Page 39 of Spring Breakup
“The ghosts of Rosie and Leo are strong up there.”
Tyler was surprised by that. He’d assumed Dean had spent the night with them often enough that sleeping in their bed would have been no big deal.
“Oh. Well, if that’s making you uncomfortable, you could sleep”—Tyler almost saidwith mebut stumbled on the words—“in the living room. Or we could see if Brooks would let us wash the bedding. She mentioned using her washer and dryer. If that’s what’s bothering you.” Tyler’s cheeks heated at the implications around dirty bedding.
His gaze wandered over Dean’s plain black T-shirt. It was damp where Tyler had come all over it. Dean squeezed his fingers, and Tyler jerked their hands apart.
“You should nap. I should too,” Tyler said faintly. Dean was watching him very closely. Everything was spiraling out of Tyler’s control.
“Even though we just woke up?”
“Yep. But not together! We don’t need to nap… together.”
“Loud and clear, there, angel,” Dean said, laughing.
“Why do you call me that?” Tyler asked. Dean held out his hand, obviously asking for help up, so Tyler assisted.
They had to stop touching, though. It was screwing with Tyler’s brain. Luckily, Dean didn’t hold on any longer than it took to get to his feet.
“I call you that because when I’m turning you on, you look shocked like an angel who’s been corrupted.” Dean advanced on him and lightly touched his cheek. “All innocent and pure, fighting your better nature.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over Tyler’s neck, the softest touch. Tyler’s skin woke up, and he gasped. “I want to corrupt you, Tyler,” Dean whispered.
“You’re seducing me?” Tyler asked. It was hard to tell with Dean. He sort of oozed sex appeal, and Tyler didn’t want to mix messages. Clarification was good.
“Yes. Is it working?”
Tyler wasn’t sure about the pet name, but he loved Dean’s explanation of it. “Round two?”
Dean nodded decisively, his nose tickling Tyler’s neck. “Round two.”
Round two happened on the pretty leather sofa, which did lead to naps in separate beds. Round three was a rough, halfhearted affair after fueling up and watching reality TV on Tyler’s laptop into the evening.
By nightfall, Tyler’s skin felt shocked with beard burn, his body ached from tensing so hard during his orgasms, and his brain was as calm as the eye of a storm. He sent Dean to bed upstairs with a smile and slept like the dead.
* * *
Dean was sketchingTyler in his brain while they lounged in the hot tub the next day. It was a red flag. A dire warning of bad things to come.
Like real feelings, feelings stronger than infatuation or lust.
He traced Tyler’s lips with his eyes. They were dry from the cold weather. His hair was damp but not wet from the hot tub’s steam. His neck was bitable and long and dusted with stubble.
Heavy trucks and machinery thundered down the road, working on removing the avalanche debris—a constant reminder that they weren’t alone out there, that their solitude was false.
They’d been slow to start their day after yesterday’s sex marathon, the sexual tension a low simmer, rather than a boiling pot. Dean was sore and out of marathon shape. He’d carb-loaded for breakfast and lunch, then suggested a dip in the hot tub to recover from the day before.
“Do you know what I hate about vacation? It’s just a too-short intermission,” Tyler said, leaning his head back on the edge of the hot tub. “Like a reprieve from real life, real time. Don’t you think?”
Dean had been clocking time using the avalanche as the key. Post-avalanche. It was day three PA. But the arrangement with Tyler had recalibrated his entire system. There was BT and AT now. Before Tyler and After Tyler.
After Tyler had kissed him. After Tyler had come so beautifully, so spectacularly in his hand. He didn’t know how he’d return to Before Tyler once the avalanche was cleared, once they returned home. He was worried he’d be using Tyler time for weeks to come.
How quickly the tables had turned.
“I do, and I don’t,” Dean said, carefully. Tyler was letting Dean rub his calf, steam rising around them. “It feels as if time doesn’t matter because we’re just stuck here waiting, but it also feels like each moment matters a whole lot.”
Tyler frowned slightly like he didn’t agree. Which he probably didn’t. Dean was a break for him. A rebound. A distraction from the monotony of their spoiled vacation.
Dean had learned some things about Tyler in the last three days. He’d learned that Tyler’s brain did in fact run on a hamster wheel during sex, and the fun part was figuring out how to use that to their advantage. He’d learned that Tyler went nuts for rough and hard but melted into goo if you kissed the back of his neck. He’d learned that Tyler was able to spout random facts within seconds of orgasm, and that he snorted when he truly laughed.
