Page 23 of The Try Line

"Don't forget, if the power goes out, you have to set a timer for one hour. If it isn't back on, you need to plug the refrigerator into the small battery generator we bought for storms like this. It's in the garage, on the–"

"On the right-hand side next to the tool chest. Got it," I say reassuringly.

"If you don't plug it in before the power has been out for four hours, we'll lose all those groceries we just bought, and the leftovers that Jase wanted to–"

"Janie," I say, pulling out the nickname I only use in times like these. "This isn't my first rodeo. I've got this. Everything will be fine."

She's not trying to nag, but she just can't help herself. It's like if she doesn't say it out loud, none of it will happen correctly, and everything will burn down around us. Feeling out-of-control sets off her anxiety in a bad way.

Janel huffs and switches gears. "You shouldn't be out driving in this either," she tells me.

"Couldn't be helped. But we're almost home."

"Go in through the garage when you get home. I don't want you tracking in mud and getting everything wet."

"We will," I say placatingly, even though it's long been habit for me and Jase to go through the garage and strip in the utility room that separates the kitchen and the garage for years now. If nothing else, I'm a well-trained husband.

"Shoes off on the mat," she reminds me.

"Yes, dear." I can hear her eyes roll through the phone.

"Okay, well. Get home safe. Love you both," she says. Jason and I both say we love her at the same time, and I don't miss the way he's smirking at me.

"Such an obedient little husband," Jason snarks, and the tone of his voice heats my blood. I know he's taunting me, but the growl of his voice, intended or not, makes me squirm.

A horn blares behind me, alerting me that the light we're stopped at has turned green. I roll forward through the intersection, trying studiously to ignore the way Jason says, "good boy."

By the time we pull into the driveway, I'm fighting to get enough oxygen to my brain. The tension is suffocating.

My remote entry to the garage isn't working, which means the power must have already gone out. I reach for my small duffle bag in the back seat, ignoring the heat of Jason's skin when I accidentally brush up against him. It can't be helped. Neither of us is small, and the sensible sedan I drive these days isn't exactly roomy. Just that innocent touch makes my skin flush, and the muggy air fogs the car windows.

Jason's glare on the side of my face is intense. His fingers dig into his thighs. I can't breathe. My pulse is too fast. I might be following in my father’s footsteps, having a heart attack before forty.

Pull yourself together.

Staring straight ahead, I blow out a breath and steel myself. Then I open the door.

Since the power is out, I have to open the garage manually, and I get even more soaked doing it. Jason follows me inside and silently helps me pull the garage door shut. There's enough light coming in through the small windows at the top of the garage door to not trip over anything, but it’s pretty dark. I kick off my shoes on the mat in front of the door and trudge inside to the utility room with the washer and dryer. With a slight tremble in my limbs, I open the washing machine and start pulling off my dripping clothes. I sense rather than see Jason doing the same and manage not to look at him until I notice something out of the corner of my eye. Turning towards him, my gaze narrows in on a dark shape on one side of Jason's ribs.

Too stupid to think better of it, I get closer until I can make out the infinity symbol inked into his skin. My fingers reach out and hover over the tattoo, eyes hot with the prickle of tears. The memory of my fingers tracing this very symbol in this very spot hits me like I'm being defibrillated, and I pull my hand back. I swallow the sudden onslaught of emotion that catches in my throat, and then flinch when I feel the heat of Jason's hand on my side. His thumb runs over the identical shape etched onto the same side of my ribs.

His fingers dig into my skin painfully. My chest heaves. I should step away. I need to move away. To get out of this little room. To create some space between us.

I should. I need to. I will…

Jason's mouth crashes to mine, and every rational thought I have goes out the window. Every cell in my body, including whatever cells I have left in my brain, is focused on the feel of his skin on mine, hot and slick with rainwater. His thick muscled arms taking possession of my body. The shock of cold when my back hits the wall. Theelectric need that shoots right to my cock the moment our tongues lick against each other.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The way his lips move against mine is possessive and all-consuming. He devours my mouth, and there's no part of me that is doing the right thing and pushing him away. No, I'm giving him everything he gives me with equal fervor. Tongues and teeth clash, and we paw at each other, desperate for more of whatever it is that drives us to insanity.

His hands come around to my ass and pull me against him, our hard cocks pressing together, andfuck, the two thin layers of damp fabric between us feel like chain mail. Jason’s thick, muscular thigh presses between my legs, inciting a bone deep shudder that rips through me. He groans and grips me tighter, and then we’re just two panting animals, grunting and rutting against each other.

The electricity kicks back on and a loud hum of appliances surging with power interrupts our lust-fueled haze. Several lights click to life, and we jolt apart like we'd just been caught.

Clarity hits me like a ton of bricks, and I take a deep breath. Jason takes a step back to me, but I hold my hand up in front of me, pressing against his firm chest. So firm. So hot. So fucking manly. My fingers curl into the hair that dusts his pecs, but I keep him at arm's length. My chin drops to my chest while I take several deep, steeling breaths.

Get yourself together, Mik! What the fuck are you doing!?

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