Tate nodded, and his heart flipped over at Reno’s kindness and generosity. Words escaped him, so he leaned forward and kissed Reno with everything he felt in that moment.
* * *
“You taste like strawberry,”Reno said when the kiss finally ended. He ran his tongue over his lips. “I wonder if you taste the same in . . . other places.”
Tate groaned. “Hurry up and find Bryan so we can get out of here.”
“Right.” Reno was having trouble forming full sentences, but he was on a mission now. “Yes.”
Reno weaved through the crowd while the blood in his veins thrummed with excited energy. He found Bryan standing by the bar, talking with Grady, and slammed the tip jar on the counter harder than he’d intended. Both men’s heads snapped to him, their eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Sorry,” Reno said sheepishly. “I gotta go. Bryan, please give this to your local LGBT center. And thank you again for letting me play.”
“Thank you, Reno,” Bryan started, but Reno didn’t hear if he said anything else.
He spun around and crashed into Tate, who he hadn’t realized had followed him to the bar. God, he was gorgeous. Reno could not wait a single second longer. It wasn’t humanly possible. He needed Tate fiercely. Alone and naked and sweating and flushed. He grabbed Tate’s hand.
“Come.”
Bryan and Grady’s knowing laughter echoed behind him as he dragged Tate out of the event room and across the lobby. His free hand was on the handle of the large glass door that led outside when Tate tugged him back.
“We need our jackets,” Tate said with a wince.
Reno cursed under his breath. He looked outside, back where they’d just come from, and outside again. They could make it, right? It wasn’tthatfar, and they could warm each other up. He trembled, picturing their bodies writhing together.
Tate laughed. “You stay here. I’ll go get them.”
“Run,” Reno growled.
Reno stepped outside while he waited for Tate to return and welcomed the cold blast of air. That was exactly what he needed to temper the raging desire pounding inside his body.
The doors swung open, and Tate spilled out. He tossed Reno’s jacket at him and kept walking. Reno shoved his arms into his jacket sleeves as he walked. He fell into silent and determined step beside Tate. The snow had all but stopped, the path had been cleared, and the walk to the cabin wasn’t all that long, but to Reno, it felt like an eternity. His breath puffed out before him, fragile silk clouds on a chilly night, and led the way.
He noticed colorful lights on a few of the cabins and briefly thought that he and Tate should put lights up on theirs too.Nah. He’d rather spend whatever time they had left stranded in bed with Tate. Surely, they could survive on eggs and toast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for however long it took the crews to clear the roads.
Finally, their cabin came into view, and Reno picked up the pace.
Tate overtook him on the front porch, shoved the door open with enough force that it banged against the wall inside, and started kicking off his shoes while struggling out of his jacket before Reno fully cleared the threshold. He smiled, charmed that Tate was as eager as he was to get horizontal. Or vertical. Or whatever. The position didn’t matter so long as they were naked.
Reno kicked the door shut behind him, and Tate was on him. Kissing him with frantic need as he clumsily helped him out of his jacket.
Reno chuckled into Tate’s mouth. “Let me.”
Reno yanked his arms free, and his jacket fell to the floor without care. His boots were off without any recollection of physically removing them. The only thing he could think of was Tate in his arms. Tate kissing him. Tate scrabbling at him, hands grabbing his back, his neck, cupping his face, his ass.
Reno held Tate tightly but nudged him backward.
“Bedroom,” he gasped. “Now.”
“Bossy. I like it.”
Reno grabbed at Tate’s shirt and started unbuttoning it as Tate swooped in for another powerful kiss while they stumbled toward the bedroom like a couple of drunks. The shirt fell to the ground, and Reno worked open Tate’s pants. Tate pulled Reno’s shirt up and over his head, and he growled his complaint at the interrupted kiss. Free of his shirt, Reno dove back in for Tate’s mouth. He couldn’t get enough. Tate tasted sweet like strawberry but with a sharp bite from whatever alcohol had been in the shooters. He chased Tate’s tongue, wanted to crawl inside with him. To lose himself in the one man who’d starred in his every erotic dream since he was a kid.
They crashed into the bed, and Tate pulled Reno down on top of him as he fell backward. Reno kissed Tate’s mouth, his chin, and nibbled down his throat to his collarbone as Tate heaved beneath him. Reno eased back and slid his hands slowly over Tate’s chest. He twirled his fingers in the fine red hairs that dusted Tate’s pecs and abs. His mouth watered as he soaked up all that masculine beauty on display just for him.
“You are gorgeous,” he whispered reverently.
“I was thinking the same of you,” Tate panted.
