Chapter 22

"Eric, you don't have to climb up there!" I called.

Eric peered down at me from the second story of the scaffolding. He clung to the railing with a white-knuckled grip.

"I can if I want to!" he called back.

I laughed and shook my head. He was terrified of heights but insisted on going up there anyway, calling it exposure therapy.

It was Wednesday in the third week of June, a few days before Midsummer Eve. The logging company I worked with took a break this week, and the school had already closed for the summer. Eric and I had spent the past week working on the cottage. We'd stripped the facade all around and hauled the rubble to the recycling center. We'd found old clay and straw coating under the Styrofoam and had to knock it off with masks on our faces in the billowing dust.

What we uncovered wasn't that bad in the end. Only four meters of the beams would have to be replaced. It looked like the eastern corner of the cottage had been damaged by water a good four or five decades ago, possibly due to a leaking roof. The leak had been repaired, but the moisture had dried out too slowly, locked under the Styrofoam. Hence, the wood started to rot.

Peter had made Eric a very generous offer, and while suspicious about the low price, Eric had accepted it. Peter's guys began replacing the beams and wall planks yesterday and progressed faster than I'd thought they would. On the opposite side of the house, we could already start wrapping the cottage in new insulation layers.

Most days, Madde came over with lunch for us, ignoring Eric's repeated protests. Henke adopted the habit of stopping by with Selma for a few minutes every day, checking on our progress and chatting with Peter when he was around. Even the weather was on our side—the days had been sunny with only a few short rain showers here and there.

Every evening, Eric cooked feasts for me. He was quick in the kitchen and could whip up culinary masterpieces in less than half an hour. I wondered if it was a way for him to repay me. I didn't feel like he owed me anything, but hopefully, he'd figure it out on his own one day. In the meantime, to balance it out, I worshiped his cock whenever he let me. Last night, I sucked him off in the kitchen while the timer was ticking on the salmon he had in the oven.

With that in mind, I needed to get him down off the scaffolding before he exhausted himself and fell asleep on me. I wanted sex tonight.

"Eric, leave it. It's almost six already."

"I'm nearly done. Just a few more minutes."

"Madde brought cinnamon rolls, and I'm eating them all before dinner."

"Don't you dare!"

Chuckling, I headed into the cottage. I was covered with sweat and dust, so I walked straight to the bathroom and turned the shower on. I was soaped up when Eric burst into the room, tearing his T-shirt off. He dropped his pants and underwear and plastered himself to my body.

"Hi," he said and kissed me.

I dragged him under the spray with me and slathered his skin with soap. He had sawdust in his hair, so I rinsed it and added more shampoo. He kneaded my ass cheeks, humming as I washed him.

"I want to fuck you," he murmured against my wet skin.

"Then get out of here and let me prep."

"But I'm hungry too."

"That's a difficult dilemma. Don't we have some leftovers from yesterday?"

"I think so? I'll go check." He slapped my butt and stepped out of the shower to dry himself. I took a few seconds to admire his naked torso and fuzzy happy trail. He had a golden tan now. After wrapping a towel around his waist, he left me to do what I needed to.

We ate lentil soup for dinner and cinnamon rolls for dessert. Then we made love on the living room sofa.

His hands smelled of cinnamon and butter when he cupped my jaw and brushed his thumb over my parted mouth. He moved slowly inside me, his heated eyes roaming my face.

"I can't decide what I like more. The scruffy beard or the stubble." He ran his nails down my cheek and tugged on my beard as he thrust harder, making me gasp.

"I can alternate," I ground out between fucks. "Buzz it short and let it grow again."

Eric pushed on the back of my thighs and sped up. He hit my gland with the shallow thrusts. "Will you come for me without touching your dick?"

Apparently, it was something my body could do now.

I nodded, my eyesight getting a little blurry. "I'm close."

I reached for my cock automatically, but Eric caught my wrist.

"No," he said sharply.

He moved like a damned machine. His runner stamina… God. I was starting to twitch and shake, my balls tight. My cock ached for friction, but every push over my gland sent a current of bliss up my length.

Grabbing my knees, I strained to meet him, my body opening up. It ached so, so sweetly.

"Eric, Eric… Please…" I had no idea what I was begging for.

It almost hurt but not really. My cock jerked on my stomach, and I let out a loud cry.

Eric fucked me through the orgasm single-mindedly while I whimpered and groaned, coming all over myself. Without anything touching my dick, the pleasure lasted longer but had an edge of desperation to it. It left me vulnerable and needy.

Then Eric sank into me to the hilt, pumping his hips, trapping my spent cock between us, and I exhaled with relief.

"This is a dangerous precedent," Eric murmured, kissing my chest.

"What?" My brain wasn't online yet.

"You work for me all day, and then you let me fuck you."

"Two days ago, dinner, then kitchen table." He'd cooked for me, and I bent him over the table right after the meal. I remembered our balls slapping together and Eric banging his fist into the oak wood just before he came into my hand with my cock in him to the root.

"Mmhmm, true." He kissed my nipple. "That was hot too."

"I should shower, but I don't want to move."

He slowly pulled out of me, and I sighed with the loss. Patting my hip, he sat up.

"Come on. Cleanup. Then you can sleep."

Groaning, I rolled off the sofa and staggered toward the bathroom. Eric set the temperature and quickly rinsed his cock before letting me into the shower. He brushed his teeth naked by the vanity. I gazed at the elegant lines of his wiry body while I washed my cum from the hair on my belly and waited for his to trickle out of my loose ass. I used to be fine with skipping anal altogether. The hassle of cleanup before and after hadn't often been worth it.

But with Eric, everything felt different. I even enjoyed the fact I had to clean up and that slight twinge in my ass when I spread my legs to dry myself. Because he'd used my body, took pleasure from me, and I liked the reminder of that.

He spat out the toothpaste and washed his toothbrush, then gave me a tender smile.

"I'll wait for you in bed."

The bathroom door clicked shut, and I stood naked in front of the mirror. My beard was growing out again, getting bushy and sticking out in all directions. I knew myself well enough to know I would never have the patience for straighteners and oils and whatnot. I'd trim it again after Midsummer. The floor creaked upstairs as Eric climbed into bed. I hoped he stayed naked. I loved sleeping skin to skin.

I brushed my teeth and combed my fingers through my hair. Then I poked out a stray splinter from my palm. The tiny wound didn't bleed, so I didn't bother taping it.

When I came upstairs, Eric just wordlessly lifted the blanket, and I climbed in. Roping my arms around him, I kissed his hair. He threw one leg over mine, his soft cock brushing my hip.

"Goodnight," he murmured. "Thank you so much for today."

"Always my pleasure," I said.

For some reason, instead of slowing down, my heart only beat faster. Did he truly think I was sacrificing anything by working on his cottage with him? I'd never been happier in my life. I was the one who should be thanking him.

Eric bloomed as he learned new skills and saw his home getting much-needed care. And seeing his excitement, I might as well be walking on clouds. With every passing day, I only loved him more.

I wanted to live like this forever. Work by Eric's side every day, eat a simple meal, make love, and sleep with him naked in my arms, my body sore and my head muddled by love. I wouldn't need anything else.