Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Shane

He'd given way to Milo's insistence and packed almost everything he owned. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see that Milo would be more comfortable in his new home.

The kitchen was stocked with what cutlery and crockery Shane possessed and the rest of the cabin had Shane's things scattered about. His boots and best axe by the doorway. His coats and baseball caps hung up on half of the wall mounted hooks. He'd brought over every damn blanket and sheet he owned.

There was enough firewood to keep the fireplace burning around the clock for the rest of the week.

Shane never wanted to see Milo cold again.

Milo tried to lead him to the sofa, his eyes already pinned on one of the handmade quilts, but Shane steered them elsewhere. "Nah, this way. Got a surprise for you."

Shane guided Milo into the bedroom.

It was doused in a soft and alluring yellow-orange light. Firelight. Lantern light. The bedroom fireplace crackled gently while a kerosene lantern glowed softly on top of a wooden crate.

Directly in front of the fire sat a wooden rocking chair with a bear fur blanket thrown across it. The chair had been made by Shane's own hands. He hadn't shot the bear, that'd been the work of Shane's grandpappy. Both the family heirloom and Shane's handicraft were heartfelt decorations, the only touches that were personal rather than practical.

At the center of the room was a mattress padded with spread-out sleeping bags and piled high with more blankets.

"It ain't much," Shane said, "but all I have I want to share with you."

Shane had made up the bedroom with no untoward intentions. He'd done it only to make Milo happy. No, more than that. He wanted to be happy with Milo. To share in such sweet optimism even if the small voice in the back of his head screamed in fear over a dozen dark what-ifs.

Milo's bright nature had a way of beating back all those shadowy doubts and inky fears.

A smile already played upon Shane's lips as he watched Milo let out a happy gasp, those big brown eyes sparked with even greater life than usual. They smoldered gold in the low light cast by the fire.

"Thank you. I love it so much. This is more than a surprise, this is a gift. The best gift anybody has ever given me." It was high praise and each word was genuine, laced with gentle affection that made an already warm room start to feel hot. Milo faced Shane with a grin so wide it took up his whole face.

Shane was overwhelmed by that enticing spread of Milo's soft pink lips. How could a boy so small make Shane feel swallowed whole? He glanced down at the floor and nodded his head. "Glad you like it."

"Come with me," Milo encouraged with a squeeze of Shane's hand. That time, when Milo took the lead, Shane followed without trying to change their course. He let the boy take him right to bed.

* * *

It all started with a touch. Slow. Soft. Little more than a whisper in physical form.

Milo placed his palm on top of Shane's knee, his good knee, and leaned in so close that their two forms became one as they sat on the edge of the mattress together. The rest of the world was shut away after closing the door to the bedroom.

Not even Pumpkin was there to witness Milo cuddling up to Shane.

There was no one and nothing between the two men. The pleasant crackle of the fire overpowered the roar of the wind outside and Milo's candied voice blocked out Shane's bitter inner critic.

"You're so tense. It's okay. You're okay. I'm okay. We'll take it slow and if you want to stop, we'll stop. Unless…do you want to stop?"

Shane didn't know what he wanted, not exactly, but he did know he wanted Milo. He knew that deep in his bones. His heart. Even in his cock. Shane swallowed hard with that realization, shifting a little as the front of his jeans began to tent.

He had a hell of a time digging up his own words, so Shane borrowed Milo's ample reassurance to make up for his lack. "I don't want you to stop," he said.

But Shane could do one better than merely parrot Milo's words back at him.

He could show Milo his red-hot want and prove his aching desire. Showing was a better deed than telling. Shane had always been a man of action.

He wrapped his fingers around Milo's bird-bone wrist and guided it upward, off his knee and toward his groin. Milo picked up on Shane's intention halfway through. There was no awkwardness or hesitation as he put Milo's hand on his erection.

"Oh." Milo's mouth matched the shape of the sound. His pretty, pert, and pink mouth. They were already close and Shane leaned in even closer.

Shane had a target and he went for it. He closed his eyes, but Shane didn't know what to do with his hands. Or his breath. Or his tongue. All he knew was that he wanted to taste Milo.

Despite Shane's inexperience, it came naturally and it felt easy. Milo was sweet against him, open and accepting, he shifted and wrapped one arm loosely around Shane's neck.

The kiss deepened and time stretched on. Milo's palm rolled across the bulge under Shane's jeans, fanning the flames of Shane's lust.

All thought disappeared, and any concern about the rest of the world vanished.

It was only him. It was only Milo. It was only the two of them together.

When they finally broke for air, both of them were breathless but Milo was faster on the recovery.

"Have you done this before?" Milo asked softly as he continued to palm Shane's cock. "Some high school sweetheart from back in the day? A woman, maybe?"

"No. I don't…I haven't. Not with any girl. Not with..."

The honesty scratched at his throat. Fuck. How was he supposed to voice his desire when he couldn't even spit out the right words?

"Not with anyone?" Gentle understanding dawned across Milo's pretty face.

Suddenly everything felt like too much. The fireplace was too bright and the press of Milo's body against him was too warm. Hot, even. In both senses of the word. The rise in the boy's body temperature was directly linked to how attractive Shane found Milo.

How much he wanted, no, how much he needed this boy's sunshine in his life. How could he ever go back to the cold and the dark now that he'd basked in Milo's light?

Shane had to swallow his pride before he could pry the truth off his tongue.

"No," he confirmed. Reluctantly. What man over forty wanted to admit to still being a virgin? "Not ever. No women or other men. Nobody."

Shane shook his head. It was a hard thing to talk about. He'd been tracking back into the past and dragging it into the future every day of his life. Holding onto old grudges, refusing to let old wounds heal because he couldn't stop picking at the figurative scab.

"None of that shit matters now," Shane decided. "You're the only boy for me."

Resolution welled up within him at that exact moment. He leaned in closer to Milo, attracted to the heat radiating through the younger man's pajamas like a moth to a flame.

Shane wanted to feel that heat without any barrier between them.

They helped each other shed their clothes. A flurry of cotton and flannel and denim fell to the wooden floor as fast as the snowflakes fell in the woods outside.

Kissing came easier as Shane's tongue left shyness behind. He only stopped to drink up the tantalizing sight of Milo stripped bare. All that pale skin ready to be kissed and licked. Shane wanted to lavish every inch of this boy's body with loving touches.

Being naked with Milo, basking in their dual vulnerability, allowed Shane to indulge in his curiosity and explore his newly awakened desires. Shane used his rough hands to map Milo, learning all the spots that made Milo laugh or gasp. He wanted to hear all of Milo's sounds. He wanted everything from Milo.

They fell against each other and fell back into bed, sharing breath and swapping spit.

The past was the past. There'd been no lover before Milo and as far as Shane was concerned there'd be no lover after Milo.

It was Milo.

Only Milo.