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Wyatt takes my hand in his for only a couple seconds, but long enough to ask, “Want to walk with me back to my room?”

Is that code for something else? Otherwise, why would he ask me to come with him? I have to tread lightly here, even if I want to jump his bones.

“Sure,” I say. “I’d love to see your space. I haven’t been there since arriving.”

We both stand and push in our chairs. My legs feel weak, tremulous. I manage to follow him to his room without falling, but the stiffy between my legs is getting harder and more difficult to hide with each passing step. When we reach Wyatt’s room, he hesitates and turns to face me.

“I can’t remember if I picked up the clothes on my floor or not. Please don’t judge me,” he says, his cheeks blushing pink.

The worried expression on his face is sweet. He really cares about what I think. “It’s fine,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have a couple of days’ worth of clothes lying around my room as well.”

Wyatt opens the door to his room, and I follow him inside.

He closes it behind us, and I force myself not to look at the pair of underwear on his bed.

To his credit, he rushes over and snatches up all the errant items, tossing them into the dirty clothes basket near his bed.

“Well, this is it.” He motions with his arm toward the bedroom, living room, kitchenette, and bathroom. It’s not large, but it’s a decent size.

“Looks a lot like my living quarters,” I say.

He nods. “I believe all the staff rooms are the same, with a few minor configuration changes between them. When our fathers built this place, I was told they had a specific vision in mind. They wanted to ensure that all resident staff members were comfortable in their own space. Happy staff, happy lodge.”

“They really did an amazing job on the place. I can’t think of anything I would change about it.” Except for running it into the ground, financially speaking, but there is no way I’m going to ruin the night by talking business with Wyatt right now.

“Have a seat wherever you’d like.” Wyatt plops down on the side of the bed. His face is turned up, looking at me, his eyes expectant. Does he want me to sit next to him?

The butterflies in my belly wake up again and I stifle a shiver of excitement. Without looking around the room for a chair or sofa to sit, I step right over and sit next to him on the bed.

Ballsy , I think to myself. Inwardly, I shrug and figure if it’s not what he wants me to do, he’ll let me know. Maybe he’ll get up and change seats? Or he might give me a weird look and ask me to move. Either way, the ball is in his court. Let’s see how well he plays with it.

Without a word, Wyatt turns to face me. I hear his breathing grow shallow and I can feel the heat emanating from his body.

My dick is so hard at this point, there’s no amount of shifting that will bring me comfort.

I need to unzip my pants and release it, but how can I do that? I haven’t been given a sign.

I’m about to lose my nerve, stand, and go to the comfort and safety of my own room, when his pinky finger brushes against mine.

Without looking down, I suck in air and my heart thumps hard and fast. I return the movement, sliding my finger over his.

Despite the light touch, the heat between us intensifies.

Within seconds, I feel my shirt dampen with perspiration. I need a release.

“Finn?”

“Yes?” My voice trembles and catches in my throat.

Wyatt uses his finger to trace a line along my jaw to the tip of my chin, where he stops and turns my head to face him.

Our eyes lock and betray our need for sexual release.

I haven’t felt another man’s touch in so long, it seems like it’s been forever.

One after the other, I unbutton his shirt, until it falls open to his sides.

His chest is hairy like I’d imagined; the perfect amount to run my fingers through. To pull on it and tease him.

He looks down at his exposed chest and back to me with a smile.

As he begins unbuttoning my shirt, I pull his hands away and tear it open, the plastic buttons falling to the floor with a clatter.

Wyatt falls back against the bed, and I straddle him, lowering my ass to his already hard crotch.

I reach behind and feel his massive cock in my hand.

Even through his jeans, I can feel the ridge of his head.

Wyatt moans under my touch. His eyes are closed as he pushes his hips up against my ass.

With every fiber of my being, I want him inside me.

Leaning down, I kiss his neck, licking and sucking my way down to his chest where my tongue explores his nipples.

His hips buck again, this time harder than before.

I can tell I’m not the only one whose pants are uncomfortably tight.

Scooting down his body, inch by inch, I kiss, lick, and suck as I go. Once I reach his belt, I quickly undo it, pulling it completely out of the loops and tossing the leather strap to the floor.

“Finn,” Wyatt says, breathless and low.

I smile as I continue to work him over, massaging the muscles of his chest while teasing his belly with my tongue.

Without another second of hesitation, I unzip his pants and open the fly.

Once I reach inside, I know he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Wyatt’s thick cock pushes through the opening and reveals itself in all its glory.

The finest cock I’ve ever seen.

I take him into my hand, barely able to close my fingers around the shaft, and slide my hand up and down the length of him. My mouth waters with the expectant taste of him when he suddenly sits up and takes me by my shoulders.

“Are you okay, Wyatt?”

There is a fear in his eyes I haven’t ever seen before. I quickly stand and pull my shirt closed around me. “Wyatt?”

“I’m fine,” he says, not looking me in the eye. “I really can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I say. “No worries, man. Are you sure you’re alright?”

He nods and gets up from the bed, straightening his shirt and pants as he does. “It’s getting late and I’ve had quite the day. Maybe we can catch up later?”

Catch up later? What the hell just happened? Did I say something wrong? Do something wrong?

There is little doubt in my mind that Wyatt gave me the go-ahead to get physical.

I’m not concerned about that part. However, if this little soiree affects our working relationship, I’m going to be so screwed.

Especially when it comes time to tell everyone about the financial difficulties the lodge is facing.

“I’m really sorry if I did anything to upset you,” I say as I walk to the door, holding my ruined shirt together. I turn back, but he isn’t even looking at me.

Wyatt doesn’t say anything at first, just sits there. As I’m about to close the door behind me he says, “I’m sorry, Finn.”

I close the door and walk down the hallway to my own room. My boner is gone and I don’t feel very turned on anymore. In fact, I feel kind of sick to my stomach. Not to mention, confused.

Whatever . Some guys don’t know what they want and have trouble finding what they need.

It’ll be fine in the morning. Maybe he just had too much wine, plus the near-death experience.

I go into my room and lock the door behind me.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it reads ten o’clock.

Not too tired, but not wide awake, I settle on the idea of reading some more of my dad’s journal.

Maybe there’ll be some fatherly advice in there.