Memphis’s breath erupted from his lips in a short gasp. “I don’t moan.”
Preacher scoffed. “Oh, you moan. And whimper and gasp and pant, and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I plan on hearing it a lot more. Maybe I’ll record it so you can hear just how hot you sound.”
“We should definitely leave now,” Memphis said, squeezing Preacher’s hand before letting it go to snag the cart and lead it towards the front. Preacher snickered, walking behind Memphis so he could keep an eye on their surroundings as they checked out.
All in all, it took seven hours, two bathroom breaks, and a trip to In and Out Burger to get to the isolated property. Preacher pulled up to a call box that stood just outside a ten-foot brick fence that seemed grossly out of place in the pristine wilderness of snow blanketed forest. The drive from the gate to the house took another five minutes or so, Preacher’s truck tires crunching over ice and slush. Except it wasn’t a house, exactly.
“Is that…” Memphis asked, trailing off.
“A treehouse?” Preacher asked. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.”
They stared at the small house perched in the trees for a long minute before Memphis said, “That’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jackson sure does have a hard-on for unique properties.”
Preacher smiled at Memphis’s enthusiasm. While the house was suspended in the thick branches overhead, underneath somebody had used the framework to create a small porch with a swing and a tabletop firepit. A spiral staircase on the left hand side led to the house itself and, presumably, the front door. A light blanket of snow also dusted the stairs and the furniture beneath the house.
Memphis didn’t seem to notice or care about the cold. He was out of the truck the moment it came to a halt, stopping only long enough to free the boys. “Come on, guys.”
Then he was running for the stairs, boots crunching over frozen grass, with Bo and Luke eagerly giving chase, leaving Preacher to grab what he could before he joined them, his breaths leaving his lips like puffs of smoke as he punched in the key code on the solid door.
Preacher knew from experience that all of Jackson’s properties had solid steel doors with solid steel frames and deadbolts reinforced with three-inch screws. It didn’t make a door indestructible, but it would sure slow anyone attempting to gain entry. Still, he questioned the rationale for having a house in the trees with seemingly only one exit, but Preacher quickly shook it off.
The house opened up into the kitchen, leading to a small cozy sitting area with a couch, a television, and a fireplace. There was a small kitchen table where Preacher dropped the bags and studied the place. The living room had a large picture window, likely reinforced glass, but somebody had taken the time to strategically angle the furniture so that nobody could get a good shot at anybody, even if they attempted to climb a tree to line up their angles.
There were two small bedrooms on either side of the little house, both easily seen from the center as they were little more than a bed beneath a slanted glass roof, but still plenty of room for two people to sleep comfortably. When he walked across the little room to get a fire started, he felt a change in the density of the wood floors. Underneath, an ugly Persian rug was a trap door that opened to the patio below. Interesting. It wasn’t a huge drop thanks to the built up patio beneath but he wouldn’t call it a convenient escape plan either. Hopefully, they didn’t need one.
“Pick a room. I’m going to go let the boys use the bathroom and get a lay of the property.”
Memphis looked up at him, startled. “Oh, um… I guess whichever one you don’t want is fine.”
There was no hiding the disappointment in his tone. Shit. Why was Preacher so bad at this? He strode to where Memphis stood, now staring at his shoes. “I meant pick a room for us. Okay?”
Memphis flushed, a small smile creeping across his lips. Preacher couldn’t help but kiss the pout from his mouth before gently reminding him, “Stay away from the windows.”
Memphis nodded.
Outside, Preacher kept the boys off their leashes, knowing they’d come back with little more than a whistle from him. He wanted them familiar with their surroundings and the scents native to the space. It made it easier for them to pick up on anybody who shouldn’t be there. They were seemingly alone for miles, surrounded by nothing but trees and winds that blew snow from the branches and sent it floating through the air, but Preacher wasn’t willing to take that chance. If there was one thing he knew with certainty, it was to never let your guard down.
When the dogs finished, he retreated back to the cabin, scraping the mud and snow from his boots on the scraper attached near the door before re-entering. Memphis was in the small kitchen space just inside the door, putting away the groceries. He smiled with relief when he saw Preacher and the boys. He held up the dog treats they’d purchased at the store. “Can I?”
He nodded, watching as Memphis fed the boys their liver snacks. When they finished, Preacher made a noise and the boys retreated to the small living room, dropping down in front of the fire, turning their snouts toward the heat before collapsing into sleep.
Memphis nodded towards the stone hearth. “I hope you don’t mind. I was freezing.”
“Not at all.”
“The television is broken,” Memphis said, turning back around to finish putting away the food. “Well, I guess broken isn’t the right word. There’s only a power button and no remote, and I don’t know what channel it’s on but they appear to be in the middle of a week long America’s Next Top Model marathon.”
Memphis had put on his new clothes. He wore his new gray sweatpants lined with fleece and a blue henley the same color as his eyes. Had he also put on those tight striped boxer briefs Preacher had watched him add to the cart? He bet they hugged Memphis’s ass perfectly.
Preacher was moving without thought, trapping Memphis against the counter, his lips finding the damaged skin between his collar and his hairline.
Memphis sucked in a breath. “Hello,” he murmured.
“Hi,” Preacher growled, his hands sliding up under Memphis’s shirt, thumbing over his nipples, playing for a moment, before sliding lower, letting his palms skim the planes of his abs, slipping into his loose fitting sweats to cup his already semi-hard cock. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about touching you all day.”
“You have?” Memphis asked, sounding more smug than surprised.
Preacher pressed his erection against Memphis’s lower back. “You know I have, you little tease.”
