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Before he could respond, I swallowed the head of his cock.

It was equal parts length and girth. He tasted like he smelled, a blend of earth and vanilla.

There were cocks that filled a mouth, and then there were those that filled a mouth.

Bobby was definitely the latter. As he leaned forward, working more in, I doubted I’d get to the base at this angle.

He held the back of my head, giving encouragement to try.

“Fuck,” he gasped. With his pants around his ankles, he shuffled forward. My face pressed against his fuzzy belly, and I never wanted to move. I gripped his ass, pulling him closer until his hips bucked. He started a slow retreat before sliding in until my face pressed against his stomach.

He held my head in place while he fucked my mouth.

I reached between my legs, giving my cock a tug.

The rugged man in front of me was hot enough.

His boots brushing against my feet made it nuclear.

The impromptu liaison with a local pressed every button.

If we had time, I’d love to see where else his cock fit.

I pulled off his cock, wrapping my fingers around the shaft. Try as I might, there was a gap thanks to the girth. Okay, that was hot, too. I wanted to feel that shoved inside of me. Rose and Edward would need to have gone to the market in New Hampshire before I could take this monster.

I continued stroking my cock when he took a step back. “Don’t come,” he said. It felt somewhere between a command and a request. He gave his cock a few jerks, and I thought we’d finish with some mutual masturbating.

Bobby got to his knees. Any thought he might be a straight man exploring a fantasy went out the window. He kissed with an eagerness that made me want him even more. I hadn’t had a man feverishly kiss like that since under the bleachers in high school.

It ended when he put a hand on my chest and pushed me onto my back on the bed.

Before I could lift my head, he pushed my cock against my belly and kissed along my thighs to my testicles.

Like his hands, his tongue felt coarse as he dragged it back and forth.

The tip traced a line along the underside of my cock until he reached the head.

Bobby wasted no time diving down until I hit the bend of his throat.

“Holy shit,” I gasped. Yup, this wasn’t his first blowjob.

He sped up and down, circling his fingers to add pressure.

I leaned my head back and enjoyed the sensation.

Every few strokes, he’d reach the base, burying his face in my groin.

I let out a low growl. He’d pull off, gasping for air just long enough to return to my cock.

It had been years since somebody made me come like this, but Bobby had a gift and got me close. I envied men who came from a blow job. With his vigor, he wanted me to come, and I had a good idea where he wanted it.

“If I had time…” He must have read my mind.

“Next time,” I mumbled.

I reached down, jerking my cock while his lips hovered near the head. We didn’t have time to see if he could bring me to a climax. He watched as I stroked, his tongue darting out, lapping at the tip. I picked up the pace, hoping we reached the end before we heard stirring in the kitchen.

“I’m close.” His lips parted.

I sped up, our eyes locking. As the electricity shot through my body, my hips bucked.

I didn’t need to announce the orgasm. Bobby dove on my cock, swallowing each pulse.

His eyes remained fixed, watching as my face contorted with pleasure.

The gasps were silent, not wanting to announce to the entire town I had been serviced by the local handyman.

The orgasm hadn’t subsided when he stood, a line of precum ready to drip from the tip of his cock. I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to return the favor. Pushing off the bed, I got to my knees and guiding his cock into my mouth.

“I’m close,” he warned.

It didn’t deter me. I held his thighs, bobbing up and down on his cock.

Each time I swallowed, the hair on his belly brushed my forehead before I pulled back.

Bobby held the sides of my head and rocked his hips back and forth.

His pace quickened as the growl started in the back of his throat.

His legs tensed and shook, a precursor to??—

“Fuck,” he whispered. His cock thickened, and I tasted the salt on the back of my tongue. As his grip loosened, I started a slow up-and-down motion, milking him. He shuddered, and I considered it a job well done. I could keep nursing on that??—

“We’re home,” came Rose’s voice.

Bobby’s cock fell out of my mouth as he shuffled his way to his shirt.

I stifled a laugh at the speed he shimmied across the room with his overalls around his ankles.

Pulling it over his head, he quickly pulled up his overalls.

I didn’t mind the view of him bent over.

I figured our tryst had ended, and we’d go back to casual strangers.

He finished snapping his clothes into place.

When he went for his tool belt, he shot me a quick grin.

“Thanks,” he said. He gave me a kiss that held as much urgency as the first.

He put on his tool belt and headed out of the room.

“Good news, Rose. I took care of everything that needed taking care of.”

I stifled a laugh. Yes. Yes, he did.

Now I needed to get dressed before Rose popped in offering… what exactly did they

The temperature had dropped with the sun.

Rose had cooked pork chops while she explained how the pigs at the Johnson family farm were far more delicious than those at the Stephen’s farm.

I couldn't argue—it was the best home-cooked meal I had in years.

Somewhere in the conversation, I learned how Cecilia Johnson married Johnny Stevens, putting the kibosh on a generation-old rivalry. Thanksgiving remained tense.

I dropped to my knees, lighting a match and shielding it from the breeze.

On my third attempt, I got the flame under the log before it blew out.

Grrr. I had brought out a glass and my favorite bourbon, hoping for a night staring into the flame.

I’d have to settle for the bedroom and putting a fireplace on my tablet.

All day, I walked the property, from the fallen stone wall to the wooden fence meant to keep deer at bay.

The isolation felt… unsettling. In New York, I couldn’t sit in my apartment without hearing the neighbors or the door buzzer ringing.

The city always encroached. Here, I lived inside my head and got reacquainted with myself.

While unnerving, it brought a sense of liberation.

Tomorrow, I’d expand my horizons and venture into town.

Another match, another failure.

“There’s a trick to it.”

Edward had snuck up on me, wearing a dark blue bathrobe and holding a steaming coffee mug.

The fire pit and Adirondack chairs were a football field away from the house.

Beyond the barn, we stood where the field reached its peak and dipped into a valley.

As the sun vanished, the darkness rushed in, ready to consume the town.

“I’m anything but an outdoorsman.”

Edward laughed, a hearty sound, as he reached into his robe pocket. He produced a canister of lighter fluid and gave it a shake. “An outdoorsman knows when to cheat.”

“Lesson learned.”

He damn near emptied it on the logs. When I handed him the matchbox, he gave it an expert flick and dropped it onto the logs. In a blaze, the kindling ignited, and we had a fire. As if it were programmed into our DNA, we stood in silence, admiring our handiwork.

“I’ll leave you be,” he said.

“You’re more than welcome to join me. That’s if you don’t mind drinking bourbon neat?” I gestured to the bottle sitting on the arm of the chair.

“A younger version of me would drink you under the table.” His words held a sense of nostalgia as he drifted between the now and then. Did the thought of whiskey remind him of drinks with Rose during their courtship? “See that mountain off in the distance?”

The sun had all but vanished, and I squinted, not sure if what I saw was a mountain. “I think so.”

“Mt. Katahdin. She's a beauty but quite the beast. In my younger years, I used to hike to the peak.” I had a feeling Edward had a tale he wanted to share.

“There are trails just past the field that will take you there.” His voice held a sadness, as if strolling down memory lane came with achy joints. “Ever hear of trail magic?”

I wouldn't be shocked to discover they were part of a nudist cult that served cupcakes after worshipping the moon. I shook my head. “Can’t say I have.”

“The Appalachian Trail’s a rough hike. Things go wrong.

Sleeping bags get damaged and boots destroyed.

I’ve been chased by moose more times than I can count.

Just when you’re ready to throw in the towel, you find trail magic.

” He rested a hand on my shoulder. Perhaps I needed more time in the wilderness to understand what he meant.

“What is it?”

“As Mother Nature tries her darnedest to beat you down, you find a pack of crackers dangling from a low-hanging branch. Socks. Dry, warm wool socks with no holes. You reach your shelter for the night to find another hiker cooking a can of Spaghetti-Os, and they offer a can. Trail magic is when kindness provides fuel for the soul.”

“I see.” In the city, we avoided eye contact for fear of confrontation. Here, some invisible strand brought out people’s humanity. I didn’t know why, but the idea of paying it forward made me smile.

“We find trail magic when we need it most.” His fingers tightened on my shoulder before he gave it a light pat. “Keep your eyes open, son.”

I listened as Edward’s steps vanished into the grass, leaving the hush of rustling leaves.

Did he know the reason I came to Firefly?

Had I kept to myself as Rose insisted on another helping of mashed potatoes?

I’m sure if they stopped by the grocery store, they’d have seen my photo plastered on the front page of a tabloid.

Settling into the chair, I poured myself three fingers of bourbon and raised the glass.

Right now, I could use a bit of magic from the universe.

Perhaps it'd do my career some good. “To trail magic.” Notes of pine and leather hit my tongue before leaving a fruity aftertaste. I swirled the liquid, staring through the glass to the fire beyond. The bottom of my feet warmed by the fire, the heat creeping up my legs as I thought about Edward’s words.

At first, I focused on work and how trail magic could turn around my situation.

Then I thought about this morning and the towel slipping from around my waist. I could blame it on gravity, or perhaps the universe gave me what I needed most. Who was I to say no when it provided a sexy bear willing to get naked?

Work became a fleeting memory as I imagined the intensity of Bobby’s green eyes.

“My eyes are open,” I whispered, the warmth of the fire washing over my legs. The words were swallowed by the darkness and drowned out by the crackle of the fire.