Smoky Mountain Dreams (19 page)

“Hell, yeah. Whenever you weren’t looking, he was staring at
you. I’m surprised he didn’t maim himself, he was paying so little attention to
his work.”

Christopher snorted.

“Should I be jealous?” Jesse whispered in his ear, hot and
shivery good.

“Remember what you told me about Ricky? Well, it turns out
thirty-year-old blacksmiths are always a mistake too. Who knew?”

Jesse pulled away, leaving his hand on the nape of
Christopher’s neck for just a moment longer than was necessary before letting
go. “A mistake? You sure?”

“Positive.”

Jesse’s eyes followed the path Gareth had taken. “He’s got a
fantastic ass.”

“I was more interested in his forearms, to be honest.”

Jesse laughed. “I didn’t realize you were into that kind of
thing. Arms? Really?” He pushed his hand through his loosely curled fingers and
mimed a fisting movement.

“Oh my God!” Christopher gasped, feeling his cheeks heat up.
“I just meant I liked looking at them.”

“So…it was good?”

Christopher laughed. “I don’t know. Sure. But it was
recently outshined.” If Jesse had missed his embarrassment before, he couldn’t
now. His body went so hot that he started to sweat. “I mean, don’t get me
wrong. I know that we just got started on whatever…whatever we’re doing…and I’m
not saying that—”

“You’re not saying that me pounding your hot ass the other
night wasn’t better than whatever happened with that guy?”

“No. I mean, yeah. It was better.”

“Good, because it was pretty great for me.” Jesse made a
silly face like he was joking around, but Christopher saw a crinkle of worry in
Jesse’s brow as he glanced toward the pie shop again. “But you don’t have to
say that, you know. As you pointed out, we’re not committed or anything. Have
at the smithy.”

“I’d rather not, to be honest. Like
I
said, it was a mistake.”

Jesse studied Christopher for a moment and then nodded. “We’re
still on for Tuesday morning?”

“Absolutely. What do you like for breakfast?”

“Condoms,” Jesse said. “And lube.”

Christopher glanced around, but there wasn’t anyone close
enough to have heard Jesse’s words. “Seriously?”

“Do I seriously like blueberry muffins and bacon from
Traveler’s Cup? Yes, I’m serious.”

Christopher laughed. “You know what you said.”

“I do know, but we probably shouldn’t. Amanda sometimes
comes in early.”

“You’re an awful tease.”

“So you would? There in my office? Over my desk?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I like that about you, Christopher Ryder.”

“Like I said, I’m always a little easy, but what can I say?
You make me easier than easy.”

Gareth banged back into the forge area, glaring at them like
they were making his life hell by standing there together.

“Well, I should catch up with the family,” Jesse said,
casting an unreadable glance Gareth’s way.

“And I should head back to get ready for the show. Will you
be there?”

Jesse grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

“Oh, and blueberry muffins and bacon it is. Traveler’s Cup.
Got it.”

Jesse waved and walked away. Christopher hesitated for a
moment, nearly said hello to Gareth, and then simply turned on his heel.

J
ESSE
CHECKED THE CLOCK FOURTEEN
times on Tuesday morning as he tried to
choose what he should work on while he waited for Christopher to arrive with
breakfast. He’d worked a bit on the locket for Christopher’s grandmother the
night before, but was waffling on what to charge for it. It seemed strange to
take money from a man he was fucking, but he knew Christopher wouldn’t take it
for free. He wondered if Christopher knew enough about the value of his work to
recognize if Jesse undercharged him.

He decided to work on a pearl necklace for a longtime
client. He was carefully drilling a hole in the nacre of a pearl when the
doorbell at the office’s back door rang. Jesse’s stomach flipped, his dick grew
fatter, and anticipation flooded his veins.

“Shh,” he told himself as he strolled past the small
bathroom left over from when the house had been a residence. He dug keys out of
his back pocket to unlock the latches on the back door near the parking lot
where Christopher was waiting. “Not this morning. Just enjoy being with him.
You don’t have to get him naked every time you see him.”

His libido screamed that the last time he’d seen Christopher
he’d had clothes on, and so getting him naked today here in his office and
bending him over his desk would be perfectly reasonable and not greedy at all.
He chuckled at his own urgency and want, amused and intrigued by the feeling.
It’d been a long time since he’d wanted someone as much as he wanted
Christopher Ryder, but even longer since he’d been willing to shove the need
aside to see a guy’s smile, to hear his voice, and just be together.

Speaking of smiles, Christopher’s was sleepy but brilliant
when Jesse opened the door and stepped aside to let him in. The invigorating
scent of coffee emanated from the paper cups in the drink holder in Christopher’s
hand. Jesse shut the door behind him, turning the locks and using the keys on
the deadbolt, before liberating the cardboard cup holder from Christopher’s
hands.

“Morning,” Christopher said, lifting up the white paper bag
with the Traveler’s Cup imprint. “Blueberry muffins like you requested.”

Jesse didn’t resist the urge to lean in and plant a kiss on
Christopher’s pretty mouth. He didn’t linger, though, pulling back to witness
the spark of joy in Christopher’s gold-flecked eyes. “Come on back.”

Christopher trailed behind him. A glance over Jesse’s
shoulder proved that he was taking in the rest of the photos from his and Marcy’s
travels across Europe when they were younger. It was such a relief that
Christopher had taken the news about Marcy’s condition in stride. Jesse hadn’t
much cared if the men he’d briefly fucked in the years since the accident had
known or not, and he sure as hell had never wanted them to meet his kids and
in-laws. But his reaction to Christopher was different in so many ways. Ways
that terrified him and made him tingle down to his toes at the same time.

As Christopher examined a picture from the Cannes seaside,
Jesse wondered what he’d look like in the Riviera sunshine. Like white gold,
probably. His skin was pale enough that he’d probably glow and then burn and
then just
shine
.

Jesse didn’t make a ton of jewelry for men, but he
considered Christopher’s hands and immediately thought of several bracelets and
rings he could make for Christopher to model. He’d never made it to Crete or
Israel. Maybe Christopher could be his muse. Jesse shook the thoughts away. Too
much, too soon. He needed to slow his heart and mind down. Everything was
fragile and new. Forever-trinkets and long-term thoughts didn’t belong here.
Not yet.

Still, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to show
Christopher everything he loved. Seeing him interact with Will and Brigid on
Sunday had been gratifying in ways he hadn’t expected, but he had to use his
head now—carefully—because his heart (and dick) wanted to move full steam
ahead. He hadn’t felt so alive, so excited in years. Even his skin seemed to
have new nerves, making him hyperaware of his shirt against his own back, and
the puff of Christopher’s breath against his neck as he passed by Jesse and
into his office.

“I had a hard time sleeping last night. My brain wouldn’t
shut up,” Christopher said, dropping into the seat across from Jesse’s desk and
rubbing at his tired face. “Sorry if I’m out of it. I really need coffee. Stat.”

Jesse sat opposite him, sliding the coffee tray across the
glass desk. Christopher tossed the bag with the muffins between them and
grabbed the paper cup marked with his initials. He took a deep gulp as Jesse
watched his throat work. Jesse wanted to reach across the desk, wrap his hand
around the back of Christopher’s neck and drag him in for a long, searching taste
of his mouth—coffee and spit and toothpaste, he was sure. Instead, he asked, “Worried
about something?”

Christopher laughed softly and shook his head. “No. More
like I was a little too excited.”

“Me too. I woke up before my alarm went off this morning. Thought
I’d never get Brigid and Will to school and get here. Then when I did, I
figured out that I’d made the classic mistake of hurrying up just to wait.”

Christopher’s lashes lowered and raised seductively, and
Jesse grabbed his own coffee cup, taking a big sip to keep from dropping to his
knees and crawling over to Christopher, nuzzling his crotch, and—

“What are you working on?” Christopher asked, interrupting
his fantasy. He nodded toward the collection of items Jesse had moved to the
right side of his desk.

“A pearl necklace for a client.”

Christopher’s head tilted as he examined the tray of loose
pearls and the drill. “How much is each of those worth?”

Jesse smiled. “Pearls are sold by weight. These aren’t very
large, but the shape and luster is high, so they’re still worth more than many
other pearls their size.” He swallowed more coffee and swiveled in his chair,
holding up a hand. “Here, look at these.” He pulled open the drawer in which he’d
stored the beads when his disgusted client had told him just to keep the
strand.

Christopher whistled as Jesse held out a necklace of
good-sized pearls. “Wow, this is beautiful,” Christopher said as Jesse passed
it into his hands. “I’ve never held real pearls before.”

“You still haven’t,” Jesse said. “These are fakes.”

“Really?”

“A client came in to have them authenticated after spending
a pretty penny on them in Turkey. I had to let her know that she’d been taken.”

“Is it unusual that you have to tell a client they’ve bought
a fake?”

“It happens occasionally. It’s never fun.”

Christopher pulled the necklace closer to his eyes, studying
the beads, and then cast searching glances toward the pearls in the tray Jesse
was working with. “They look the same.”

“To the naked eye maybe, but there are always tells.”

Jesse unlocked a drawer in his storage box and pulled out a
small, simple pearl bracelet he’d put together for a tourist who’d been passing
through—and had never come back for it. It wasn’t really a problem since he had
an experimental pearl design for earrings he wanted to try out and the pearls
in the bracelet would do just fine.

He handed it over to Christopher, who put the fake necklace
down on the desk to look over the bracelet more closely. “These are real?”
Christopher asked, running his fingers over the pearls.

“Yes. I’ll show you how you can tell. It’s simple. You just
need teeth and tongue.”

Christopher glanced up at him, eyes hot with what he seemed
to hear as a double entendre. Jesse smiled. That was fine with him. He stood
and walked around the desk, approaching Christopher and moving their coffee
cups to his filing cabinet.

He pulled Christopher up to standing and took the real
pearls from his hand.

“Open your mouth.”

Christopher cleared his throat and licked his lips, pupils
dilating and his pulse thudding visibly at the base of his neck, and that went
right to Jesse’s cock. He held up the pearl bracelet and said, “Pearls are
covered in platelets made of a calcium carbonate known as nacre. It makes them
a little gritty when you rub them against a tooth.”

Christopher’s lips spread slightly and Jesse took hold of
his chin, feeling the slight scratch of stubble against his fingers. “You just
rub the surface of a pearl against the flat of one of your top teeth.” He
pressed his index finger against the soft flesh of Christopher’s top lip and
rubbed it gently, his cock going breathtakingly hard. “Like this.” He slid one
of the pearls on the bracelet against Christopher’s tooth, feeling the wet
cling of his lip, and then the tentative touch of Christopher’s tongue on his
thumb.

Jesse whispered, “Did you feel the grit?”

Christopher nodded, his cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide,
and his breath coming in fast, harsh pants. Jesse pushed the pearls farther
into Christopher’s mouth, sliding them into the wet hollow under his tongue,
feeling the slick of his inner cheeks on his fingers and thumb, and the
slippery softness of his lips. He leaned in and breathed in the scent of
Christopher’s neck. It was now excitingly familiar: a musky shampoo scented
with what seemed like possibly bourbon and old books, an earthy aftershave with
a hint of mint, and the sweet, unique, layered odor of his Gran’s cabin that
clung to his clothes and skin.

“Christ,” Jesse murmured. “You’re just delicious.”

He kissed his mouth, the pearls still dangling from
Christopher’s lips, and as their tongues slid together, Jesse pulled the strand
free, the sensation of pearls sliding between their lips new and unexpectedly
erotic. The kiss didn’t break as Jesse tossed the pearl bracelet on a side
table and grabbed Christopher’s T-shirt, dragging him closer, tasting his spit
and hunger as they pawed at each other’s hair and clothes, shoving hands up
under shirts and scrabbling at jean buttons and zippers.