Say You'll Be Nine

He made a choking sound in his throat that almost made me bark out a laugh. I bit my tongue instead and turned around to gather my composure. I hadn’t expected to notice the warmth of his body through his cotton undershirt or the muted crinkle of what had to be thick, delicious chest hair beneath the fabric.

I squeezed my eyes closed for a second and reminded myself that straight men usually didn’t take kindly to flirty gay guys, even if it was clearly a joke. Even though Nine was a giant guy with jacked-up muscles, I knew enough about him to know he’d never hurt me. Nine Winshed had a reputation in Wheatland and in the Winshed family for being a gentle giant. If they hadn’t already given him the nickname “Nine,” they would have called him Snow White because of how damned sweet he was with animals and how much he loved being outside with them.

But everyone had their limits. I knew from experience not to make assumptions, and to be honest, it wasn’t like I knew Nine that well. He wasn’t much of a talker on his best day, and even Eli had told me he kept himself to himself mostly. I couldn’t imagine that. I was the opposite. In fact, the idea of spending all summer stuck out in the middle of this godforsaken place with only a repressed lumberjack for company was depressing as hell.

Keep your eye on the prize.

I needed the money this job would bring. Stallion had made us a very lucrative offer with bonuses and accelerators based on how big we could grow our subscribership for the vlog. Hopefully Nine was as money motivated as I was because I was going to work this opportunity for everything I was worth. My goal was to blow the roof off the income potential of this. I wanted my brother taken care of. I wanted my mom’s house back. And I wanted the opportunity to start a new chapter. This vlog was my chance at the kind of exposure and freedom I hadn’t been able to find in LA.

I took a breath and pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Speaking of our relationship. I think we should make our first post right now and get this party started.”

After nudging him back out the door to the RV and into the clearing between the RV and the rubble pile formerly known as a cabin, I positioned him the way I wanted. “Okay, stay right there.”

I turned around and backed up against him until my back rested against his front. His entire body tensed. I leaned my head back against his shoulder and reached for one of his hands to pull it around my waist in an embrace. It was like trying to mold a brick of stubborn ice. “Relax,” I muttered. “I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“Nfh.”

His grunt made me laugh, so I took the opportunity to capture it on film, clicking my phone while trying to make sure the rubble pile was also in the frame. Even on my small phone screen, I could see Nine’s discomfort.

“Act like you’re not disgusted by me, you oaf.” Now he was starting to piss me off. “This is never going to work if you look like you’d rather be having dental surgery than touching me.”

I felt the warm air of his exhale against the side of my neck seconds before his beard brushed the same spot. He nuzzled into my neck with his beard and his lips, nearly bringing me to my knees with shock and pleasure. I hoped to god that tiny whimper was only in my head.

“You smell like pickles,” he murmured against my neck. “I like pickles.”

My breathing came in short, shallow pulls as his arm tightened around my middle and the bulky fly of his jeans brushed against my ass.

Oh dear god.

“Me too,” I breathed.

“You too what?” he asked.

“Like pickles. A lot.” I closed my eyes and begged for strength. “A lot, a lot. Like… a lot.”

What was I even talking about right now?

The deep rumble of his laughter vibrated against my back just before he stepped away and turned to walk toward the rubble. “I think you got enough shots for now. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

I watched the round globes of his ass being lovingly attended to by those jeans as he walked away. He’d stripped off the flannel, leaving only the tight, white undershirt. It highlighted the massively wide shoulders and every rounded muscle in his back leading down to his narrow waist and championship ass. The man was god’s definition of masculine perfection.

Okay, he was at least my definition of it. I couldn’t look away. My dick was as hard as the sturdy pine trees at the edge of the forest.