, or you’ll be copping a piece of carpet in here. The announcement is about to be made.” The bubbly blonde danced off toward the lobby.
“What are you doing?” Why was Ian intentionally making him uncomfortable? Nick had to be reading more than possible into Ian’s body language. The innuendos weren’t fun anymore. Nick didn’t like being played with…at least not like this. “I can’t stay.”
“I don’t think we have a choice.”
Nick couldn’t stay the night. Not only did he have work waiting at home, but a sleepover with Ian would be complicated. It was hard enough to dream about Ian, but sharing a bedroom would be torture. “No, I can’t stay.” Shit. He was fucked but not in the way he wanted. “My case of gotta-tricky-itis is going to cost me my job. I have a status report due on my boss’s desk first thing in the morning. My files, that they believe I am working on, are on my flash drive…currently plugged into my laptop, in my apartment. Remember, I’m supposed to be sick but still able to work from home, so regardless what time the canyon opens, I have to go home. Tonight. That report has to be on his desk either by me going in or by email.”
“Fine, but I don’t want to spend the afternoon in a packed lobby or restaurant. Let’s get the room and wait out the storm. Look, you can take a nap, and then when the road opens, you’ll be able get home and work though the night.” Ian sighed and leaned his forearms against the edge of the table. “It’s my fault that you’re in this position. So wait here while I get the room.”
“Ian—”
“No. Shut up and pay for lunch.” He gulped the last of his soda. “I’ll get the room.” He stood. “And don’t worry.” He winked. “I’ll get a double.” Ian didn’t wait for a response. He headed across the room.
Nick groaned, rested his elbow on the table and braced his forehead in his palm. Just his luck. Nothing ever worked out the way he planned. He fished his wallet from his back pocket. His fingers paused when he spotted the condom tucked in the corner. His pulse raced as he thought of the possibilities…and the consequences. He’d be better off tossing the condom in the garbage. But he couldn’t. Because in the darkest corner of his mind, he admitted, if Ian propositioned him, he’d want to say yes.
However, Ian had a girlfriend. He and Jenny had been dating for almost year. And, even when Ian wasn’t dating someone, he had a friend with benefits that stepped in. Nick couldn’t remember her name, because she was strictly a booty call. Ian didn’t go long without getting laid. Hell, in the past, neither had Nick. Although casual encounters from the bar had grown old quickly. And Nick had it bad for Ian. So lately, Nick had focused on work. Maybe he could work himself out of his dead-end position.
The server set the bill on the table, and Nick handed her his credit card. As Nick waited for the receipt and for Ian, he considered what the next few hours would mean. Kick back, watch some television, take a nap…stay on his side of the room, on separate beds. Maybe he could even keep his cock from sporting a boner every time Ian spoke.
“We’re all set.” Ian plopped down on the chair across from him. “I checked the snow report. It’s really coming down.”
Nick leaned back in his chair. Perfect. Not that he wouldn’t want to hang out with Ian, he would. He was his best friend. But not in a hotel room, not stranded for an indefinite amount of time, with only a few feet of space between the beds. “I need to see if I can do damage control.” He groaned and rolled his shoulders. “I’m so fucked.”
“Not yet.”
Nick snapped his gaze to Ian.
“Don’t panic.”
Don’t panic? All Nick could think about was being fucked…by Ian. His cock throbbed, confined and trying to break free from his pants. His mind was spinning from being thrown in and out of sexual frustration. If his balls turned blue, it would have nothing to do with the cold temperatures.
