Page 22 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eric

Apart from the novelty of a midday text from Magnus, my shift had been depressingly average for early December. The older I got, the less my body liked these short days, with darkness arriving around four. By the time I made my way home near the dinner hour, night had fallen, a dark, cloudless sky with a smattering of stars. More than a few houses on our street had their holiday lights up, a cheerful distraction from the dark and the cold.

I’d taken the liberty of a fast shower and change at the station since Magnus had suggested coming to the carriage house for a rare dinner together. Was the small kitchenette even up to producing a full meal? As I walked from the car to the house, I debated the merits of offering to order takeout for a restaurant owner. However, all thoughts of takeout fled when Magnus swung the door open to greet me, along with the most divine smell of onions, cheese, and herbs.

“What’s this?” I stepped inside the carriage house, where Magnus had prepared food and set the little dining nook table with an actual tablecloth, dishes, wine glasses, and a large glass candle as the centerpiece. Rather than greeting me with their usual enthusiasm, the dogs were both occupied with bones on their large, cushy double bed near the small kitchenette.

“Dinner.” Magnus plucked off my coat as easily as if he did it nightly and set it on a hook next to his own. He motioned for me to sit. “We should eat while the food is still hot.”

“It’s fancy.” I obediently sat, but I wasn’t done being confused. Apart from holiday meals, neither of us was much for fussy, fancy dishes. And the overall atmosphere was disturbingly romantic, complete with soft music playing and low lighting.

“I figured we were both overdue something a little nicer than a late-night scramble. You’ve been working a lot of long hours since Thanksgiving.” Magnus’s no-big-deal tone seemed pitched to make me relax. Maybe this was simply a friend thing. I might not do elegant dinners on the regular, but maybe Magnus was built differently. “Let me spoil you a little.”

“Okay.” I couldn’t exactly argue with that request, not when he was carrying a steaming casserole dish to the table. “Well, it smells fantastic.”

“No one was around, so I borrowed the oven at your place to make our dinner, then kept it warm over here. Scalloped potatoes, pork tenderloin, and roasted carrots and green beans.”

“Wow.” I half-moaned the word, already in culinary heaven. I sat back to allow Magnus to dish the food onto my plate. “I’m not sure when I last had scalloped potatoes, but I love them.”

“I figured potatoes and cheese were a safe bet for you.” Magnus gave a warm, knowing chuckle. He was also fancier than usual, wearing clean jeans and a white shirt with actual buttons, not his usual black T-shirt. “This version is inspired by a dish I had in France, heavy on the cheese and cream sauce, so definitely an indulgence.”

“You should add this to the menu.” I didn’t need to taste it to know it was a showstopper of a dish, thinly sliced potatoes floating on a sea of cream and melted cheese and flecked with herbs.

“Nah.” Magnus shrugged before serving himself. “It’s one of those dishes that’s wonderful at home and very hard to pull off as part of a nightly menu.”

“Well, I’ll consider myself lucky then.” Grinning, I surveyed my full plate.

“You should.” Magnus shot me a teasing look and then filled each of our glasses with a white wine that looked pricey from the label year alone. Thanks to Montgomery, I knew a small bit about wines, and this Sauvignon Blanc was definitely not a budget choice.

“You don’t need to ply me with the good wine,” I protested, continuing to be vaguely uncomfortable with the amount of effort Magnus had gone to on my behalf alone. “I’m a sure thing for later.”

“It would be a sin to have cheap wine with this meal. I already opened the bottle, so you might as well drink up.” Sitting across from me, Magnus toasted me with his wine glass. “Cheers. Eat up too.”

I didn’t need any further urging to enjoy the meal. The pork was salty, garlicky perfection with crisp edges and tender meat, while the potatoes were the star of the show, utter bliss in carb form. Creamy. Cheesy. Expertly seasoned. I could easily eat them for three meals running and undoubtedly still want more.

“Man.” I groaned around another mouthful of potatoes. “Maybe I did need this meal.”

“Told you. You should let me take care of you more often.” Eyes sparkling, Magnus took another sip of wine before sobering. “Hard shift?”

I waved off the question. “I’m not going to ruin your efforts with shop talk.”

“Conversation isn’t ruining anything, and maybe talking about it will help you relax more, which is the whole point here.” Unlike Montgomery, who would have had a definite agenda with a dinner-party meal like this, Magnus seemed genuinely content to let me drive the conversation.

And his nineties alternative playlist didn’t hurt, underscoring that while the wine might be a similar price point, the dinner partner was quite different.

“Maybe.” I paused, trying to put the funk that had plagued my last two shifts into words. “We didn’t lose anyone, but I’m increasingly frustrated with calls where the patient declines transport to the hospital mainly because of money worries. There’s not much I can say in those cases.”

I couldn’t lie and tell them not to worry about the bills because I knew firsthand how harrowing medical bills could be. I could strongly advise them to seek care, but I couldn’t force a conscious, competent adult into the ambulance. In many cases, the patient wasn’t the one to call for the ambulance, so there was often a fair bit of anger to navigate as well.

Magnus made a soothing noise. “And that’s hard because you’d like to be able to use logic and reason to get them to go in.”

“Exactly.” I quirked my lips, not sure I liked how easily he’d pinpointed my primary issue. “Am I that predictable?”

“A little. I see your same attitude in Wren. Family trait?” Magnus gave a warm laugh. “It’s natural, though, to want to use science to solve a problem. It sucks that people have to worry about money and insurance in the middle of an emergency.”

“Exactly. It hinders my ability to provide good care, and there’s not an easy solution.” I rolled my shoulders, stretching my surprisingly tense back muscles. “You’re right in that I prefer straightforward problems or at least ones I can solve with my medical skills.”

“One thing I’ve found in my years tending bar is that there is value in simply listening.” Magnus reached across the table to pat my hand. “Just by showing up on the scene, you are making a difference, even if it feels like shoveling snow at the North Pole.”

“True.” I exhaled hard, another wave of stress leaving. I wasn’t about to change professions or stop responding to calls, even ones where I had a strong suspicion we’d return with an empty rig. “And I suppose that’s all I can do—keep showing up, hoping and working for change, but being there nonetheless.”

“And cut yourself some slack too.” Magnus squeezed my hand, peering deeply into my eyes. “You’re only human.”

“I’ll try.” I nodded, my throat strangely tight but my shoulders far lighter. “And okay, you weren’t wrong. Talking did help. And the wine likely didn’t hurt either.”

“Good.” Magnus used that opportunity to top off our glasses and turn the conversation to lighter topics like the annual secret Santa exchange I orchestrated among the teens of the house.

As we finished eating, I couldn’t believe how relaxed I felt. Pleasantly buzzed from the wine, yes, but there was also something to the company and the effort Magnus had made to create a nice night for us.

“Let me help you clean up.” Standing, I reached for his empty plate, but he batted my hand, instead pulling me away from the table.

“Later.”

“Later?” I frowned. In all my forty-odd years, I hadn’t ever been one to skip cleanup, which Mangus well knew.

“Live dangerously. The dishes will wait. This song won’t.” He pulled me into a stiff approximation of a slow dance. I wanted to argue that the dishes wouldn’t take five minutes, but the song was from the first movie we’d watched together. The serendipity of it coming up in the playlist at this exact moment had me shutting my mouth and letting Magnus lead us in a gentle sway.

“You’re a good dancer.” Carefully avoiding the table, he executed a deft spin. Another song started, but I didn’t pull away. Across the room, the dogs snored in time to the music, and the scene was so cozy I had to close my eyes.

“Thanks. I guess I forgot how much I like slow dancing.” I leaned into Magnus, enjoying the heft of his shoulder under my palm, the closeness of our bodies, the scent of his spicy aftershave, and the sweetness of the song flowing through us as we danced. “Especially like this, not in a noisy club or dim bar.”

“Agreed.” Magnus leaned in for a soft kiss, achingly tender, and we forgot all about dancing in short order. He tasted earthy and also like expensive wine, the contrast oddly seductive. I deepened the kiss, wanting to savor more of him. We easily shifted from him leading to me, and unexpected power thrummed through me.

Another few kisses and one of us would likely drag the other up to the loft, but I had another agenda and steered him toward the loveseat.

“Now what are you on about?” Taking a seat in the center of the small couch, Magnus gazed up at me through heavily hooded eyes, like he didn’t know perfectly well even before I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“You won’t let me do dishes, so I’ll have to get creative. Show my appreciation…in other ways.”

“Please do.” He made a go-ahead gesture before leaning back, making it easier for me to undo his belt.

And oh, this was something else I’d forgotten how much I loved until Magnus came along. Quickie oral had been one of our go-to things over the past few months, but I wanted something more epic, as befitted such a perfect evening. I made a show out of slowly drawing out his thick cock, jacking him with my hand before delicately tracing the length with the very tip of my tongue. Shifting, he shimmied out of his pants so I had more room to play.

We’d done this enough that I knew perfectly well how to get him off in short order, but I teased and experimented as if it were the first time all over again. The weight of cock on my tongue and the way his girth provided a nice stretch to my jaw never failed to turn me on like crazy, more so going slow like this. And I discovered a few new things as a result, like that the base of Magnus’s cock was extra sensitive, especially the thinner skin where it met his heavy balls. I teased those lightly too, little kisses and flicks of my tongue before carefully sucking one into my mouth.

“Oh damn, Eric.” Magnus groaned, a shudder racing through him. “Let a guy breathe.”

“Sorry?” I released his ball with a lewd plop.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He shot me a stern glare. “More. Please.”

I took that as an invitation to get serious about paying attention to his balls, so I sucked one and then the other, using my tongue to elicit deep moans while jacking his cock with a spit-slick hand.

“Fuck.” Magnus’s thighs trembled under my palms. He tipped his head back against the loveseat as his cock pulsed even harder in my grip. “You better decide in a hurry where you want me to come.”

He likely meant to decide whether I wanted to swallow or take things upstairs and finish with fucking or frot. But rather than the mouth or ass dilemma, my brain kept flashing to a particularly filthy image. His cock was right at eye-level, and I couldn’t help imagining my face dripping with his come.

“On me.”

“Yeah?” Magnus’s eyes flashed dark and lusty. “Open wide. Get me closer with your mouth first.” He took over jacking himself, rubbing his cockhead on my lips, dipping into my hungry mouth, then retreating. I resumed licking his balls, but with two free hands, I couldn’t resist pulling out my cock, matching his strokes. “Oh, that’s it. Touch yourself.”

Magnus gazed down at me, voice full of approval. I hadn’t needed permission, but my pulse sped up at his words nonetheless. Magnus moaned again as I redoubled my licking efforts on his balls. “You like the thought of me coming on your pretty face?”

“Yes.” I gave a shaky groan. “Please.”

“Oh fuck. You’re the sexiest fucking picture, so eager.” He pulled back from fucking my mouth to jack his cock as I continued to lick and tease his balls. “Look up at me. Yeah, that’s it. Close your eyes.”

I released the fuzzy ball I’d been working on, lips still tingling from his hair as I tipped my head expectantly up at him. Even without being able to see him, the sound of his fist slapping against his cock was enough to have me stroking my own cock fast and furious.

“Eric,” Magnus gasped a warning. As soon as the first hot splash of Magnus’s release hit my cheek, I came all over my fist. The orgasm felt not unlike my earlier exhale—weeks’ worth of tension leaving in a single gust of air like a sponge being wrung clean. I sank onto my heels, a puddle of contentment.

Messy contentment. Between my face, hand, and clothing, I was coated.

“Wow.” I gazed down at my overflowing hand. “That was a lot of spunk.”

“Your idea,” Magnus said fondly. He swiped at a line of come along my cheekbone, licking his finger clean. “A really good one.”

“Yeah, it was.” I groaned, resting my messy face against his knee. Only fair he got some of it too. I tried to summon the urge to move, but kneeling in front of Magnus as he petted my hair and neck felt too damn good to do anything other than soak up all the affection he wanted to dole out.

“And the best part is it’s relatively early.” After a good long time massaging my head and neck, he pushed on my shoulder. “Go make use of my teeny shower, then we can discuss round two.”

“There’s a round two?”

“Oh yeah.” Magnus gave me a look hot enough to melt iron. Fresh energy surged through me. “Shower extra good for me, baby. I’m not nearly done with you.”

And I wasn’t done with him, a thought that should have terrified me but didn’t. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the romance of the evening or the music. Or him. Maybe it was Magnus. But I wasn’t done yet either, not by a long shot.