What he’d thought was a picturesque little town nestled at the base of a mountain was really a small city. He drove along Main Street looking for the post office he’d seen on the way in the day before. He parked in a space on the street, and went in to do his business. His mail was being held at the post office that served his father’s address. He guessed he’d end up sending for his father’s mail until he could put a stop to it all. He chose not to do that yet. He wasn’t ready.

When he was finished submitting the paperwork, he decided to walk the street. He found a coffee shop and went inside. Cover off and in his pocket. People saw him walk in, and rose to greet him. He winced at the same ‘thank you for your service’ greeting he’d received every time he was out in public. He appreciated their gratitude. He did. But… he left because he couldn’t serve anymore. He didn’t deserve their thanks.

He got a bear claw and a coffee, black, because he was starting to feel tired. He wasn’t used to sleeping during the day, and having nothing to do in the afternoon. Who was he kidding? He had nothing to do at any hour of the day.

He needed a job. He didn’t need the money. He just didn’t want to sit around Skip’s house getting underfoot. Cover back on, he browsed the windows on the street finding more food places, a florist, a craft store. A small bookstore. He dropped his empty coffee cup in the trash beside the door, and went into the bookstore. There was a huge display of the new SW Simpson book coming out next month. Apparently, he’d be signing here the day the book was due to release. The title of one of the other books caught his attention. It was the book he’d found in Skip’s bag while he was sick in the motel. The cover was new. He’d read two of the three books that were getting a re-release. The Girl Scout book being the second of the two, and the one he’d had a hard time getting through.

He needed something to read. He wasn’t sure if he was up to the gore of a SW Simpson book just yet. He browsed, finding a JD Robb book he hadn’t read. He stopped in the cookbook aisle, and grabbed a couple of books, and then looked around for a local section. He wanted to read up on the area, and maybe find a guide to the local scene. He had no idea why.

“We meet again,” he heard right behind him, and turned to find the pink-haired woman who’d delivered Skip’s groceries the day before. She carried a basket of books and assorted gift items. “So, what brings you to town?”

“I, uh…” He held up the books, and tried to think of a better reason than just getting out of Skip’s hair. “Wanted to get to know the town since I’m going to be here a little while. And… is there a section with local guide books or maps or something?”

“Honey, the best local library to be had in this town is in the house where you’re staying.” She took the mystery from him, and put it back on the shelf. “Skip has all of her books. Signed. He’s a mystery junkie. And the best hiking is on his mountain.”

“I, uh,” he mumbled again. He had no idea how to respond. He could borrow the book from Skip, yeah. He didn’t have a problem borrowing, but how was he supposed to know Skip had a stocked library.

“Oh, now, cookbooks, you’re not going to find one of those in Skip’s library. He barely knows how to boil water. I write explicit instructions on the frozen meals I prepare for him. He could use a home-cooked meal. Get him out of that office, and remind him to eat. He’ll go days without eating. I pop in twice a week to bring him new food, and find the meals still in the freezer, but the junk food is all gone. The weird thing is, when he’s out on the trail, he’s the one shoving food and water at people. I do not understand that man.”

“Did someone say cookbooks?” A woman wearing a smock with the bookstore’s mountain and writing pen logo on it came up. “Hi ya, Cat. Are you shopping for you or a client? Oh, hello, how are you? So lovely to see a new face.”

She held her hand out and Chad took it. “I… nice to meet you,” he said, even though they hadn’t met. He had no idea who she was, or why he was still here. “I guess, I’m about done here.”

“He’s staying with Skip. His father died, Colt. Remember Colt? Colt passed. Poor man. He had such a hard life. He was such a nice man whenever he came to visit. I didn’t know he had a son. Have you met Brian, sweetie? You and Brian would get along well. You’re both about the same age,” the pink-haired Cat said, chatting with both him and the bookstore woman. Chad politely held captive between them.

“I haven’t met him. I understand he was married recently.” Chad wondered if she’d been subtly hinting that Skip’s look-alike son would be more his speed. Maybe she was jealous. Why would she be jealous, if she didn’t know there was something between him and Skip? Did anyone know Skip liked dick? Could they tell he liked dick?

“Married? Well, isn’t that nice. Skip didn’t say a thing. I keep after him to bring the boy up for a visit, so we can meet him properly. All these years and not one visit. You know, hon, there’s a weekly cooking class at the community college. And we have a small culinary school, if you’re interested. But, there are bigger schools. One down in San Diego, not far from Skip’s compound… if that’s something that would interest you. Oh… maybe you should take the Robb book. Skip might not have a reading copy of this one yet. I wonder if he even has this one yet, it just came out last month.” Cat kept talking while the bookshop woman patted him on the arm until Chad cleared his throat. He needed to get going; it was going to be dark soon, and he had a couple of other things he wanted to do.

“I… was wondering if you could tell me where I can go to buy some… I mean, I only have my BDUs with me. I don’t have any street clothes… or biking equipment. I need hiking boots.”

“What’s a BDU?” The bookshop woman asked, looking confused.

“Battle Dress Uniform, Gail. What he’s wearing. Try to keep up, hon. I do love a man in uniform. But I can see you need to fit in around here. Not that you will, any more than Skip does. But there’s a sporting goods store where Skip buys his equipment, and they have regular clothes as well. Jeans and the like. But we have a couple of nice men’s retailers, and there’s an Old Navy in the new mall just off the highway, if you’re on a budget.”

“I’m not. It’s been nice to meet you both.” He tried for diplomacy, hoping to extricate himself from the unwanted attention. He was about to put the books down and run for his life, but the one named Gail took them, and picked up the mystery novel, and added a couple of items from the gift tables as she led him up to the checkout counter. She rang up the items, and put a receipt in the bag.

“Thank you so much. I hope to see you again. And say hello to Skip, from Gail,” she said, blushing a little, while Chad pulled out his wallet to pay, but she refused the money. “I put it on Skip’s credit with a military discount. Just… tell him we’re happy he’s back.”

“No.” Chad handed her the bag back. “This isn’t for Skip. It’s mine. I pay for my purchases.”

Cat set her basket down on the counter, and took his arm again. “I’ll be right back, Gail. Hold on to that for me.” She dragged Chad out with a strength Chad didn’t expect from such a tiny woman.

He still carried the bag of ill-gotten goods when they hit the street. She looked and found the Jeep, and started leading him toward it. “Honey, Skip owns the bookstore, and Gail has a serious thing for him. She doesn’t have the sense to realize you’re his boyfriend, so it’s… just taking care of her boss to her.”

“I’m not his boyfriend.” Chad looked back at the store at the mountain logo with the fountain pen flag atop it, and saw Skip’s influence. “I didn’t think he’d own a bookstore. He’s not the type.”

She laughed and patted his arm again.

“Oh, honey, you are too cute. Like a hedgehog. Something cute and prickly. Trust me. I know Skip well enough to see that he’s gone on you. If you weren’t aware of that, then pardon me for spoiling the plot for you. We had some good times back in the day, but he never looked at me the way he does you. And he’s never had eyes for Gail, and she’s been after him for years.”

Chad blinked rapidly, wondering if he’d developed allergies all of a sudden. He wasn’t boyfriend material. “But a bookstore?”

“Well, the old store went out of business around the time he came biking through here. He wasn’t from around here. Looked like a wild man with that long, flowing hair, and the scraggliest beard I’d ever seen. Didn’t have anything, but what he carried on his back. He stopped, and went inside, and sat down in the office, and asked to use the phone. Next thing we knew, the door was locked and the going-out-of-business sign was taken down. Skip moved into a storage room for a few months, while he had it renovated. And that’s it. He hired staff and rode out of town without a word to anyone. That’s how he is. And he’s never brought anyone to town with him before you. So… if you’re not his boyfriend, then you should probably put him out of his misery.”

Chad shifted his weight from foot to foot, and stared off into the distance at the mountain he’d just left. “Are you telling me to leave him alone?”

“I’m telling you that he doesn’t love easily because he loves too easily. If he’s not in love with you yet, and you aren’t going to stick around to give him time to get there… don’t hurt him. He won’t hurt you. I swear. He’s the only lover I ever had that I’m still friends with. We just didn’t work. I’m too bossy and he’s too pigheaded. He needs a keeper, and someone who can jump on a bike, and disappear for weeks at a time with him. He needs a friend… and a lover. A lover who is a friend.”

“He owns the bookstore?” Chad looked back at the store one more time. “Did not expect that.”

“Well…” she smiled up at him, tilting her head to bat her purple eyes at him, mischief sparkling in their depths. “On second thought… I’ll let him keep his secrets.” There was more arm patting while she walked him the rest of the way to the Jeep. “Now, the Sports Barn is—”

“Please don’t tell me he owns that too,” Chad said as she held the door for him.

“Not that I’m aware of. But he’s their best customer, so if you don’t want the Skip discount, then don’t name drop. But then again, they know this Jeep so, just say thank you and be done with it. Now, just head down Main, and take a right at the next light, and go two more lights, and take a left. It looks like a barn. You can’t miss it.” She patted his hand again and closed the door.

Chad pulled out and drove away, as she waved at him in the rearview mirror.

 

The house was dark when he got home. The sun had set not long ago, and it was pitch dark up the mountain. He left the headlights on while he ran up the steps to the front door. He let himself inside, and called out for Skip. There was no answer. He found the light-switch panel and turned on the outside lights, all the outside lights. The driveway was now as bright as a landing strip. There was no trace of Skip to be found, or bears.

He’d never actually seen a bear in the woods before this morning. Suddenly, images of marauding bears filled his imagination. Bears. Heavily-armed bears in green berets attacking out of the dark. Rambo bears.

Chad grabbed the tote bags he’d been given on his shopping trip. No plastic bags in this town, it seemed. Very progressive of them. Like some weird mountain utopia where Skip was a god.

He locked the Jeep and locked the doors behind him. He left on the outside lights, because bears lived in these woods, and dropped off his bags in the kitchen. He put the food away, and was about to head upstairs when he heard a phone ring in the office. He backtracked to see if Skip was around. He wasn’t. There was a green library lamp still glowing on the desk, and the desk phone lit up as it rang. He reached for it, wondering if he should answer or let it go to voicemail, but it stopped ringing before he got to it. He started to turn off the lamp, but the neat stack of papers beside the keyboard caught his attention. He picked up the first set labeled Murder on the Appalachian Trail.

He realized he was holding notes for a manuscript, and put it back where he’d found it. He remembered the books in the tote bag, and found a light switch in the room. He wanted to see if Skip had a copy of the book he’d bought, or the one Skip had unknowingly bought for him. If there was already a copy, Chad would take that one back tomorrow.

He’d been in the office that afternoon, but hadn’t gotten a good look around. Now with all the bookcases lit up like Christmas, he felt like Belle in the Beast's library. So many books. So little time to read.

He perused the shelves. They weren’t kidding back at the bookstore; Skip was a mystery-suspense junkie. He had a little bit of everything from Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie to SW Simpson.

In fact, he had all the SW Simpson books, in hardcover and paperback. He had several copies of every SW Simpson book, all in mint condition and in a glassed-in bookcase.

“Son of a bitch.” Chad pulled out the original copy of the Girl Scout book with its crisp dust cover and leafed through it. It had never been read. None of them had ever been read. “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”

He laughed, connecting some weird dots. Why Skip would own a bookstore. Why his friends said he was loaded. Why he lived like a hermit in a palatial mountain cabin and kept weird hours. Why all the SW Simpson books were set in the woods.

Because an avid outdoorsman wrote the damned things between treks. That’s why he never had a job.

Chad chuckled to himself. Didn’t explain the dog-eared paperback in his luggage.

He put the books back, and grabbed the Robb book, because Skip did not seem to have that copy, and turned off the lights. Back in the kitchen, he set out the deli items he’d picked up for dinner, and grabbed the clothes and other things he’d bought for himself, and jogged up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to the guest room where he’d left his things.

Just the boxes were left in the room, tucked away in a corner out of the way. His laundry and gear weren’t where he left them. He turned off the light, and found the switch on the upper landing. Skip’s door was closed. He knocked; there was no answer. He turned the knob, and it opened easily, letting light from the landing inside to beam across the prone body on the bed. The nude prone body on the bed.

In a SW Simpson novel, there would be a blood pool. Chad unlaced his boots and stepped out of them in the hallway. He didn’t want to wake the man too quickly. He left his jacket and cover on top of his boots and socks. His blouse was left on the floor, just inside the door, followed by the undershirt and belt. The buckle rattled as it hit the wood floor. Skip didn’t budge. He lay on his stomach with one arm wrapped around the pillow Chad had slept on. One leg bent at the knee, the top of his foot draped over the back of his calf. His dick peeked out from beneath his thigh. Chad trembled. He didn’t know why. Because he was thinking about things that he shouldn’t think. Like licking his way up the man’s body. Or parting his… Jesus, that would be rape. Go back to kissing, and waiting for the right time to put things where he desperately wanted to put them.

“I can hear you staring,” Skip muttered, his eyes still closed. He wiggled his toes, but didn’t make any move to cover himself. “If you want to do any of what you’re thinking, I will not say no.”

“I have a question,” Chad whispered, wondering what he was about to say, because he had no idea what question he had.

“If it’s with clothes or without, the answer is definitely the latter,” Skip murmured, his voice sleep clogged and drowsy.

Chad worked his button and zipper as fast as he could, and shoved his trousers and shorts down, and stepped out.

“Keep the dog tags. I want to feel those drag across my skin.” Skip managed a sound in his throat that sounded like a purr, and Chad’s entire body went tight.

He crawled into the bed, and dragged his tags up the man’s leg and over the curve of his ass, taking a moment to bite the dimple at the very top of each cheek. Skip rolled onto his side beneath him, and hooked an arm around Chad’s neck. “What did you want to ask me?” he whispered, his eyes opening slowly, the wicked, emerald flame already burning behind the lids.

Chad forgot. Skip’s mouth on his tended to make him forget everything. Chad planted his hands on either side of Skip’s shoulders, allowing him to roll onto his back between Chad’s legs. His fully erect dick brushed Chad’s hip as he rolled. “If I had known kissing could be this nice, I’d have tried it a long time ago,” Chad managed to say between kisses.

“That doesn’t sound like a question,” Skip answered, smiling against Chad’s lips.

“I forgot what I was going to ask,” Chad admitted, his elbows going weak as Skip slowly licked his bottom lip.

“Mmm, that’s a shame.” Skip skimmed his fingertips over Chad’s face, his thumbs brushing the corners of Chad’s mouth. He smiled as Chad’s elbows gave out, and he collapsed on top of Skip’s very hard, very hot body. “Maybe this will jog your memory,” Skip whispered, licking Chad’s lips gently. Chad opened for him, accepting his tongue into his mouth as Skip rocked his hips, so slowly, beneath Chad. “Wrap your arms around me.”

Chad slipped his arms beneath Skip’s shoulders without stopping to think twice. He could feel Skip’s heart beating against his chest. He could taste his breath with every sigh, as the kiss went from slow to hot and heavy. Chad groaned as Skip ran his hands down his back to grip his ass with strong fingers. He rocked his hips to the rhythm Skip set, making Skip growl into his mouth. He dragged his knees up, as he moved his legs wider, spreading Chad’s thighs as he planted his feet on the bed, and drove Chad crazy. “Skip…” Chad couldn’t think of a single thing to say; he just needed to say his lover’s name.

Skip seemed to have the same need. “Chad,” he whispered Chad’s name almost, as if he was in pain.

Chad closed his eyes, and let the man’s hands and mouth take control of him. He let himself feel… everything. Grinding his body into the hard body beneath him, he groaned into the silence of the room, and tried not to fall apart.

Skip’s answering groan was one of agony. Strong, rough fingers dug into his flesh, and the room spun out from under him, and Chad found himself lying on his back with his legs around Skip’s waist. “Fuck…” he wheezed the word, trying to catch his breath. Skip chuckled as he pushed himself up on his hands to hold himself off Chad.

“Working on getting there.” Skip bore down on him, grinding his hips and his cock along Chad’s now slippery belly, his own cock sliding right back. It was Chad’s turn to grab Skip’s ass and assert his own demanding pressure. “Oh, fuck.” Skip gasped for breath and broke away. “Oh, god, fuck me now.”

He leaned over Chad with a look of surprise in his eyes, breathing heavily but not touching him. “Skip…” Chad felt the chill in the air as it washed over his sweaty body. Along with the chill came the shame of losing himself like that… to a man.

“Not stopping, baby. Just catching my breath, and trying not to come.” He dragged a hand along Chad’s rib cage, making him tremble, to grasp the dog tags that stuck to his sweaty chest. “Don’t come. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t go far; he leaned over Chad to the table, and turned on the lamp to bring the room into full light. He was as flushed and sweaty as Chad felt. The drawer slid open and he was back with a black bottle in his hands. He flipped the cap and squeezed a handful of clear liquid into his palm. Chad didn’t have time to figure out what the liquid was before Skip wrapped his slick hand around his cock and stroked him, hard and fast, pulling his foreskin over the head of his cock to work the slick into him. “Fuck my hand,” he demanded, and Chad was helpless to resist. “Tell me you want me. Tell me that this is what you want, Chad. Before this gets… messy.”

“I want you. And this. And messy. I want messy. I want to be messy with you.” Chad thrust his hips into Skip’s hand as Skip shifted over to straddle Chad’s thighs.

Skip leaned over him again, putting his face in Chad’s again. He didn’t kiss this time. “I haven’t been with a man in six years. I haven’t taken a dick inside me in longer than that. I want you to know that.”

Chad could only stare into Skip’s eyes as he whispered. He nodded, wondering why it was important now. He felt Skip arch his back, and saw the brief flash of pain enter his eyes, before he felt the tight heat squeeze the tip of his dick. Skip gripped him tight in his fist as he guided Chad inside his body, and Chad held perfectly still. He bit his lip, as Skip breathed out a harsh gasp in his face.

“Oh, Chad, yes. Oh, baby, you feel good. This feel good? You okay with this?” The words were barely audible. His eyes rolled as Chad’s dick pushed through a tight ring of muscle that had Chad gasping with him, to slide freely… and deeply… way too quickly. “Fuck,” Skip shouted, clawing Chad’s shoulder as his entire cock slid home. “Don’t move. Please don’t move.

Chad didn’t so much as blink until the pain left Skip’s eyes. Skip lowered his mouth to cover Chad’s again; his tongue pushed past Chad’s lips to tangle with Chad’s. The first slide of withdrawal had Chad gasping and begging for him not to leave him. Skip kissed him harder and flexed his hips. “Kiss me,” Skip begged against his mouth. “Fuck me.”

Chad wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him flat to his chest. He kissed him, losing his mind in the taste of the man. Spreading his legs wide, he mimicked Skip’s pose from a few minutes ago, and dug his heels into the mattress. He held Skip to him and thrust his hips, hard, and fast, pushing his cock into the incredible heat that throbbed around him. Skip cried out as Chad hit a spot deep inside him. The harder he hit it, the louder Skip got. The more he trembled in Chad’s arms, the harder he sucked on Chad’s tongue.

Chad grabbed his ass and shoved him down on his cock as he drove it into him. Hard. Hammering that spot that made Skip howl and shake as Chad sucked his tongue into his mouth, and took away his control. Skip screamed into his mouth, his body shaking violently in Chad’s arms. He rammed himself harder onto Chad with each up thrust, as the muscles seemed to suck Chad inside, and hold him hostage. The scalding heat between their already overheated bodies should have clued Chad in, he didn’t understand until Skip’s shuddering orgasm sucked his fucking brain out the head of his dick. He arched off the bed, taking Skip with him, pumping ten years’ worth of need into the man’s willing body.

Skip broke their kiss and flung his head back as more scalding heat spattered Chad’s belly and chest. His eyes rolled hard back in his head, and Skip collapsed onto Chad pinning him to the bed.

Chad lay sprawled under the man, holding him, hoping he was breathing. The question he’d wanted to ask came back to him, and he chuckled.

“What?” Skip said breathlessly, his mouth moving against Chad’s chest. He still couldn’t move. But then neither could Chad.

“Nothing. I just remembered what I wanted to ask. Doesn’t matter.” Nothing mattered anymore. His world was rocked. There was no going back now.

Skip managed to gain control of his neck; he cocked his chin on Chad’s chest and looked up at him, curiosity in his eyes. “Ask.”

Chad cupped his face much like Skip was fond of doing for him, and swiped his thumbs over his swollen bottom lip. The one Chad had made swollen. “I was wondering what the W stands for? Mr. SW Simpson.”

Skip laughed, and rolled slowly off Chad, easing his soft dick from his body as he moved. He laid half sprawled on Chad with his arm draped possessively over Chad’s belly. His lips found Chad’s and kissed him lightly. “Wallace.”

“Skipper Wallace Simpson.” Chad mulled that over. “I never knew your last name. I didn’t realize that until today. It is Simpson, right? That’s not just a pen name?”

It was Skip’s turn to chuckle, then sigh. “Wallace and Simpson were my parents’ last names. They never married. I don’t have a middle name, not complaining. My first name is bad enough.”

“Skip isn’t that bad. Or is it really Skipper?”

He felt Skip wince and take a deep breath. “Skip is the name I gave myself after my parents died, and I left the commune behind.”

Chad rolled in his arms, forcing Skip to look at him. He smoothed his hand along Skip’s hip to rest it over his waist, as he slipped his knee between Skip’s legs. “If I asked, would you tell me your real name? It can’t be that bad.”

The smile that flashed through Skip’s eyes was mostly sad. “Saffron. My name is Saffron Wallace Simpson.”

Chad tried not to laugh. He failed. Skip slapped his ass, which made him laugh harder. “I’m sorry. I am not yelling that when you fuck me. It’s not happening.”

The sorrow left his eyes, and Skip smiled a real smile this time. He slapped Chad’s ass again for good measure and said, “Good boy. Smart boy.”

“Slap my ass again, old man, and I will not be held accountable for what happens next,” he said, his dick liking the abuse way too much.

Skip slapped him again, the laughter gone from his eyes. The green shimmering with heat as he rolled Chad on top of him. His hand stinging as it landed another blow. “Bring that up here so I can taste it properly.”

Chad groaned, and did as he was told. “Yessir,” he said, which made Skip groan. He climbed Skip’s body and held onto the headboard, watching his dick disappear inside Skip’s mouth until they were both moaning.