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He looked down. “Oh, well, you’re naked in a shower with me.”

“And you’re twenty-one,” Mason added.

His own cock was still snoozing, but he wasn’t going to leave his man with a hard-on, so Mason gripped Zeb’s cock and slid his foreskin back. He kissed Zeb again before pushing him against the shower wall, causing him to let out a little grunt. Mason pulled on Zeb’s cock as he claimed his mouth. He slid his other hand down his back and squeezed his ass. It was incredible, and he couldn’t wait to be inside him, but he knew they’d need to build up to that. He didn’t want Zeb to feel rushed. Mason couldn’t resist using his finger to slide it along his crease and press against his hole. Zeb moaned and thrust into Mason’s hand. The water continued to cascade over them. He’d definitely been wrong about sex in the shower; fuck efficiency.

“Oh, fuck, Mason . . . I’m so close . . . please.”

He pushed the tip of his finger inside Zeb, feeling his tight warmth. Zeb moaned into his mouth as another impressive load spilled onto Mason’s hand, and his body shuddered as he climaxed for the third time in less than an hour. Mason wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do that himself, even when he was twenty-one. That virility should have reminded him of the age gap, but it didn’t. If Zeb needed to cum several times a day, then Mason would do that for him.

Zeb looked boneless, so Mason washed him quickly, as well as himself. Once they were out of the shower, he dried them both off and got into bed. Zeb was asleep before his head hit the pillow, and it was still light outside. Mason held him in his arms. They could nap for a while, and then he’d make them dinner. They needed to talk about what happened when they went back to New York tomorrow. He wanted to make it clear to Zeb that he wanted him as his partner and he’d be moving him into his bedroom as soon as they got home, provided Zeb was ready for that. Mason would take this at the pace Zeb was comfortable with. He would not fuck it up now he had the man he loved in his arms.

CHAPTER 17

ZEB

Zeb woke up to an empty bed and panicked. Had it all been a dream? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamed about being with Mason, but this felt more real than anything before. He looked around and saw that he was in the cabin. It was dark outside. What time was it? His phone wasn’t on the bedside table. The place next to him on the bed looked like someone had been sleeping there, but it was cold. He heard the noise of dishes clinking, so he jumped out of bed and rushed into the kitchen.

Mason was cooking, wearing a pair of plaid sweats, his hairy, chiseled chest on display. Flashes of memory came to Zeb of them in the shower together. Had he dreamed that as well? Mason looked up and smiled when he saw him.

“Not that I’m complaining, but do you want to put some clothes on for dinner, sweetheart?” Mason smiled at him.

Zeb looked down and saw he was completely naked. This was worse than this morning when he was still in his underwear, or was that yesterday? He had no idea what day or time it was. All he could do was rush back into the bedroom before he died of embarrassment. He was pulling his sweats on when arms wrapped around him, and he felt Mason nuzzle his neck.

“Oh my God, it’s real,” he whispered.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

Zeb practically melted into the floor. He’d had “baby” and other terms of affection from previous partners, but they’d never sounded like that. It felt as if he mattered.

“Nothing,” he said.

Mason spun him around, his eyes intense. “If we’re going to be together, Zeb, I ask that you always be honest with me.”

“You want . . . you want us to be together?” He choked up.

Mason kissed him. It wasn’t gentle, but also not like their first kiss, full of fire. It felt commanding, like Mason was claiming him, but not like it had happened in the past, when he was just expected to submit.

“Tell me what you said, please,” said Mason.

“I woke up alone and thought I’d dreamed everything.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were fed when you woke up. I plan to take my time exploring your body later.”

He swallowed, unsure what to say. Tears stung his eyes. What the fuck was wrong with him? His dream man wanted him, and all he’d done was cry all day.

“Hey, hey . . . what’s wrong? You can tell me anything. Am I being too much?”

Zeb shook his head vehemently. “No, I’m just in my head, assuming the worst. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Mason picked him up and carried him to the bed, sitting down with Zeb on his lap. He seemed to enjoy doing that. Zeb wasn’t complaining. It felt right.

“I know you’ve had a shitty deal in life,” said Mason. “I also know I don’t know the half of it, and that’s your story to tell, if you ever want to. Just know that I’m sorry for making you wait all this time. I didn’t feel I was right for you. I’m just a grumpy middle-aged man.”

“You’re not that grumpy,” said Zeb with a smile.

Mason chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “I know it’ll take time for you to trust your heart with someone else. I’m going to do everything I can to earn that trust from you, if you’ll let me?”

Zeb wanted to say that Mason already had his heart, that he trusted him more than anyone, but the words got stuck in his throat. Something inside him told him this was too good to be true. All he could do was bury his face in Mason’s chest and nod his head. Mason peppered him with gentle kisses on his exposed skin—which was everywhere as he was still naked. His cock was hardening. He gasped as Mason’s large, callused hand wrapped around it. From years of working in the kitchen, his hands were rough yet firm. He felt Mason bite down on his neck and suck, marking him, and Zeb couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into Mason’s hand as the man took him to the edge for the fourth time today. Zeb wasn’t sure he had anything left in his balls, but as his orgasm hit him, he was surprised by how much came out.