Despite the urge to head up to the cabin on four paws, Grant Jamison made the trek up the darkening tree-lined hillside on foot. That way he could bring a backpack, even if it was less fun. He consoled his inner-wolf by reminding himself that as soon as he was settled into his rented cabin he could shift and head out to explore.
The winter had hit Shade County hard, and was in full force so far out of town. The snow often reached his knees as he trudged on through. Thankfully his shifter blood meant he felt little of the chill. It also meant he could admire the scenery with more than just his eyes.
He paused by a tree while he adjusted the straps to his pack, and took in a long breath through his nose. A myriad of smells were brought in on the wind, and he took the time to identify them all before continuing his walk. Among the expected scents of wildlife, plants, and trees, a hint of human had him raise an eyebrow. Must be the last person to visit the cabin.
The excursion had been a birthday gift from a packmate, who had told him that the place was as remote as remote could be. The nearest other structure was another cabin owned by the same company, and it was a good hour’s walk away.
Grant had been working too damn hard lately, and the stresses of modern life had been getting to him, so he’d taken the gift with two hands and headed straight home to pack. Five hours later and there he was, leaning against a tree in the middle of nowhere with only a map and a compass to tell him he was headed in the right direction.
Another hour’s walk and the snow began to fall once more, heavily this time. The cabin came into view moments later, and Grant quickened his pace, eager to settle in and grab something to eat. His pack consisted mostly of food, drink, and books, as he doubted he’d need anything else. Despite the amount of wildlife in the area, he didn’t bring a gun, as even bears knew better than to approach a shifter without permission.
As he neared the cabin, a waft of wood smoke slowed his pace. He breathed in deep once more, and this time the scent of a man came strongly. Was it the previous occupant, not quite left yet? Maybe they hadn’t realized that there was another booking right after theirs. The only way to sort it out was face-to-face, anyway, so Grant fixed an amiable smile on his face and trudged to the front door, knocking once.
Whoever was inside, they clearly weren’t expecting visitors, and Grant had to keep himself from chuckling as a yelp of surprise came from inside. Footsteps thumped on wood, and a moment later the door opened to reveal a man with a baffled expression. Grant couldn’t help notice that he was a very good-looking man, if a little nervous.
“Hi, you’re late leaving.” Grant smiled and stepped inside before the man could speak, then dumped his backpack by the door. “Don’t worry about tidying, if that’s it. I’m not one for neatness. The snow’s starting again now, though, so you might want to make a start soon.”
“What?” The man frowned and stared out the door, then at Grant. “I’m not leaving, this is my cabin.” He shook his head. “I mean, my time with this cabin. I booked it months ago.”
“Ah.” Grant pulled out his map and checked his compass. It was the right place. “In that case it appears we’ve been double booked.”
Despite his calm response, Grant was less than thrilled at the prospect. He’d come for relaxation, not an argument with a booking rep—assuming anyone was still in the office at such a late hour. He pulled out his cellphone and turned it on. No signal.
“Is there a phone here?”
The man nodded toward the far wall. “It’s out of service, though. I, uh, paid extra for them to disconnect it while I was here.”
In the still-open door, the snow began to fall even heavier. It wasn’t a worry to Grant, as the cold would be nothing more than an inconvenience, but the other man seemed more concerned.
“Well,” Grant said, with a sigh. “Guess I’m leaving again.”
The man looked at Grant, then at the weather, then chewed his lip before finally closing the door. “You can’t go out in that. You’d freeze to death.”
Grant shrugged. “I’m sturdier than I look.”
“Even so. I think the best thing to do is wait till the morning, then head out.”
“You sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
As well as the usual senses, Grant was adept at picking up on certain emotions, and the man in front of him was a mix of several. Not least among them were confusion and lust. Grant smiled and shrugged.
“Well, I guess it makes sense. I’m Grant, by the way.” He held out his hand.
“Thomas, uh, Tom. Tom Harkins.” Tom returned the handshake. “Might as well get comfy.”
Grant nodded and headed to the small sofa. It looked like his trip might involve a little more than reading after all.
Tom didn’t know what to say or do. He had his hand on another man’s cock, albeit through clothing, and he was awake. Grant shifted his hips, grinding gently against Tom’s hand.
“We’ll go at your pace,” the man said, his gaze intense. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”
The word hovered on the tip of Tom’s tongue, but he swallowed it back. No. This was what he wanted, and the universe was handing it to him on a silver frigging platter. He wasn’t about to turn it down.
With a deep breath to steady himself, he slid his hand off Grant’s crotch. The man was about to move away, likely thinking he’d overstepped the mark, when Tom instead took a hold of the top button of Grant’s jeans.
He held the button and tried to unfasten it, but his hand was shaking as badly as his knees were, and he couldn’t get a good grip. He tried to steady his nerves, but it was no good. He’d never been the most confident in such situations, even with women.
“Here,” Grant said, his voice low. “Let me.”
Tom let go, grateful, and Grant unfastened the button, then pulled down the zipper. Tom swallowed hard and took the waist band of the pants, then began to pull down. He had to bite his lip and fight for control as the very tip of Grant’s cock came into view. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was still as big as Tom remembered from the previous night. He closed his eyes to center himself, then pulled the pants all the way down.
Grant’s cock sprang out, released, and all Tom could do at first was stare at it.
“Touch it,” Grant said.
With a shaky hand, Tom did as he was told, and Grant let out a breath as Tom’s fingers wrapped around his shaft. It responded to Tom’s touch, and began to thicken and harden in his grip. He began to slide his hand up and down the firm cock, and before long Grant was as hard as Tom had been since the very start.
“That’s good,” Grant murmured. “Nice and slow.”
Bolstered by the words of encouragement, Tom started to stroke a little more confidently. He knew how to do it, after all. He’d been doing the same to his own since he was a teenager. As he moved back down the shaft, the foreskin moved back, revealing Grant’s huge cockhead. Before he realized he was doing it, Tom was on his knees, leaning in for a closer look.
“It’s so big,” Tom said.
Grant chuckled and ran his fingers through Tom’s hair. “Thanks.”
Tom kept up his movements, but increased the speed a little, his eyes on the head as it slipped back and forth through his fist. He wanted to kiss it, to run his tongue over it and feel it in his mouth, but he didn’t know if he had it in him. He must have licked his lips, though, as Grant began to apply a little pressure to the back of Tom’s head. Not enough to force movement, but enough to encourage.
“Suck it,” Grant said, a little more forcefully this time. “Suck my cock, Tom.”
His brain fought him at first, but then surrendered to the urges and Tom flicked his tongue across the taut skin of Grant’s cockhead. The man sucked in a breath at the action, and Tom allowed himself a moment of pride. He’d made Grant do that. He was bringing a man pleasure, for the first time ever.
He moved further forward and took the cockhead into his mouth entirely. The sensation was odd at first, having such a warm thing on his tongue, but he quickly moved past it and began to bob up and down.
“Suck a little more,” Grant said, then, “That’s it,” as Tom did.
While he sucked, he kept up the movement with his hand, stroking the rest of the shaft. It seemed to hit all the right buttons for Grant, as the man was soon breathing heavy. His hand clenched in Tom’s hair, holding him in place, but Tom wouldn’t have pulled away even if he could. He was enjoying himself too much.
With his free hand he pulled his own waistband low and, after a moment’s hesitation, pulled out his own cock and began to stroke in time with what he was doing to Grant. Grant moaned and Tom noticed his stomach muscles clenching as he held back from coming. That thought filled Tom with more worry. Was Grant expecting him to swallow his cum? What would it taste like if he did? Could he spit it out? Maybe he should take it in the face instead?
The latter seemed like the best option, and he decided just in time, as a few moments later Grant began to breathe harder still.
“I’m gonna come,” he said.
He released his grip on Tom’s hair, as if to let him move away, but Tom was too into the moment to care. He kept up his work, sucking hard on the man’s thick cock while he stroked the shaft.
“Fuck!” Grant hissed.
Tom felt the man’s cock begin to spasm, and he pulled it out of his mouth and jerked it hard. A moment later thick ropes of semen spurted from Grant’s cock, splattering into Tom’s cheek and nose. In a moment of passion, Tom opened his mouth and aimed Grant’s cock inside. The movement was too much for Grant and he came harder still, his cum pulsing onto Tom’s tongue. He took it all, and fought not to gag as it hit the back of his throat, then ducked down onto the shaft once more to clean it of cum, his tongue lapping at Grant’s cockhead until the man pulled away.