Page 75 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

“You’ve been slammed and distracted. Not to mention recovering from the accident. Give yourself a break, Way.”

Several Majesticans greeted us as we made our way down the final block and entered Pete’s. We took a table in the back and ordered a large pepperoni and a couple of sodas.

“I’m starving,” I realized. Before I could ask Silas what he’d been up to all morning, one of Foster’s deputies approached our table and greeted me. “Just the man I wanted to see. You got a minute?”

Hanson Sandoval hadn’t been a local when Foster had recruited him over from the Law Enforcement Academy in Douglas. The man had grown up in Moran and had been a volunteer with the Teton County Search and Rescue team before deciding to pursue a law enforcement career. His SaR experience was one of the reasons Foster had recruited him to Majestic’s sheriff’s department. In addition to being good at what he did, he was also proving to be a nice guy and a great addition to our town.

“Sure. What’s up?” I pulled out one of the empty chairs at our table so he could take a seat before making sure he and Silas had met.

“I already talked to Foster about this, and he said to talk to you. We’ve been trying to get the folks from Casper to approve a second helicopter to be on standby for trauma response during the exhibition event.”

Silas’s eyebrows dipped. “Casper?”

“It’s the nearest regional trauma center,” I explained.

“But that’s nowhere near here.”

Hanson tapped his finger on the table. “Which is why we’re trying so hard to figure out funding to upgrade the Majestic clinic to at least a community trauma hospital, if not a regional one.”

“What about Billings?” Silas asked. “Isn’t it closer?”

“It’s a state thing,” I explained. “We can send patients to the hospital in Billings in an emergency, but we can’t ask for their resources preemptively due to the way state budgets work.”

I could see the wheels turning in his head. If I knew Silas, he was going to try and solve this dilemma. The thought didn’t make me nearly as antsy as it had just a few days ago… and that realization itself probably should have made me antsy. But after the night we’d had, after the way Silas had given himself to me, I couldn’t muster a single qualm.

I turned back to Hanson. “What do you need from me?”

“If Casper agrees to the second bird, that still leaves us without one for any SaR needs. The outdoor television network is bringing one in for aerial coverage of the race. Apparently, it’s standard for them to agree to let SaR teams use their helicopters in an emergency as long as the SaR team pays for the fuel and piloting time. I wanted to see if we have any money to cover this if it happens. Obviously we don’t anticipate needing it since the exhibition isn’t that intense, but it’s better to be prepared and have all the paperwork in place just in case.”

We talked through details of what kind of budget would be needed, and I agreed to schedule a meeting with him later in the week to figure out whether or not we could afford it. “We can definitely get the paperwork done, regardless,” I added. “But I’m not sure about the money yet. I can reach out to the Lawrence Foundation about a grant, but they’re not that big. It’s possible this might qualify for a Kussman Memorial Trust grant. I’ll ask Bernice to do some research.”

“That would be great. I’m still researching other sources with the help of some guys over in Teton County, but I wanted to loop you in.”

Silas watched the young deputy as he stood and apologized for interrupting our lunch. Once Hanson was gone, he finally spoke. “How likely is it there will be a search and rescue need during the event?”

“Well… not as unlikely as you might think. SaR includes things like swift water rescue. Anytime you have people on the river, there’s a chance you’ll need emergency rescue help. We usually end up needing an SaR team several times per summer for various reasons. Tourists trapped on a rock face needing rope rescue, kayakers and rafters stuck in the middle of a river needing swift water rescue, or lost hikers needing mountain or land rescue. It’s one of the reasons Foster has been trying so hard to get funding for a paid program instead of relying on volunteers. But with the additional volume of tourists and outdoor adventure enthusiasts coming for the exhibition… yeah, there’s a higher chance we’d need serious resources in place. I’d rather be overprepared than under.”

As I spoke, Silas’s eyes seemed to darken. I couldn’t figure out where the additional intensity was coming from until much later that day when we met back up at home and he shoved me against the wall and put his tongue in my mouth.

“What the fuck?” I asked between gasping breaths.

“Turns out I have a competency fetish,” he growled before kissing me breathless again. His hard cock thrust against mine through too many layers of clothes. “You drive me fucking crazy, Mayor.”

“Fuck me,” I said without thinking.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Mean it,” I said after a single second of hesitation. Part of me wanted to know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of all that carnal energy, to feel him lose control and pound into me until he came on a shudder and shout.

Silas pulled back and met my eyes. The edge of his lips curled up in a satisfied smirk. “You want me inside you, Mr. Majestic? Is that what you want?”

I felt hard and desperate, horny and shameless. “Yes.”

There was something coiled and tightly controlled in Silas, and I wanted to see it snap. I wanted him to let go and be wide open with me. Maybe if I offered to bottom for him, he would finally show me that part of himself.

“Then why are you standing there, fully clothed, Mayor Fletcher?” Silas asked.

And if I’d thought his eyes had been intense before… it was nothing to the way they looked now.

---