Chapter Two

  The door slammed into the wall, rattling the windows and practically shaking the walls. Before he could caution Cannon about the thin walls and the need for quiet, Finn had an armful of awkward gangly limbs at odds with the fluid grace of a man who'd made a puffy down coat look like a ballet costume. The reminder of Cannon looking like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man made him smile.

  The man who’d appeared at the dinner table had been lean and sophisticated, his conversation witty and intelligent. The bumbling, frustrated, shivering helpless man he'd met in the parking lot had disappeared, and while he'd been charmed and pleased to find himself with a date who could discuss the decline of the English language, foreign films, and the joys of a soft jazz band, Finn had been disappointed as well.

  Even when he'd deliberately tried to bring back the confused Cannon of their parking lot encounter by reminding him that they weren't strangers, Cannon had remained polite and casual. And blank. He'd clearly forgotten all about Finn. The phone conversation that had stirred his fantasies had apparently been so far from memorable for his companion, that Cannon hadn't even remembered his name! It wasn't until Finn invited him to use the diminutive of his name that Cannon had finally connected all the dots and even then, Finn could tell that the memory wasn't strong.

  Cannon wasn't who he was looking for, at least not this Cannon. The one he'd built in his mind, the one he'd imagined over the phone while making the arrangements for Cannon to pick up his keys to the cabin at Mountain Shadow from Jillian, with the hesitant voice and stuttering, the tentative almost timid way of talking, the one who'd needed an epic hero to take charge? That man was clearly all in his imagination.

  With a mental shrug, he consigned his vision of himself as the conquering hero, saving the world and his man from all manner of life's little traumas to the realms of fantasy, and determined to enjoy what he'd found. A hot, willing bed partner who evidently had a lot of energy to work off.

  Cannon’s lips on his were desperate and hard, kissing, biting, grinding against his lips until Finn had no choice but to open his mouth and suck him in or push him away and chastise him. Hunger burned a soft, insistent flame in his belly, urging him to give in, to give Cannon the fast hard loving he obviously wanted so desperately.

  There would be time before Sunday afternoon rolled around and they had to head back to Mountain Shadow. Time enough for long slow loving, for breakfast in bed, and more of that soul feeding conversation that had kept them in the dining room until the manager coughed discreetly and smiled at them weakly.

  There would be time to…Cannon's hands burrowed under his sweater, digging under Finn's waistband, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the icy touch. Cold fingers filled the space he'd left, seeking and closing around his cock.

  "Commando?" Cannon breathed. "I like it. Ready…" The murmur wasn't really conversation, more commentary, so Finn stared at the wall over Cannon's head, while Cannon looked down, working his fingers along Finn's length, creating icy trails of sensation that left a flaring heat in their path.

  The cool touch was strangely compelling, inciting his passion, but at the same time clinical and methodical. A dexterous thumb brushed over his tip, he bit his lip and leaned hard into the wall, feeling it press into his shoulders. He'd thought to indulge a bed partner's tastes, and instead found himself spiraling out of control. If he didn't slow down the pace of his own arousal, he'd orgasm embarrassingly fast.

  "One…two…" He continued counting, staving off pleasure as long as he could so Cannon could explore as much as he wanted to.

  Cool air brushed over his groin, and he realized that Cannon had opened his trousers, brought his cock out into the open air. Finn switched to Norwegian when he saw Cannon's tongue, a wet pink beacon of intent, poke between his lips.

  "Tre, fire, fem, seks…"

  "God yes, sex…please?" Luminous blue eyes met his and Finn's breath whooshed out in shock. Cannon's eyes were full of heat and need and uncertainty he probably wasn’t even aware of.

  He gathered his own intentions again. His heart exulted, his entire being suffused with pleasure that went beyond the physical. He'd been right. So fucking right. Cannon put on a good front, but those eyes couldn't hide shit from someone who could see. "Yes," he whispered. Putting his hands on Cannon's shoulders, he absorbed the shudder, the sudden relaxation of tension in the thin wiry frame.

  They understood each other. And while his soul crowed and his mind was busy forming plans and acknowledging dreams he'd never voiced his entire life, Finn's body took control, pushing Cannon to the edge of the bed, tugging the man's shirt from the waistband of his pants, tossing it to the side in a manner that would have appalled his normally disciplined self. He dragged a fine leather belt from its hoops and gave it a considering pause, watching Cannon's chest heave and his pearly teeth catch his lower lip.

  Another time.

  For now, he felt an immediate need to claim this man, to assuage the fire of lust that Cannon clearly felt as well.

  Cannon's storm of movement had stilled, he'd become almost docile, lifting his hips to allow Finn to tug off his trousers, ducking his head as he rolled down his underwear. When the older man was nude, Finn nudged him backward on the bed and stripped off his own garments as he watched a blushing Cannon scrabble backward until he bumped the headboard of the bed.

  Pausing a moment with his jeans in his hand, he tipped his head to the side and offered reluctantly, "We don't actually have to do this, you know. It's more than I'd expected, more intimate." He added as confusion deepened Cannon's flush.

  "I want it." The mumble was all parking lot man, no sophisticated urban socialite.

  "Then it's yours." He jerked his chin toward the nightstand. "In the top drawer, there're condoms and lube. Get them."

  "That's awfully cocky, don't you think? Were you that certain I'd be putting out?" Cannon seemed displeased by the idea, but he obediently retrieved the requested items.

  "Well, not certain, no. But you could say I was hopeful of some company this evening." Finn folded his own clothes neatly and turned his back to set them on the chair.

  "Where's the second bed?"

  Finn glanced over his shoulder, gratified to bust Cannon staring at his ass. "Pardon?"

  "You said there were two beds, and I could have the hide-a-bed if they didn't have an extra room?"

  Chuckling softly, Finn approached the bed, the heavy weight of his erection swaying. He took in Cannon's hands clenching in the sheets, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Pleased, he addressed the red herring thrown his way. "Oh, well, I lied."

  Luminous blue eyes blinked at him, Cannon's lips worked silently. Finn was on the bed between his legs before Cannon found his voice again. "You seduced me on purpose?"

  Closing his hands on slender ankles, Finn adjusted Cannon's body so that he could creep closer, so that when he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over Cannon, their erections rubbed together.

  Cannon's breath caught and his body shuddered, and Finn knew he had his full attention again. "Not hardly." He saw the acknowledgement of their mutual attraction in Cannon's suddenly slack expression as he ground against Cannon's leaking cock. Moving with steady purpose, he reach over for the condom and lube, licking and sucking at Cannon's narrow lips, feeling them moisten, swell, and part under his attention. When he finally had enough of kissing, he leaned upright, staring down with approval at the changes in Cannon's face. Cool and urbane were long gone. Now, he was hot, sweat beaded on his brow, his lips were plumped from kissing, his eyes melted into deep pools of arousal.

  Casually, Finn set about preparing them, opening and sliding the condom down his length, anointing himself and Cannon's entrance with the slick oil. Cannon shuddered under his touch until his lashes fell and his breath came so fast Finn felt compelled to ask, "You've done this before, right?" It was a foolish question to ask a man some years his senior, but…something about Cannon in his bed seemed virginal
ly awkward, not just uncertain.

  "Right." Cannon nodded jerkily. "Yes. A few times…not recently. There was someone once, but…he had someone else."

  Ahhh….A lost love, a disappointment as the classic writers called it. Bending down again, Finn kissed Cannon's brow tenderly. "I'll be careful." I'll take care of you. There won't be anyone else…

  In true heroic fashion, he determined to make Cannon forget his old lover, make this sex so good that Finn was all he'd remember. He pressed his latex covered cock to Cannon's opening and braced himself on his elbows. Cannon's cock brushed against his bare belly, the newly waxed flesh hypersensitive.

  Cannon gave an odd little noise, something between a whimper and a moan, and before Finn could begin to apply the gentle pressure he had in mind, Cannon's heels dug into his back, dragging him down, forcing him in.

  Cannon's cry was nearly feral, his body opened, and Finn sank to his balls into slick velvet heat.

  "Faen!" he cursed, body jerking. "Cannon! What the hell?"

  "Fuck me, Finn. I need it."

  He blinked back the waves of sensation, forced himself to ignore the demand of his body. He could not let Cannon control him, them, like this. Every instinct he possessed told him it would be a mistake. "I won't hurt you. You don't deserve to be hurt, whatever that drittsekk you were with before told you."

  Wild blue eyes blinked roundly back at him for a second, then Cannon shook his head. "Chance? He didn't…" Again the man lapsed into silent lip twisting. "I can't talk about that, I just really need this…Please?"

  The please tipped the balance, and Finn was back in the frame of mind to indulge his lover's wants. There would be time for tender and slow, he promised himself, gritting his teeth and dragging his cock back to the tight ring of muscle.

  Cannon made that noise again, and his still body became almost impossible to hold as he wiggled and arched, his damp cock sliding over the muscles of Finn's abdomen, his chest heaving.

  Sliding a hand under Cannon, Finn attained leverage and position to allow him to move more freely, and drove forward. The long drawn out moan Cannon released was music to his ears, and he fell into a hard deep rhythm, withdrawing nearly to the point of separation and surging back in again.

  Keeping his gaze locked on Cannon's face, he worked his hips, fighting back his own lust until he felt Cannon's body seize, his muscles stiffen. Finn's breath came fast and hard, his chest heaved, his lungs felt like they were on fire as he struggled to keep up his pace. Give the man what he wants, then teach him to give you what you want, he ordered himself.

  He trembled and shook as Cannon's body clenched around him, a spray of hot liquid smeared across his belly and spasms of ecstasy shook Cannon. The second shot dribbled between them as Finn shuddered into his own release, plunging deep into the clinging depths and groaning as rippling muscles milked his orgasm from him.

  He caught himself on his elbows as his body relaxed in the aftermath, rolling to the side and gathering Cannon's awkward frame against him. Cannon stiffened as though unused to such contact, but then relaxed.

  Finn lay in the semi-darkness of the room, listening to the way their hearts seemed to beat to the same rhythm, tangling their legs together. He liked the way Cannon fit in his arms, liked the contrasts of the man, the sophisticate and the novice, the self-reliant surgeon and the helpless snowbound marshmallow man.

  Cannon's breath evened out, and Finn smiled when he realized the man had relaxed so much he'd fallen asleep. "I think I'll keep you this way, all soft and warm," he whispered, letting his own eyes close. A nap before lesson one in how Dagfinnr Lorensson liked to make love was probably well-advised.