Page 18 of A Little More Forgiveness

“I’m not the easiest man to get along with.” Finally, something we both agreed on. “But I…” He hesitated. “I went too far. I didn’t think. Didn’t factor in how difficult this might be for you and Leo, so, again, I wanted to apologize.”

“Okay, I’m waiting.”

He shot me a hard look, and though I shouldn’t be pleased about provoking him, I was. His annoyance put us on an equal footing once again, a place we both knew where we stood.

“You are an exasperating man, Mr. Sanchez.”

“What can I say? It’s a gift.”

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

The words didn’t sound insincere; in fact, they sounded as if he truly meant them, and his honesty threw me. What to do? Be the better man and accept his apology, or throw one of my regular sarcastic comments at him when things made me feel nervous? To my surprise and very likely his, I chose the former. “Thank you. Apology accepted.”

He appeared taken aback, his eyes wide and his mouth open. The idea of filling his mouth with a specific part of my anatomy zipped across my mind, making me chuckle. Christ, first jealous of him touching a horse for fuck’s sake, and now wanting to shove my cock between his lips. Hell, I must desperately need to get laid.

“What’s so funny?”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing. I guess I never thought the two of us would ever be able to be in such close proximity without hurling insults.”

I got a real shock when he laughed, the sound so unexpected. I let it envelop me, warm me, savoring the feel before reminding myself that we were indeed in close proximity, just the two of us. Alone. And the more I considered the situation, the more I envisaged the thought of Mitchell taking me in his mouth as I shot my load down his throat. The image of him on his knees right here was so vividly clear, my cock began to stiffen, forcing me to unobtrusively move my hips to accommodate the growing length.

Yeah, I definitely needed to get laid.

“Stranger things have happened, I guess,” he said.

“Ya think? I’m not so sure.”

Laughter filled the space again, and I liked the uninhibited purity. When was the last time I’d heard someone be so refreshingly open?

“So where do we go from here?” I asked him, needing him to set the rules for any future interactions.

“Now, we start over.” He extended his hand across the space between us. “Mitchell Houghton. But please call me Mitch.”

I reached my own hand across, realizing we’d yet to physically touch, deliberately discounting his punch from earlier, of course. However, when our fingers met, I wasn’t in the least bit prepared for the effect. His hands were big. Totally engulfing mine big, and the callouses on his palm and fingers rubbed roughly over my much smoother hands. I loved the feel of his hot skin, the way his fingers wrapped around mine, their strength holding me securely in their grip and not letting me go.

Sparks traveled up my arm, along my shoulder, and when they reached my heart, kicked off a massive jumpstart. I swallowed a couple of times, trying to get my throat to work and my mouth to engage. “Gabe,” I eventually replied, my voice lower than ever before. “Call me Gabe.”

Was he as affected by our contact as me? Apart from his body tensing and his grip tightening, I saw no other reaction at all.

“Gabe,” he replied and hearing my name from his lips made my entire body heat. I nodded, unable to do anything else, and when he released my hand, I nearly didn’t let him go, then instantly felt silly for not wanting to.

His gaze never left my face, and I eventually had to look away, apparently losing any and all of my business acumen and advantage I’d gained when around these two. I needed to get a handle on my emotions if I had any chance of maintaining my cool. I needed the strict rigidness I’d enforced on my life to stop from imploding. It was too close to Christmas Eve, less than a week away, and I determinedly shied away from thinking about what would be happening on our day.

“Let’s go,” Mitch stated. He continued to stare at me, brow furrowed and a definite question in his hazel eyes. “The temperature’s due to drop another ten degrees tonight, and I don’t plan on staying out here any longer than I have to.”

I agreed and followed him as he scooped up the blanket off the gate, slung it over his shoulder and walked down to the stable door. I liked how he’d tried to anticipate my response to his request. If I hadn’t agreed, he’d what? Want to leave me the blanket to ensure I had some protection against the cold? The thoughtfulness of his action touched me, leaving me unsure how to take his kindness, but as I’d agreed to go with him, I didn’t need to think about the implications anyway.

We exited the stables, and I hoped to God this was the last time I’d be out here as the temperature had already dropped so much more in the last half hour. Of course, not wearing a coat didn’t help any. Hurrying to catch up to Mitch, my foot hit a patch of ice, and as the leather sole began to lose traction, I quickly lost my balance. Awkwardly trying to remain upright made my other foot slip, too, my legs going in different directions, while my arms tried to compensate by freewheeling about like an out-of-control fan, and I would have gone down on my ass if Mitch hadn’t swiftly turned and caught me.

His strong arm whipped out to land securely about my waist, and he hauled me in close, my chest hitting his with a thump, knocking the air from my lungs for the second time that day. His grip strengthened as I slipped again and our bodies fully connected, hips aligned, his powerful leg steadfast between mine. My crotch riding his firm thigh, I was sure he noticed my semi-hard dick pushing against him.

My heart fluttered as I stared up at him, its erratic beat pumping hard enough to penetrate through his thick jacket. My breath, more shallow pants than anything else each time I breathed out, left puffs of foggy air in front of our faces, letting him see quite clearly how our closeness affected me.

We stayed frozen for a few seconds, him looking down at me, me looking up at him as time stopped. He had his back to the cabin, so his features were in darkness, but I still sensed his eyes locked on mine, and I had to repress the desperate urge to lick my lips in anticipation of his face lowering and his mouth dropping on mine for a kiss.

He didn’t move, though, only tightened his grip, pulling me even closer, his thick fingers digging into my side, momentarily followed by him pushing me firmly away to arms-length, while still reluctantly holding on to make sure I wouldn’t slip. His big hands gripped my shoulders in the only place he allowed us to touch. Then a second later, he cut that contact, too, when I stayed upright and stable.

A horrible thought occurred to me. I might have misread the signals I presumed he sent out earlier. He had looked at my lips and then my crotch back in the cabin, of that I had no doubt. However, before she died, the guy did have a wife, and while I know that isn’t always an indicator on sexual preference, perhaps in his case that’s exactly what it was, and I’d been looking for something that just wasn’t there. A mistake I prayed I wasn’t going to pay for now.

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