Page 24 of Thin Ice

"You put on four layers," he said.

"You said dress warm."

"Warm. Not climbing Everest warm."

The flannel came off. Then the thermal, and the cold air hit my skin for half a second before his hands replaced it. Palms flat on my stomach, sliding up over my ribs, warm and rough with calluses.

"God," he said, low. "Come here."

He pulled me onto him. His back against the cabin wall, me in his lap, my knees on either side of his hips on the bench, and the angle put us face to face, chest to chest, and I felt all of his dick through his jeans.

God.

He kissed me deep and rolled his hips up once, slow, deliberate, and I grabbed his shoulders.

"Off," I said, pulling at his shirt. "This is — you have to — off."

He stripped his shirt one-handed, grabbing the back of the collar and his chest was there. Broad, dark hair trailing from his sternum down, the shoulders I'd watched pull a boat for years before I was allowed to touch them. I put my mouth on his collarbone and felt the sound he made vibrate against my lips.

His hands went to my belt. Undid it with the efficiency of a man who'd been thinking about this step. Button. Zipper. His hand slid inside and wrapped around my dick through my boxers and my forehead dropped to his shoulder.

"Liam."

"Yeah?"

"Anything you want. Whatever you want tonight."

His hand stilled. I felt his breath change against the top of my head.

"You mean that?"

"I always mean it with you."

He was quiet for a second. His hand started moving again, slow, stroking my dick up and down, and I bit down on his shoulder to keep the sound in, and he said, into the top of my hair, in the voice that drops below his normal register.

"Get on your knees."

I did what he told me.

The blanket was soft under me. The heater was warm against my back. Above me Liam looked down with those dark eyes and his jaw tight and his chest bare, and his hand came to the side of my face, gentle.

"You're sure," he said.

"Anything."

That got the grin. Then his hand slid to the back of my neck, and the grin softened into want, and he undid his jeans one-handed and lifted his hips, and I helped pull them down, boxers with them, and his dick was right there, hard, the head slick, and I wrapped my hand around the base and looked up at him.

"Tell me how you want it."

"Slow," he said. "Start slow. Take your time."

I took my time.

I kissed the inside of his thigh first, because I'd learned it made him twitch, and then the crease where his hip met his leg. His hand tightened on the back of my neck but he didn't push. I ran my tongue flat along the underside of his dick, base to tip, slow, and the sound he made filled the whole cabin, low and rough.

I took the head in my mouth and his hips came up off the bench. I could taste his salty pre-cum and it made my dick throb.

"Fuck — "