Page 11

Stone

Stone had been watching Royal from a distance as he moved throughout his space, his heart beating louder than the sound his axe made hitting wood.

Royal walked with such sensual grace, caressing the sleek surfaces as if he were reading their history.

Stone wasn’t one for showing vulnerability, had never thought much about telling anyone how much each piece he made touched his soul—but there was Royal, standing in the middle of it, gazing at them as though he could see all of him in each grain and knot..

Royal had paused in front of one his recent favorite pieces, a massive china cabinet, its form so detailed it almost seemed to breathe. Those manicured fingers traced the cabinet’s muscular frame, massaging the deep groves, the gentle curves, as if he were searching for the pulse.

“This is incredible,” he said, his voice, quiet and reverent. “I can almost feel you in this piece.”

Stone swallowed, his throat dry, his body taut with restraint, but he’d given up and approached Royal from behind.

“It’s like you. So strong and beautiful. Demanding to be seen, not heard. A sight that speaks for itself, that speaks volumes without uttering a sound.” Royal spoke like a fucking poet.

The words Stone wanted to say tangled on his tongue as he crowded Royal from behind.

He’d been in his shop for fifteen minutes and somehow, he’d nailed how Stone felt about his work. How he’d poured so much of himself into it—his heart, his sweat, his entire being—but hearing Royal say it, seeing the admiration in his brown eyes made the hardness inside him weaken.

“Thanks,” he gritted, his voice rough like the scrape of a saw through bark.

Royal turned in his arms and gazed up at him through his thick honey-brown lashes. He stared at him as if he weren’t seeing a rugged, toughened-hands, lumberjack, but the man beyond that, the one he was deep inside.

For the first time in years, Stone felt real yearning.

He wrapped his hands around Royal’s wrists, and pulled them upwards, making his palms drag up his chest, knowing he could feel the pounding of his heart, but it didn’t stop him.

He draped Royal’s arms over his shoulders and linked his slender fingers together behind his neck before he lowered his hands to Royal’s hips. He tugged them closer, not stopping until his hardness was pressing into Royal’s stomach.

Royal’s lips parted as if he were surprised to feel how turned-on he’d made him. His fingers played in the hair at the nape of his neck before he lowered his head down until their foreheads touched.

Stone cupped Royal’s cheek, brushing his thumb over his supple skin, so careful and tender as if he might scratch him if he rubbed too hard.

He leaned in slowly, and Royal did the same, meeting him halfway. Their lips brushed, tentative at first, a gentle touch of warmth, as delicate as a snowflake landing on a winter’s night. Then the quietest exhalation before the connection intensified.

He pressed his mouth to Royal’s in a way that spoke of years spent waiting for just the right person to see him. Stone let go and fell all the way in. Royal’s lips were so tender, and submissive against his own, allowing Stone to guide the passion deeper.

He glided his other hand up Royal’s back, treasuring the lean muscles of his body—Royal fit him perfectly—the heat of his skin through his sweater.

Stone tilted his head, and with his hand still on Royal’s jaw, he coaxed him in the other direction ready to take their tender exploration to the next level when—

“My, my, my, we did not mean to interrupt,” a female voice cut in before Stone could taste Royal’s true flavor.

You gotta be fuckin kidding me.

Royal pulled back but he couldn’t go far wedged between Stone and the huge cabinet.

Stone turned and tried his best not to give the town’s two official queens of gossip an evil glare.

“Aimee, Edna, what are you doing here?” Stone asked around a clenched jaw.

“Oh, well, I wanted to come by and pick up my order.” Aimee giggled, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief, indicating how eager she was to share the scene she’d just interrupted with the town.

She was wearing her usual loud floral print pants suit and high-heeled, white boots—that were terribly out of season but were all she owned—mirrored her lively personality.

Her ever-loyal accomplice, Edna, was the town’s historian, but she never told stories of the founding families or when their city hall was built, not unless something scandalous was attached to it.

Stone gritted his teeth. “You just put the order in last week, Aimee. You thought I finished a coffee table in eight days. Besides, you said it wanted it the week after New Years.”

“Of course not,” Edna piped up, “What she meant to say was, she’s checking on it, not picking up.”

Edna didn’t stand out as much in her basic white blouse, dark red corduroy pants, and sensible black snow boats, but her sharp wit and keen observation kept the gossip mill turning.

The two were an inseparable, incorrigible pair whose laughter echoed through the streets as they swapped entertaining stories about their neighbors, town events, and oh yes…tourists.

Stone stood in front of Royal, blocking him from view, but Aimee wasn’t having that.

“Um, Royal, is that you back there, honey?” she cooed.

Royal cleared his throat and inched to the side to step out of Stone’s shadow. Stone had an instant urge to grab him, tuck him back under his arm, and holler, ‘No! He’s mine!’

“Good afternoon.”

Royal’s cheeks were tinged red as if he’d been hit in the face with a couple snowballs.

“Hi,” Aimee and Edna sang in unison.

“I guess this was poor timing on our part.” Aimee winked.

Mmhmm. Stone knew they’d timed it perfectly.

There was no judgement in their stares, only the excitement of new, juicy gossip. And since it involved him, they’d hype it up as if they had the scoop of the decade.

“We’ve only gotten glimpses of you in town but haven’t had the chance to chat with ya.” Edna extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to have you in Windeville. Must be a far cry from…Manhattan, is it?”

Stone was sure they knew all this already.

Royal nodded. “Um, yes, it’s different, but in a good way.”

Aimee beamed, all bright white veneers. “So when you plan on heading back?”

Stone’s heart speed up to a pace that had to be medically dangerous. If Royal was planning on leaving any time soon, he didn’t want to hear it.

“Edna, Aimee, you know I’m closed on Sundays.” Stone began to usher them back towards the door. “I’ll be sure to send you an email when your order is ready,” he ground out, “like I always have for the last twenty years.”

“But wait,” Edna stuttered. “I want to invite Royal to dinner next Saturday night.”

“He already has plans.” Stone muttered then closed his door on their protest.

“But it’s spaghetti and meatballs night!” she hollered through the heavy wood.

He could hear their annoying cackles as they walked away. If those two hadn’t been his mother’s best friends, he would’ve given them a piece of his mind.

Stone pushed his fingers into his throbbing temples as he leaned back against the door.

Royal walked towards him, not stopping until they were joined again.

“They were harmless,” he whispered, brushing his satiny cheek alongside his beard.

It felt so damn good he wanted to groan. His beard had always been one of his most sensitive areas.

Stone closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

“Harmless is the last thing they are,” he rumbled, gripping Royal’s lean hips and pulling him tighter to him. “Don’t be surprised if a description of our kiss makes the front page of the Windeville Observer .”

Royal chuckled. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I don’t.” Stone said with seriousness.

Royal hummed, his smile fading as he tilted his head higher, begging silently.

Stone gave him what he wanted, what they both wanted.

He slanted his mouth over Royal’s and delved inside, feeling a preamble was no longer needed. Their kiss was urgent but still so tender, their mouths fitting into place like two pieces of a puzzle.

Royal melted into him and he held Stone’s face as he weaved his smooth fingertips through his beard, and it was all it’d taken to be his undoing.

A rush of warmth flooded his body and grew into a wildfire that slammed into his balls. His hardening dick nudged Royal’s abdomen, unable to stop himself from chasing that rush of release.

Royal moaned into his mouth, and fuck it tasted as sweet as he knew it would.

Stone wanted to back Royal up and slam his body onto the nearest flat surface and spread him wide open. But despite his hunger and the many years he’d gone without, he wouldn’t treat Royal as if he wasn’t worth more than a quick rut.

He stilled his hips, then gripped Royal’s to stop his. The feel of his cock stabbing into his thigh made it almost impossible, but he’d done it.

“Don’t, Stone. Don’t stop.”

Fuuuck me. Stone groaned so long and loud it made his throat sore. He wasn’t used to begging, no man had craved him as much as Royal was doing right then.

“Trust me, I’m not stopping, beautiful,” he growled. “Just pausing.”

Their breaths were ragged, as they rested their foreheads against each other’s, their noses brushing.

Royal framed Stone’s face with his hands, and he couldn’t resist placing a tender kiss in one of his palms. He’d never felt hands that tender in all his life.

“This is all new to me,” Royal confessed, his voice sounding light and full of amazement. “I’m not one to let my feelings get the better of me. I’ve always been about business, and I thought nothing else in life mattered.”

Stone closed his eyes as Royal ran his hands over his scruffy cheeks, igniting erotic sensations that only made his cock scream for him to go back to thrusting.

“But you…” Royal exhaled. “You make me want, Stone.”

Stone grunted as Royal wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug so tight it took his breath.

“My nights were always so lonely and cold,” he sighed, sounding exhausted. “I thought I was okay with it. But I’m not.”

“I know,” he agreed hoarsely. “Believe me, I know.”

Royal gave him a chaste, lingering kiss on his lower jaw, and whispered. “No more, okay…no more cold and lonely winter nights, for either of us.”