Page 3 of Hot Ice, Tennessee (Hard Spot Saloon #2)

3

MASON

“Now I’m the one who shouldn’t be trusting you ,” Jesse said from behind as we walked into my house. “You take me back to your house and there’s no electricity? Should I be scared?”

I snorted. “Fuck off.”

“Is tomorrow’s headline actually going to be TNU Hockey Center Jesse Sanocki found dead on a horse ranch in Bestens? ”

“No, it’s going to be Mason Minton can’t get rid of his friend’s egotistical younger brother. I don’t need anybody to hold my hand. ”

“Hey, I ain’t holding your hand,” he said. “That’s third base, at least.”

He reached his hands up at the end of the entryway, stretching his arms up above the archway. Even in the unlit house, I could see his muscled arms.

“Not even going to ask what first base is,” I mumbled, turning the other way and heading toward the kitchen.

“Gagging on my cock.”

“Shut up ,” I said.

“I’m just saving you from becoming a freak lightning-strike statistic.”

I’d decided that I hated 21-year-olds.

I looked around in the low light, flipping more light switches even though I knew it was futile. “Sometimes the power is out for a couple of hours if a storm is bad enough. Let me go find some candles.”

“Candlelight. How romantic.”

“Only the best for you, Daddy,” I tossed back at him.

It was supposed to be a joke, but instead of coming out as a bitter barb, it ended up sounding… hot.

Hot in a way that I definitely didn’t want to feel right now.

“Quit calling me that,” he said. “Don’t need a hard cock right now when you’re not going to let me use it.”

I hate him.

Why can’t he just go home?

It was hard enough to be around him in the bar without being turned on by every goddamn thing he did or said.

But now that we were alone together… even when he was joking around, his low voice was so sexy I practically wanted to gnaw on my own fist. I wanted him to get the fuck out of here before I slipped up, dropped my guard, and did something that I’d regret.

I’d decided that whatever version of me thought that I wasn’t attracted to younger guys was colossally fucking stupid, too. If he wasn’t related to Kane, I was pretty sure I’d want him to fuck me just from the sound of his voice. Somehow, he had my favorite kind of BDE: Big Daddy Energy, even at 21. Most guys twice his age barely had his calm confidence.

Hell, he had the other kind of BDE, too. Big dick energy, which was…

No.

Banned.

Note to self: shove every last thought like that where the fucking sun don’t shine.

I popped on the flashlight on my phone and walked into the kitchen. I always kept big candles around for outages and because I liked my place to smell like goddamn vanilla-scented heaven, and it made me feel like I was in a spa. I found a few of the nicest ones and lit them, scattering them around the kitchen.

I quickly ran upstairs to change into dry clothes, then came back down to find Jesse still gawking around the kitchen.

“Shit,” Jesse said, looking all around. “Well, if we do end up murdering each other, at least it’s in a nice place. You didn’t tell me your house was this pretty. What were you thinking I’d make fun of?”

His eyes scanned the candlelit room quickly. Before I could reach the end of the kitchen counter, Jesse’s eyes landed there.

My insides went molten.

There was a book on the counter. Earlier, I’d been sitting at the end of my breakfast bar, reading the latest self-help book I’d gotten: How to Love Yourself, No Matter What.

“Aww, Mason,” Jesse said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about that. Why do the most lovable people always seem to hate themselves?”

“But it’s not just—”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes glancing to the side.

Next to the book there were multiple photos of me, too. Shirtless photos that I’d printed out, where I was looking out at the camera with my best sultry gaze.

“I can explain,” I told him.

He held up his hands. “No, no need—”

“There’s a section in the book that says if you look at photos of yourself every day, and think loving thoughts, that you’ll end up loving yourself more. I promise I don’t just look at my own pictures for no reason. And, let’s be real, I don’t even think the experiment is working, anyway.”

I snatched up the book and shoved the pictures inside. I went over and slid it onto a bookshelf near the living room.

When I walked back, he was looking at me with satisfaction all over his face.

“Cute,” Jesse said.

My skin was still hot. “Are you done yet?”

He walked around the kitchen and started to open the cabinets, checking them until he found the pantry.

“Good selection. I’m surprised,” he said.

“Who said you could root around in my cabinets? And you think I wouldn’t have good food?”

Jesse was looking around in every nook and cranny, making himself at home as if we’d been friends for years. I felt strangely exposed and amused at the same time. People always told me that they never knew what I was going to do next, but right now Jesse had turned the tables on me.

A strange sort of yearning flooded me as I watched him, so carefree, moving around my kitchen.

I doubted he’d been through much hardship yet in his life. I carried an iceberg of grief beneath my surface everywhere I went. I already looked back on my early twenties with rose-tinted glasses, even though I was still just in my early 30s. So much had changed in the last year since losing my dad.

“I don’t even know why you’re still here, to be honest.”

“Well I don’t know why you left the bar so fast,” Jesse said. “One minute, you wanted to play games with me, and the next you were high-tailing it out of dodge.”

“Because I knew I was going to fuck something up,” I said, immediately wishing I’d made up a lie instead.

Jesse frowned. “Fuck what up?”

I pulled in a breath of air, giving him the short version. “I was about to drink too much, and then I spilled it all over myself. I have no desire to be sloppy in front of you.”

Jesse shook his head. “Fuck that.”

He turned and went to one of my cabinets again and reached for a glass. He went over to the sink, filling it with a couple inches of water, then lifted the glass up over his head. He tipped it and poured the water over his head, leaning back like he was basking in it. I watched it fall across his face, down his neck, and soak a little portion of his T-shirt.

“Be sloppy,” he said, setting the glass down on the counter and giving me a pointed look.

“Damn,” I said, watching rivulets of water fall down his neck. “Point taken. Easy to do that when you already got soaked in the rain, though.”

He pushed back his hair with one hand, sucking in air. “This water was actually cold as fuck, though. Do you, uh, happen to have a spare T-shirt?”

I puffed out a laugh despite myself. “I’ll go grab one.”

He was already tugging off his wet shirt as I turned to leave the kitchen, and I resisted the urge to turn and stare. I made my way over past the living room and to the staircase, taking them up two at a time to my room.

I could tell Jesse and Kane were related, but Jesse was definitely different from his brother. Way more free spirited, flirtier, and practically movie-star hot.

I needed to get him the hell out of my house.

I grabbed a black T-shirt and headed back downstairs. I found him shirtless in the dark living room, crouched in front of my fireplace.

God, his abs were unreal. It was too bad he was a hockey player instead of a lifeguard or something, because the world was missing out on seeing those abs on display.

“Does this thing work?” he asked.

“Sure does,” I said. “I was about to go get it started when you poured a glass of water all over yourself.”

He smiled, standing up and taking the shirt from me. I let myself glance at his tattooed arm in the dim light coming through the windows, a collection of beautiful, detailed ink over his muscled arm. I guess it was normal for hockey players to be built like Mack trucks, but Jesse… he was somehow lean and bulky all at once, like a Ferrari in human form.

No wonder people liked to watch him play.

“This is soft. Me likey,” he said, pulling the shirt on.

“Is this normal for you? You go over to guys’ houses and just spill water on yourself to make a point?”

“Not usually like that,” he said. “But yeah, I guess I did want to make a point.”

“A nice ol’ sloppy point.”

“Listen,” he said. “I prefer real and messy over fake and anything .”

“Meaning…”

His expression got serious. “Meaning that if you’re being yourself, and being honest, you should never feel like you have to be ashamed of it. Ever.”

There was an urgency behind his words. I could tell he felt strongly about what he was saying, and honesty in particular seemed important to him.

He helped me grab a couple of logs for the fire, already looking completely composed again after drying off. Maybe I didn’t want him to go home right away. It had been nice of him to take me home, after all, even if I’d been… prickly.

Once we’d lit the fire and it slowly started to smolder and grow, I turned to him.

“I’ve got to ask. Is there a reason you’re bringing up honesty? You sounded pretty burned when you said that.”

He glanced at me from the side. The orange light from the fire highlighted his face, casting faint shadows beneath his cheekbones.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I nodded. “That’s okay.”

I understood wanting to keep my sad stories away, and if he wanted to do that, I wouldn’t blame him.

After a pause, though, he seemed to reconsider.

“My ex cheated on me. Multiple times,” he said, quickly and bluntly. “He wanted our whole relationship kept secret, the whole time. But it turned out he was ashamed of himself and was banging women all of the time behind my back.”

“Fuck,” I said. “He made you hide it?”

Jesse set his jaw, the shadows of the fire moving over his stony expression. “He would only allow us to be together in two places. His room in the frat house, or on these stupid little one-night camping trips, far away.”

So he had been through some shit.

“And… the women? They didn’t know, I assume?”

“None of them. He got one of them pregnant, then finally kicked me to the curb.”

How on fucking planet Earth could anyone not want you?

“Wow,” I said softly. “Was that recently?”

“Just a couple of months ago. But we’d been having problems for a lot longer than that.”

That was recent as hell. No wonder it seemed like Jesse’s wound was fresh.

“He sounds like a colossal asshole.”

He nodded. “I lived like I was walking on eggshells for so long around my ex, while he just lived a lie that looked perfect on the outside. I’m never doing that shit again.”

The rain had settled to a drizzle outside. It was clear that Jesse didn’t want to talk more about his ex, and I wasn’t going to press the matter.

“I need to go check on the horses, but you can stay here by the fire and warm up a little more if you want.”

“I’ll come out with you to see them.”

I grabbed my handheld electric lantern and headed for the back doors. “They’ve always hated rain, but they’ve been doing a little better with it since spring. Don’t like thunder, either, but most of it was pretty far off tonight, until the past half hour.”

I opened the back doors, showed him a pair of muck boots he could wear, and led him out onto the dirt path that led to the nearest stables. Jesse followed beside me.

The air outside smelled like fresh, wet earth. I loved the way the ranch smelled after the rain, even if it meant more mud. We slowly walked down the path, which was still somewhat lit up by dim solar lights I’d put all along the edges and under some of the trees.

“Do the horses get alfalfa? Timothy grass?” he asked.

I glanced his way. “Both, depending.”

“Any hard keepers?”

I paused for a moment. “Wait. Do you know about horses? Did you and Kane grow up with them?”

He laughed. “God, no. We grew up with an overworked single mom, and we could barely afford rent, let alone riding.”

“How do you know about hard keepers?”

He squinted off into the distance, looking up at the far-off clouds. “There was only one time my ex brought me home to meet his parents—introduced me as just a friend , of course. But his family had two horses. Star and Treacle. I really fell in love with them.”

“I’ll be damned,” I said. “Well, two things: I hate your ex, first of all. And second, get your ass over here and meet my horses.”

I could hear Chomp from the moment we walked into the stables. I walked to each pen with the electric lantern, introducing Jesse to Chomp, Maisie, Pippa, and Hopper. I checked all of their water and refreshed Chomp’s grain, but other than that, the horses seemed to have done very well after the storm.

“They seem so happy,” Jesse said, stroking Maisie’s mane. “Is this girl a Morgan?”

“Chestnut Morgan, you got it,” I said.

“And I definitely saw a Clydesdale down there,” Jesse said, looking down a few pens.

“That’s Hopper. Gentle giant. A lot of people’s favorite to ride. Although Chomp, the one with the spots on his hind leg, is also a favorite. Pippa’s my quarter pony and she’s a diva, but carrots are the secret weapon that can endear her to anybody.”

“They’re all so sweet,” Jesse said, his expression more peaceful than I’d seen it all night.

Can always tell somebody’s a good egg if Maisie likes ‘em . That’s what my dad always used to say, when new people came around to meet the horses.

Well, right now it was abundantly clear that Maisie liked Jesse. She snorted gently, nuzzling against his arm, and he smiled, leaning up against her.

“You can come out to ride anytime you want,” I offered. “I’m told I’m a good teacher. Promise I won’t ever bitch you out again like I did in the car.”

“Is that right?”

“Scout’s honor.”

I caught a hint of a smile as he looked down at the ground. “If I can fit it in, that would be amazing. I’ve got summer league practices and games, and I’m back in summer classes starting next week. But I could find some time.”

“They love people. The more the merrier. My dad used to be around a lot, but even with Finn and my other ranch hand, it’s still a ton of work now that it’s mostly just me around here.”

No sob story. No Mopey Mason Minton.

Don’t make it sound like you’re a lonely ranch hand.

“Sweeter than fuckin’ hell,” he said, giving Maisie one last pat on her side. “Can we exchange numbers? I’ll text or call if I have a spare day to come ride.”

“They love people,” I said. “They’ll be happy any time you want to come around.”

He held out his phone and I entered my number. He gave me his, too, and then shook his head.

“Wow. You moved from yelling at me, to worrying I’m a murderer, to offering me riding lessons in one night?”

“Correction,” I said, “I tried to fuck you, then realized what a gigantic mistake that was the moment I found out who you were. Then I moved on to the yelling and the worrying.”

My words hung in the air, and Jesse’s eyes went wide, illuminated by the lantern. “That’s some honesty, right there.”

My heart was beating faster. “Little too much honesty, I think. But I didn’t want you going home thinking I… yelled at you like that for any other reason.”

“You were just trying to scare me off?” he asked. “Because deep down you want to fuck me?”

I rolled my eyes. “ Wanted to. Past tense. Never going to happen now, obviously, and I know you wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.”

“I’m still flattered.”

“Well, quit it,” I said. “But I do like you, okay? Don’t make me regret saying so.”

He leaned against one of the wooden poles near Maisie’s stable, his biceps so chiseled it was almost painful for me to look at. The hint of a smile landed on his face, and I was pretty sure he’d noticed me checking him out. For the first time, I saw that he had the faintest dusting of freckles at the tops of his cheeks.

I turned away, still questioning whether or not I should have just let him keep thinking I was an uninterested, angry prick.

“Let’s head back in,” I said.

“After you, cowboy.”

He was silent as we slowly made our way back over to the house. The rain had stopped completely by now, and the clouds overhead drifted away enough to reveal a bright moon. The crickets seemed to have woken up after the storm passed, too, their cheep-cheep filling the air in between the sound of our boots on the wet dirt.

We took off the muck boots and left them on the deck, stepping back into my living room. The fire was going pretty well by now, and I set down my lantern.

Jesse sat on one corner of my couch, and I took the spot next to him, relaxing onto the cushion.

“You really think I wouldn’t have wanted you?” Jesse asked.

I turned and saw his eyes, looking more bedroomy than ever in front of the fire.

Flirty ass hockey punk. Fuck, I should have sat on the opposite side of the couch entirely.

Something behind my sternum ached.

“No,” I said. “I think you would have wanted to… punish me, in the fun way. But I didn’t think you actually wanted me.”

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“That’s what I’m used to,” I said. “People think I’m fun to talk to, but they think I’m a mess. And maybe they’re right. But I just feel like most people don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

I shifted. “I shouldn’t be saying this, but a guy said I was insane a few months ago just because I told him I like a hand around my neck. It’s not like I want to be choked out, I just—”

“Like the feeling of a strong hand around your neck,” he completed my sentence. “I get you, Mason.”

“Exactly. I’m not afraid of the feeling. It’s comforting, sometimes.”

Jesse swallowed. I watched him glance from my eyes to my lips and back again, pausing like there was some question in the air.

“Truth or dare,” he finally said, surprising me for the millionth time that night.

Don’t play a game with him. Just tell him you’re tired, and he’ll leave, and—

“Truth,” I said, ignoring all my good instincts, yet again. “No. Wait. Dare.”

“Dare you to kiss me,” Jesse said, without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

I cocked my head to one side, my body going hot all at once. “Excuse me?”

“I dare you,” he repeated, “to kiss me.”

A riot of butterflies stirred in my stomach.

He couldn’t mean that. Not possible.

“What happened to being totally off the market?”

I stared at his mouth. Fuck, how many people would kill for a chance to kiss that mouth, and he was standing there daring me to do it?

“That’s still true,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to kiss me. Just once.”

“Why are you doing this, Jesse—”

“Because the last person who kissed me was my ex, and I really fucking don’t like thinking about that anymore, and I just want a goddamn reset button—”

I closed the distance between us before he could finish talking.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, taking his kiss like it was a gift I’d been given, only for a moment. The tip of his nose was still a little chilly from being outside, but his lips were warm and plush and perfect, and he hummed just a little as my mouth hit his.

The slightest hint of lime was still on his lips. The scent of his shampoo filled the air, his hair recently wet from the rain.

If this was the one time Jesse and I were going to kiss, I was going to make it count. I lifted my hand and slid it onto the side of his face, lacing my fingers into his hair.

He leaned further into me after a moment, opening his mouth to me. He slowly deepened the kiss.

Fuck . He didn’t just act like he had Daddy energy.

He kissed like it, too.

I groaned against him, letting my tongue slide out against his, hot and wet.

Stop.

Stop kissing him.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this—

My cock ached under my pants, hardening as soon as my tongue was in his mouth. He kissed me like he was hungry for it. When he broke off from my mouth I moaned gently, involuntarily, just wishing that it wasn’t already over. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked into mine.

And then he went back in again.

He was just as greedy for more, apparently, and I sighed against his touch, feeling like a lottery winner. My cock was harder than hell now, shoved up against the front of my pants, and when Jesse slid a hand between me and the couch to grip the top of my ass, I moaned again. Louder this time. Right into his mouth.

“Go home,” I tried to tell him, leaning back just a little and breaking off from his needy kiss.

“Don’t want to.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?”

He leaned in to suck a slow, wet kiss against my lower lip. I was shaking a little now, and it felt impossible trying to hide it.

“I want you,” he said against me.

“No you don’t. I can’t be your rebound.”

I could feel his breath on my mouth, and it was so intoxicating I was two fucking seconds away from abandoning all of my decisions.

“Do you want my cock inside you?” he said in a low whisper, leaning back a little to look me in the eyes. “Be honest.”

I felt weak but I liked it.

“Yes,” I whispered. His fingers stroked through my hair.

He hummed. “You want to take me deep? Have me call you a good boy?”

I moaned deeply, my cock throbbing so much it ached. “Yes.”

“Just once. I’ll fuck you, just once, just tonight.”

“ No ,” I growled.

He grabbed the front of my shirt in his fist, putting his forehead to mine again as he sucked in a breath of air.

I groaned, hating this, hating him all over again in that moment, hating…

Hating in my bones that I was forced to say no to him, when every cell in my body was screaming yes.

His teeth closed around my lower. He bit down, pulling back my lip until it slipped out from between his teeth.

And then he let his hand slide up from my chest to my neck.

He cupped his hand around my throat, applying a gentle pressure, sending me deep into a half-hypnotized trance as he stared into my eyes.

“ Fuck ,” I hissed, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You sure you like this?” he murmured, pushing just a little harder on my neck. His hand was big and warm. I looked up at him again.

“More than you could even imagine,” I said, my voice coming out strange as I felt my Adam’s apple move against the palm of his hand.

I could come from this.

I wanted to reach down and grip my cock. Jesse’s hand around my neck suddenly made me into a feral animal. I didn’t have to show him how I liked to be touched—he already knew, and he handled me like he was well aware of what I needed. Right up to the limit, where it felt best.

Please just fucking take me.

After a moment he slid his hand down. I missed it instantly. He put his arms around me instead, squeezing me in a close, too-sweet hug, letting one hand come up behind my head and grip into my hair again.

“I want it, Jesse,” I said as he kissed against the side of my head, his lips brushing against my earlobe. “But—”

“But you can’t,” he said. “I get it. I understand.”

I watched him, heart pounding, as he looked off at the fire’s glow. He was resigned, but not upset. He looked almost sad for a moment, maybe broken, like he didn’t want it to be over, either. The crackle of the fire went on beside us, the moment stretching out so far I was sure it would snap.

When he looked back at me, I didn’t know if he was more likely to jump me, rip my clothes off and fuck me—or if he was about to say goodbye, make a clean exit out of my house, and never see me again.

Then something flashed.

Multiple somethings flashed, all at once.

Suddenly, all around us, the power came back on.

A lamp in the living room illuminated, as well as my porch light and one in the kitchen. Apparently I’d left the TV on when I left home earlier, too, because it flickered on and the end of The Breakfast Club started to play.

I felt like I’d just been caught red-handed, somewhere I shouldn’t have been, even though all I’d been doing was kissing a guy in my dark living room.

Jesse pulled in a long breath of air, standing up.

“You were watching The Breakfast Club , huh?” he said, a normal, gentle calm returning to his voice.

I wanted a stopwatch that would take me back to a minute ago. I wanted to live in that moment.

I was still so hard it hurt.

I exhaled, collecting myself and trying to act something close to normal. “I don’t want to hear any shit from you. That movie is a classic.”

He held up his hands. “Hey, I love it, too. I’m all on-board with that.”

So this was what we were doing now?

Acting like that kiss hadn’t been the hottest thing I’d fucking done all year, and going back to idle chit-chat again? I still felt like I was in free-fall.

He reached for his leather jacket, which he’d tossed over the back of my couch. He shrugged it on, giving me a little salute.

“Have a good night, Mason,” he said, nodding before heading for the front door.

Damn. Guess the chit-chat wasn’t even an option anymore, either.

“Get home safe,” I called after him.

And please don’t tell your brother how close I was to letting you fuck me.