Page 36 of Cold Winter Nights

“Come on, handsome, let’s get our dinner out the back seat of your truck, and maybe you’ll show me the rest of your home since it all went past me in a blur.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh.” Royal stopped before he climbed off the bed. “Can you leave your shirt off while we eat?”

He could feel his cheeks burning, but he had to ask. Stone’s hairy chest turned him on so damn much, he wanted to keep staring at it.

A corner of Stone’s mouth curved. It wasn’t a full smile but it was close.

“It’s cold,” Stone rumbled.

“Then turn up the heat and start a fire,” he challenged, licking his lips as he ran his hand through the dense black and gray hair covering Stone’s thick pecs.

Stone’s growl was sexy as fuck as he got up and pulled a lounge shirt out of his top dresser drawer and a pair of thread-worn, black sweats. He gave Royal a hot leer when he unbuttoned the shirt and let it flare open.

Stone tossed him a white T-shirt, and a pair of cotton lounge pants with a drawstring.

“I brought a bag with my own clothes, ya know.” Royal chuckled while putting on the oversized clothes.

“I know. But I wear what you want…you wear what I want.” Stone stalked towards him and wrapped his big arm around his back and yanked him to his bare chest. “I wanna see your tight body in my clothes…and I want them to smell like you when you leave.”

Stone

Stone was stuffed. He’d eaten way too much. Myra had probably intended for them to eatonemain dish tonight, then save the rest for the next couple of days. But instead they’d sampled most of each dish and both desserts.

They’d talked for several hours about their lives, their families, losing loved ones. And the more they did, the more Stone came to respect and desire Royal. They were alike in more ways than he’d realized.

While Stone worked the land and Royal worked in an office, they both used work as their way of escaping the loneliness—in Stone’s case, the grief—in their world.

After dinner, Stone gave Royal the full tour of his cabin. He suggested they go back to bed, but his date had pulled him into the den and insisted he show him how to turn on his state-of-the-art entertainment system.

Now, they were laid out on the oversized sectional, watching some ridiculous show Royal was obsessed with.

Stone hated television—despite the fact he had an eighty-six-inch big screen—but he was complying because Royal was curled up in his arms, looking content and warm with the quilt pulled over his lap.

“Is the series almost done?” Stone rumbled, nuzzling his mouth behind Royal’s ear.

He shuddered in his arms before he turned and gazed up at him through his long lashes.

“We’ve watched one episode.” He grinned. “No, the series is not over.”

“Tell me again why we’re watchingVikings?”

“Because apparently this is one of the top-rated series this year.” Royal shrugged. “I watched the pilot and now I’m hooked. It’s good, just keep watching.”

I want you back in bed. Now!

Stone rumbled and nipped Royal’s cheek.

“Ow, stop.” Royal popped him on his arm, “Pay attention.”

Again, he didn’t smile, but he felt like he was on the inside. To him that was a damn good start.

He draped one arm around Royal’s shoulder, the weight of his body pressed into his as he settled into the rare comfort of being so close to someone. Royal’s warmth against his chest was a balm as the snow fell thick and relentless until it was a white haze outside the window.

Royal’s hand rested on his chest, his fingers tracing small circles in his hair. It was the most relaxing touch he’d felt in so long and he wanted to stay in this moment forever.

But his phone buzzed on the end table, a sharp, insistent vibration that shattered the serenity between them. He picked it up, trying not to jostle Royal as he stared at the screen.

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