ALEX

I’d gotten myself into this mess because I thought it would be funny. Hindsight made me realize I hadn’t really thought it through. Sure, the first time I’d seen Art—George’s picture I’d been floored by his pouty lips and my heart had throbbed nearly out of my chest the moment I’d met his steely blue gaze through my phone screen, but even still—

I hadn’t expected to like him this much.

Hadn’t expected to feel the surge of protective energy that I did now as I squeezed his shoulders tight and herded him toward the tent we’d be sharing.

This had started out as a joke.

It wasn’t very funny now.

My heart beat double time as George’s neck remained stiff and his shoulders drew up tight despite the way I rubbed circles into the tense muscle.

The sun was setting low on the horizon and I was more than a little grateful that we’d stopped at the diner on the way here because the sandwiches Mrs. Milton had prepared had barely filled the empty hole of my stomach.

Maybe I was still hungry, or maybe this was nerves.

Either way.

I pushed the feeling aside as I unzipped the tent door, mournfully releasing George’s shoulders and missing the delicious heat that emanated from him.

“You first,” I hummed, forgetting for just a moment what a jumpy little rabbit he was.

He turned alarmed eyes on me, his full lips wobbling as he pressed them together in a thin—distressed—line.

“You want me to go first?” The deep throaty quake of his voice had my cock perking up and my mouth suddenly dry. Fuck. For such a pretty thing his voice was wildly deceiving. He was all sorts of contrary. His long limber body contrasting with his broad shoulders and slim hips. His desperately pretty features almost feminine with curled brown lashes and a sweet little mole under his left eye that I wanted nothing more than to lick.

That voice though.

Rolling, rumbling, delicious, and throaty.

Fuuuuck.

It’s why the moment he’d opened his mouth at the airport I’d known I was done for.

“I’ll go first,” I said immediately, turning toward the flap and slipping inside the dark tent without overthinking the way I wanted to slam George to the forest floor and become familiar with the throat that made such gorgeous noises—even when he was freaked out.

I glanced around, checking the darkest corners, and dubbed the tent safe.

“No snakes, bugs, or creatures of any kind,” I said, sitting down on the air mattress I’d set up, my lips twisting into a smile I knew was more a leer than anything. I patted the space beside me as I watched George duck his head in through the flap, his steely eyes narrowed, his thick dark brows drawn down in a suspicious scowl.

Clearly he trusted me well enough because he entered without more than a cursory glance around.

He was nervous.

His hands were twitching against his thighs, his nose scrunched up in disgust as he eyed the musty sleeping bag one of his brothers had foisted off on me in preparation for the night.

In a way, I felt bad for him.

But watching him squirm was fun in its own way.

My own setup was a lot nicer. Air mattress. Six hundred dollar sleeping bag I’d picked up precisely for this trip, three pillows, and a wireless space heater.

“You planned ahead,” George accused, even though it wasn’t my fault everyone had opted not to warn him about the sleeping arrangements. Maybe they’d thought it would be funny. Maybe they’d thought he wouldn’t come if he knew, but…well.

I couldn’t say I was sorry he was stuck with me for the foreseeable future.

“This is not…” George started, then stopped, his miffed expression shifting as he turned back to the still-open tent flap. He gazed forlornly toward the cabins outlined in shadow, the lights inside them flickering as the rest of the campers got ready for bed.

Tomorrow night there would be a bonfire, but today, most everyone was too exhausted from setting up to do anything but rest. I leaned around him, our chests brushing, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and stared at me. He was so warm. So fucking warm. His eyes were accusatory, questioning.

“Just shutting the door, Twinky,” I hummed, taking my time with it, my fingers catching on the zipper as I began the slow process of zipping us inside. “For the bugs.”

“For the bugs,” he repeated, looking more than a little shell-shocked.

He smelled fruity.

A sharp citrus note to his scent that was close to lemonade but had an undercurrent of…what?

Peaches?

“Try to get some rest,” I urged, even though what I wanted to do was shift the few inches over to lace a kiss along the scratchy corner of his jaw. God, he was lovely. His back was ramrod straight, his long elegant fingers folded over his lap as he wrung his hands together and his shoulders drew up tight again.

“I can’t.”

“You…can’t?” I cocked my head, stubbornly refusing to move away. Maybe he couldn’t rest because I was here. Maybe he desired me the same way I desired him—maybe… But no. That would be too easy. It had to be something else. George was nothing if not contrary.

Then I remembered the conversation I’d had with his mother and my grin grew wolfish.

“Scared of the dark?”

“Fuck you,” George hissed, shoving at my chest hard enough if I hadn’t been prepared for it, I might’ve fallen over. As it was, I just adjusted my stance, widening my thighs as I watched his lashes flutter and the whites of his eyes flash with fury.

“S’okay, Georgie.” I watched my breath ruffle the golden curls tucked behind his ear and swallowed a groan. “I know what to do.”

It didn’t take long to find the lamp his mother had given me and I flicked it on with a flourish, watching as George glared at me but the tension in his shoulders began to bleed away unconsciously. God, he was cute.

Still scared of the dark.

Scared of a lot of things actually.

He surprisingly didn’t complain about his sleeping bag as he settled down for the night. In the morning we’d brave the bathrooms together and I was sure I’d hear all about the rocky ground and the fact that his pillowcase looked at least a decade old.

Listening to his breathing made me relax despite myself and I began to doze, the steady puff of his breath soothing me.

Some time later I was startled awake by the brush of cold fingers against my shoulder.

“Alex?” George’s voice was small and trembling, but strong.

“Hmm?” I twisted around, blinking the sleep away from my gritty eyes as I caught George’s silhouette in the dark, illuminated by the faint orange glow of his night light.

“I think I felt something inside my sleeping bag.”

He was clearly freaked out and sleep fled me as quickly as it had come, my brow furrowed in concern. I unzipped my sleeping bag enough that I could sit up a little, leaning toward him.

“Something as in…?”

“Maybe…” George sounded unsure, his lower lip wobbling. “A bug? Or…”

Jesus.

He was cute when he was freaked out.

“Will you walk with me to the cabins? I think I’ll sleep there after all.”

He sounded so defeated.

Like staying here in the tents had been a challenge he’d been determined to overcome. Like by giving up on it he was giving up on something much more important.

No.

Fuck.

That wasn’t what I wanted.

I reached out for him, snatching onto his wrist, surprised by how icy cold his skin was. Jesus. How long had he been sitting on top of his sleeping bag, waiting for me to wake before he’d decided to take initiative?

This wasn’t like him.

The shivering man beside me wasn’t the same one who had stabbed me with a ballpoint pen. This behavior made me wonder what it was about his fears that made him feel so small. Everyone had them. Even I did, though mine were far more complicated than something as simple as the dark or bugs.

“Alex?” George stared at me, clearly confused. I gave his wrist another squeeze, then gently tugged him toward me.

“Get in.”

“What?” He squawked, but didn’t fight very hard as I latched onto his hip with my other hand, hissing as the cold night air nipped at my fingers.

I yanked.

George tumbled onto my air mattress with a startled huff and I unzipped my sleeping bag the rest of the way, grabbing his slim waist and hauling him inside before I reached around him to zip us back up inside it. He was ice cold and I shuddered, ignoring my own discomfort as my elbow brushed the soft cotton of his t-shirt and my nose tickled the fruity strands of hair above his adorably small ears. I wanted to bite them but I somehow managed not to.

“Get some rest,” I said for the second time that night.

To my surprise, George didn’t protest. He stayed stiff as a board though, and I respected him enough to not cross that distance, even though the chill of his body against my side made me want to rub some heat into him in more ways than one.

This time he fell asleep first.

Exhausted by his own self-sacrifice, George’s body grew lax and his shivers settled as the heat blossomed in the space between us. Like this, trapped together, his scent was even stronger. Fruity, sweet. Sharp as he was. I shifted to get comfortable, my dick uncomfortably hard as I reached down to grind the heel of my palm against it to soothe the ache.

I wouldn’t do more, I wasn’t that kind of guy.

There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

But it didn’t make me want him any less.

Before I’d met George I didn’t believe in love at first sight. Hell, I still didn’t. What I felt for him though was…something else. Lust at first sight? Desire at first sight? Possessiveness at first sight? From the moment I saw his picture I’d wanted nothing more than to get to know him.

To figure out what made him tick.

To taste those cherry pink lips and figure out why the hell his pissed-off expression made me harder than nails.

Eventually, I succumbed to sleep but my dreams were plagued with slick tongues and eager red cocks so it was with no surprise that I woke up the next morning with my hard dick pressed against the swell of George’s supple ass.

Fuck.

He made the sweetest little noise as his hips hitched back against me, his cheeks parting so I could rut in the tight, hot space between them. Despite wanting nothing more than to lose myself in his body, I had at least some self-control.

Yay for me.

I pulled back, even though my dick gave a mourning pulse.

“George.” My voice was lower than normal, scratchy with sleep and arousal.

George stirred, his long limbs stretching, his body loose and soft as he shuffled over. He was relaxed until the moment he opened his eyes and realized who he was in bed with. The ice flooded his gaze again as he glared at me, the sweet, scared man from the night before gone with the last dregs of indigo night.

“George…” I started again, unsure what I wanted to say.

He was unzipping the sleeping bag before I could blink, his gorgeous ass right in my face as he crawled toward the tent flap and shoved his feet inside his sneakers. He had nice feet too. Bigger than you’d expect, lovely arches. Strong but delicate.

Without a word, George disappeared into the crisp morning air, striding confidently across the valley toward the cabins. I was left reeling, turning over onto my back with a soft sigh as I reached up to scrub my hand over my face.

I wasn’t sure what I’d done wrong this time—but…

I couldn’t help but grin as I tipped my head toward the still-open tent flap and my dick gave an overeager throb.

Maybe it was wrong of me to love the chase as much as I did. A primal instinct. Animalistic. But I loved scaring him just as much as I loved soothing him. I wanted to chase him down, rip his tight little pants in half and mount him in the middle of the clearing for all to see. A beast with his prize.

But no.

No.

That wasn’t who I was.

That wasn’t what this was.

So I got dressed in silence instead, and headed off to find my sister. With the morning sun came promise and I couldn’t wait to see what it would bring with it.