When they’d both woken once more, they spent the day lounging, alternating the distractions between TV and sex, sometimes both at the same time. Ford couldn’t remember a time when he’d been that fucked out and that content to sit on his ass, cuddled into someone else and doing absolutely nothing.
He was proud of himself for spending an entire afternoon without thinking. Every time reality began creeping in, he pushed it back, turning on the next episode of
Suits
, and when the task proved too difficult for him to manage on his own, Nash was more than willing to help out, kissing him until Ford no longer remembered his own name.
Ford stretched out in Nash’s soft sheets that night, grateful he had given in and agreed to stay. He felt good—far better than he thought possible. Maybe a week of vegging on the couch and almost more sex than he could handle was exactly what he needed. Maybe one of the reasons he’d taken Joel’s death as hard as he had was that he was burned out to begin with. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a vacation. Come to think of it, it might have been Aaron’s high school graduation. That was almost five years earlier.
Closing his eyes, he reveled in the feeling of Nash’s arms around him, his steady, even breaths at his back, and the deep-seated satiety that had filled him the whole day.
Ford had anticipated an entire week of lounging and boring holes in his head with mindless TV and in his stomach with junk food. What he got instead was a man pulling him out of bed the next morning like an overexcited kid, begging him to get dressed so they could spend the day in the mountains.
“What happened to being a fucking couch potato and not moving? What happened to building myself into a blanket cocoon on your couch?” Ford whined, going limp to keep Nash from dragging him from the bed.
Nash chuckled and slid his arms beneath Ford’s back and legs, cradled him and carried him to the bathroom. Ford groaned, at the same time trying to tamp down his libido. Having a thing for guys that were strong enough to throw him around was not a good thing in that moment.
Nash set him down to stand next to the shower. Ford shivered in the chilly morning air, still naked from the night before as Nash started the water, then stepped in, pulling Ford with him.
He let Nash wash him, his body melting under Nash’s careful touch, strong hands stroking every inch of Ford until he was pliable, both physically and mentally.
“Come with me,” Nash begged once more.
Ford growled. “That’s a cheap move,
Ridley
.”
“What? Making you happy so you’ll do what I want?”
“Yeah.” The word was breathy. Nash’s mouth was flush against Ford’s sternum, sucking gently and making every nerve come alive in the process.
Nash stood, meeting Ford’s eyes. “The mountains?”
“Fine.”
He beamed, a smile that made Ford’s stomach flip and his heart gave a double beat.
IT TOOK
them a little over half an hour with traffic, plus fifteen minutes more for Ford to retrieve suitable clothes from his place, to make it over the bridge and up the hill to the British Properties. Nash rounded the corner of the residential area, and there was a space on the opposite side of the road where a house had been torn down, leaving a gap in the trees that offered a view over the harbor and the entire city behind it. It was breathtaking.
The closer they got, the more Ford regretted agreeing. A plush couch and a soft blanket seemed much more his speed. He’d been thinking with his dick again, and that never ended well.
But instantly, Ford considered that maybe it worked both ways.
He reached over, sliding his hand up along Nash’s thigh. Nash’s cock twitched against his hand, and he rubbed harder, until Nash shot him a faux-annoyed look.
“You trying to make me wreck the car?” he asked.
“Nope. But I was thinking… the views up here
are
gorgeous. Instead of hiking, we could park somewhere and make out.”
Nash laughed, the deep sound filling the car. “I don’t think so. But if you want to make out
after
our hike, I would totally be up for that.”
“Would a blow job sway your resolve?” he asked, as seductively as possible.
The laugh was back, deeper and longer this time. “Rain check?”
Ford pulled his hand back and gave an exaggerated pout.
They were there already, and Nash found a place to park his giant SUV at the end of a road that looked more like they were arriving for a visit than willingly schlepping through the wilderness in the cold dampness.
Reluctantly, Ford got out of the vehicle, gravel crunching beneath his feet, and made sure his scarf was firmly in place, his jacket zipped tight, and his mittens in his pocket. He was not made for the outdoors unless it involved a patio and a cocktail.
The end of September in the North Shore Mountains was cool and drizzly. It wasn’t raining, but the air was saturated with mist, and Ford was miserable less than ten minutes in. He was freezing, he was already wet, and they’d barely made it off the street.
“Give it half an hour, and if you still hate it, we’ll turn around and I’ll take you for Starbucks,” Nash said, plying him with promises.
“Deal,” Ford said, resisting the urge to set a timer on his phone so he wouldn’t need to spend one second longer in nature than necessary.
They made their way past the metal gate and onto the trail, the uneven ground seemingly carved out of the forest. Fog hung low, obscuring the treetops and blocking out the sky as they walked uphill, deeper into the woods.
Ford was careful where he stepped, the pathway strewn with rocks and roots, making the terrain rough, which was irritating because despite his earlier reservations, the trail was beautiful and there was a lot to see. He was even warmer now that they were moving. If it weren’t for the bite to his nose and cheeks, he wouldn’t notice the cold at all.
They walked slowly so Ford could take in the sights without risk of breaking his neck. Ford removed one mitten and slid his hand into Nash’s, reluctant to admit that, in spite of himself, he was actually enjoying being out with Nash.
Other than the plank bridge that ran over a tiny creek, there was nothing to see for miles but wilderness. The air smelled fresh and earthy, and Ford wished he could bottle it. He’d never realized how much wild land surrounded the city. He couldn’t blame Nash for wanting to take advantage of it.
The trail was tricky in parts, and at one point, Nash led him off the main path toward another. In front of them stood a massive tree, easily ten times the size of the ones around it. It had to be at least five hundred years old, Ford figured. Nash read from the tattered pamphlet he’d brought, but it didn’t say how old the ancient tree was.
They’d been walking for close to an hour, and they hadn’t seen another soul since the small group of people they’d passed on their way in. It was tranquil. Even Ford was beginning to think this was a better idea than he’d originally assumed.
When they came upon Brothers Creek soon after, Ford leaned against the railing of the bridge, watching the water rush beneath it. The sound was calming. Suddenly Ford wished he could stay there forever.
Who knew he’d enter the forest a cranky, sullen idiot and leave a changed man?
“We’re halfway done, according to the map.”
“Already?” Ford asked.
Nash grinned wide. “Yep. You changing your mind about enjoying the great outdoors?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t?”
“Okay, this wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Ford admitted.
“And we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”
“What’s that?”
“I wouldn’t dare spoil the surprise for you.”
Ford looked sideways at him.
“Let’s keep going. You won’t need to wait much longer. I promise.”
FORD’S CHEEKS
were as pink as the tips of his ears, but the smile he’d permanently worn for the last hour had Nash feeling like more of a hero than he had the last time he’d gotten pulses back during a cardiac arrest. Halfway out of the city, he’d worried taking Ford on a hike was a bad idea, and by the time they were slipping through the gate that marked the beginning of the trail, he’d been sure it was.
But something changed once the city and the noise fell away. The sounds of traffic were replaced by birds and rushing water. It was like a cleanser for the soul. It hadn’t taken long at all for Ford’s sullenness to transform into awe at the beauty of the area.
They crossed Brothers Creek and made their way south toward the Crossover Trail junction. It was downhill and less taxing than the initial climb. He and Ford talked about nothing at all, Nash enjoying his company. He still had trouble believing that three weeks earlier, he hadn’t known Ford existed. He’d developed feelings for him, swiftly and surely.
They passed the junction, and a few minutes beyond was a dense copse of trees, the ground covered in large ferns. Nash grabbed Ford’s hand and tugged him off the trail, navigating between the ferns and up a small hill, far enough into the forest that he could no longer see the trail.
“Are we going to see another giant tree?” Ford asked.
“Nope. We’re going to cash in that rain check,” Nash said.
There was a wicked glint in Ford’s eyes. Nash noticed an overturned tree that had been kept mostly dry by the others. He backed Ford up against it before dropping to his knees. Wet earth soaked through his jeans where he knelt, but he was too focused on getting Ford’s pants open to pay much attention.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Ford said staring down at him, his body already starting to shiver. Nash wasn’t sure if it was from cold or anticipation, but he was about to remedy that either way.
“I don’t think so. I’ve done this before… to you, in fact, and never received any complaints.”
“No, I meant I’m supposed to be sucking… fuck.” Ford’s words were cut off as Nash pulled his erection from his jeans, leaned forward, and swirled his tongue around the head. He angled back, smiling at Ford’s hiss.
“You can have a turn later,” Nash said, and Ford looked down at him with begging eyes that made Nash’s head spin. How could he deny this man anything?
He moved forward once more, forgoing his teasing to give Ford exactly what he wanted. There would be time for teasing later, when two months’ worth of rain wasn’t soaking through his pants.
He took Ford into the back of his throat, working his shaft with his tongue as the head slid along the roof of his mouth. He pulled off before diving forward again, setting up a quick rhythm intended to push Ford right to the edge as swiftly as he could.
Hard and fast, Ford’s orgasm slammed into him, his body buckling forward over Nash, but Nash held on, his fingers digging into Ford’s hips, Ford’s cock lodged in the back of his throat. Come pulsed and Nash swallowed, reveling in the sounds that fell from him, the desperate panting and then the sated sigh.
Nash licked him clean before tucking him back inside his pants. He stood, and Ford grinned at him, eyes unfocused, bottom lip red from where he’d been chewing on it.
Nash kissed him, rough and possessive, knowing Ford could taste himself. One of them groaned. Nash was so hard it hurt, his erection insistent. He wanted to turn Ford over the log and fuck him then and there, but it was beginning to rain, and Nash wanted to get him somewhere he could take his time and really enjoy fucking him senseless.
It was going to suck, hiking the rest of the way out with a hard-on.
Nash looked down and saw his knees stained and wet from the forest floor. They hadn’t run into anyone on the trail so far that day, most people avoiding the forest on a cool fall day, but should anyone happen to see them, they would know instantly what he and Ford had been up to.
The thought made him chuckle under his breath.
“What?” Ford asked.
Nash looked pointedly at his sullied jeans. “I look like a debauched forest ranger.”
“You really do,” Ford said. “If I’d known hiking was this much fun, I’d have taken it up years ago.”
Nash kissed him again. “We can come up here as often as you want.”
Ford’s expression of instant regret made him burst out laughing. “We should get going. I want to finish what we started when we get home.”
“That sounds like the best plan you’ve had all day.”
WHEN THEY
arrived back at the SUV, Nash noticed a voice mail message had been left on his phone.
“I’ve got one too,” Ford said.
“We must have lost cell reception.”
They both listened to the messages.
“Jack?” Ford asked once Nash had lowered his phone.
“Yeah, you too?”
“Yeah. He wants to ask me some questions. I knew he’d be calling eventually.”
“He has questions for me too.”
“Maybe we should get cleaned up first?” Ford suggested.
Now that they were no longer moving, the sweat began to cool, sending a chill through him.
“Probably a good idea. Don’t want to walk into the police station with dirty knees.”
That earned him a smile. “Nope.”
They climbed into the car, and Nash set for home, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he drove. It had been so nice to escape the city for a few hours and leave all debris from the fallout behind. As they neared home, Nash knew they’d have to deal with it eventually. As much as he didn’t want Ford to get dragged back down, doing whatever they could to help Jack to solve the case was their best bet.
JACK INSISTED
on coming to them, citing convenience when he learned Ford was staying with Nash. That was fine by him. Nash figured it would seem less depressing to be questioned by the police if they were sitting on his sofa drinking coffee rather than in an office in the police station.
He arrived later that afternoon, along with a man Nash had never seen before.
“Where’s Greer?” Ford asked before the two men had even stepped all the way inside the apartment.
“Her baby is due in a little over a week, so she’s started her mat leave early to get ready for it,” Jack replied, sounding annoyed. “This is my partner in the interim, Walter.”