Page 7 of Bear with Me
"Did you look at the room service menu?"
"I was too busy searching for my pajamas, but I would love some meatless nachos, if that's an option." I slid my wallet from my inner jacket pocket and handed him my credit card. "Dinner's my treat. I'm really sorry about earlier."
He grunted. "No worries."
"No, really, I had a horrible day, and I took it out on everyone. You, the flight attendant, that really sweet older gentleman who used me as a pillow." I shuddered as I remembered the trail of drool from his mouth to my lapel. "We'll make it through tonight, and then I won't bother you for the rest of your vacation, I promise."
"It's no bother," he insisted, those warm brown eyes piercing something deep within me and making me feel seen for the first time since my parents died. "I don't mind the company."
I fucking minded, but so far, Ollie had been compassionate, and he certainly wasn't hard to look at. With a tight-lipped grin, I made my way to the bathroom, and Ollie disappeared into the bedroom with his suitcases.
So far, this vacation sucked, but I couldn't forget its purpose. I was here to get my life back under control. Here, I would develop a plan to become the man my sister wanted to visit, Vic wanted to hang around, and someone like Ollie would want to date.
The first thing I should have done was stop fantasizing about tying him up in my bedroom, yet those thoughts returned when the warm water cascaded over my back. His scent lingered in the steam: cedar, spice, and musk. My body responded immediately, my cock jutting out toward the wall and my ass growing wetter than with water alone.
What was worse, coming in the shower or leaking all over Ollie's clothes? With a handful of shower gel, I stroked my cock fast and hard. I sank two fingers into my aching hole, desperate for a quick release so my cabin mate wouldn't know. There was no way he'd gotten off in the short time it had taken me to freak out about my pajamas. I was trying to be considerate. At least, that was my thought when I came all over the wall.
I sprayed it with the removable shower head until all evidence ran down the drain. Yep, definitely taking morning showers from now on.
CHAPTER 5
OLLIE
I ordered fried mushrooms,loaded potato skins, and cheese curds to go with Blake's meatless nachos. He'd said no meat but nothing about cheese, so I hoped I didn't gross him out.
The lodge's restaurant staff were quick to answer the phone and even faster to bring us our food. Before Blake finished showering, a sharp knock at the door drew me from the bedroom.
Warring scents of Blake's arousal and our food waiting on the porch pulled my bear and me in two different directions. My bear wanted to join Blake in the shower, of course. As wonderful as he smelled, I wasn't the kind of guy who barged into shared bathrooms to offer my services.
Another sharp knock let me know the delivery person wouldn't drop and flee. I grabbed a twenty from my wallet and ventured onto the porch.
Instead of a person, I found our bag of appetizers and two black walnut shells. I walked to the end of the porch, sniffing, but the delicious food smells drew me back to the bag. If the restaurant had a tip jar, I would drop the twenty in it the next time I went to the lodge.
The porch was ice cold, but the food inside the recycled paper containers was piping hot. Some of the cold air followed me inside. I rolled the top of the bag to hold the heat in and set it on the counter between the kitchen and living room.
The cabin had central heat, but the bedroom and bathroom were much warmer than the main room, with its high ceiling and no inner walls to stuff with insulation. Without blankets, Blake would get cold fast. I flipped the flue open and added some kindling to the fireplace. In a kitchen drawer, I found a long-necked lighter, but no paper. I returned to the desk. Most places I'd stayed had stationery or sticky notes, but not this one.
My gaze landed on a notebook on the loveseat. Blake wouldn't mind if I removed a page, would he? It was a fancy bound journal, not a spiral notebook like mine, which I left at home because no way would I waste my vacation by writing my thoughts. I would write about it once I was home.
As carefully as I could, I removed a page from the back of the notebook, tearing it along the crease until it pulled free. Elated, I balled it up, flicked the safety on the lighter, and pulled the trigger. Blue flames raced over the paper, quickly turning orange as it burned. I tucked it into the kindling above the two small logs and watched it burn for a few moments. The kindling lit up nicely, and then a log caught fire, too.
I returned to the journal, flipping it back the way Blake had left it on the loveseat. A page with rows of tight black script etched across it slipped out the front. I picked it up, staring at it in disbelief. How had I torn a page from the front of the book?
The door to the bathroom creaked open, startling me so much I dropped the journal on the loveseat. A corner of the loose page folded in on itself. Shit, shit, shit.
"Hi." I backed away from the loveseat.
Blake looked damn good in my clothes. He'd tied the t-shirt into a knot at his side above his waist, displaying inchesof smooth tan skin. Below that, the loose sweatpants made his bulge even more pronounced. When he followed his nose to the food on the counter, I couldn't stop staring at the fabric hugging his peachy-perfect ass.
"This smells divine," he said. "What did you get?"
I rattled off my list of appetizers before swallowing hard. I had to tell him.
"Um, Blake?"
"Yeah?" Paper crinkled as he unwrapped our food bag and placed the containers on the counter.
"I tore a piece of paper from the back of your journal to light the fire."
