His lips pressed against mine with a smile that I licked away, desperate to get inside his mouth, to get a taste of him on my tongue. He opened with a slight sigh, and let me take control. I liked the firm feel of his warm mouth, the eager chase of his lips to mine as he took the control right back.
Jack’s kiss wasn’t a kiss to show me how he wanted to be kissed or how he could, it was exploratory and sweet. A warm, eager mouth that was going to take its time. Likehe wanted to know how I wanted to be kissed, but he was going to let his lips do the asking. The effect was that he kissed me, but that only left me wanting more just like the feel of his body did - leaving more questions than answers.
Jack’s lips were perfect for kissing, full with the barest scratch of stubble, and I wanted to dive into their warmth. He tasted sweet, familiar and tangy at the same time, like a hint of citrus still left on his tongue.
Jack was just as responsive as I imagined, his muscles rolling underneath my touch. I pulled him against me, closer but still not close enough. We smiled into each other’s mouths, still nipping for a taste.
“What is this?” I asked against the edge of his mouth, not sure if I mean this thread that seemed to hang between us, pulling us together, or the buzzy feeling, or where the kiss was leading. I had been with plenty of other men, but none that made me feel this much, this fast.
Jack pulled back, his ungloved hand resting against my cheek for a moment. I felt his thumb brush against the side of my lips, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his.
He understood my question, even though I hadn’t been very good at asking it.
“It’s just my mouth on yours, Perrin. Easy,” he said, brushing a kiss against my lips - it is almost too fleeting to even be called one.
“I want my hands on you, Jack,” I ground out, wanting no misunderstanding between us. I pulled away slightly, and I heard him whisper something under his breath.
“But, Quinn’s, yeah? I’m going to need a minute,” I said.
“No shit,” Jack breathed, his tongue darting over his lip. “That’s two of us.”
Jack
By the time we stumbled into Quinn’s place, I was fairly certain my lips were kiss-stung from Perrin and I might have beard burn, but I didn’t care. I kind of liked that he had marked me in some way before we met up with all the gorgeous men that make up my family. When we arrived, everyone was still in good spirits from our time on the slopes, and Quinn threw some Bear Valley lounge pants and tees at us when we hit the door. I knew he had gotten them out of the gift shop storage below, as he often did when friends skied with us.
“Suits are in the closet, Jacky, you know,” Quinn called after us as he turned back to whatever delicious smells were coming from the kitchen. He paused for a moment, looking at my face carefully, and I felt myself flush. Quinn practically bit his tongue not to say anything, but he shot me a look that let me know there would be questions later. Quinn could read me like a book, just like the first time we ever met.
“Here,” I said, handing a pair of branded lounge pants and a shirt to Perrin. “You can be a walking advertisement like the rest of us,becauseyou know there’s no way to be comfortable in soggy snow gear,” I explained.
Quinn’s place is a large open space, with glass on two sides looking at the main mountain base. The kitchen is massive and open to the living room, with a master suite behind it. The guest bedroom is across the living area, opposite the kitchen, and has anensuite. There isan officeby the guest suite,despite Quinn’s architecture firm also being downstairs in the same building as his loft and his bar.
The kitchen has a huge island open to the living area, which was the main headquarters for us all on nights like these. Liquor bottles and some food Matt or Quinn - probably both - had made was already set out. There is a hot tub on the outside deck to the side of the kitchen area, and the glass panels making the wall from Quinn’s open kitchen and living area to the deck were folded back, but a fire roared in the fireplace keeping a nice temperature indoors despite the open panels.
I led Perrin to where Quinn kept some extra bathing suits in his spare bedroom and threw him one that was roughly my size. He nodded and slipped into the bathroom, leaving his fresh Mann Properties branded pants and shirt on one of the guest bedroom beds. By the time I hadmy suit on, one I kept there, Perrinsteppedout and Iswallowedhard, taking in his muscles and his blonde happy trail.
I remembered him opening the door that afternoon fresh out of the shower, but now I had kissed him, and I have an easier time piecing together everything I couldn’t feel under his snow gear. I stopped cold at the way his muscles moved under his skin, and lifted my eyes to the smirk I know was there, waiting.
“Jack?” he asked, quirking that half smile and that goddamned eyebrow.
I tried not to shiver, or at least, not let him see, but I doubt if I did a good job. Everything he didwas pushing my buttons, all of the buttons that could exist - whether I knew about them beforehand or not. And, he was pushing them all at once.
He gestured at hisborrowed swim trunks, with his still snow-damp hair falling into his eyes. “Are we going swimming?” he asked.
I had to laugh, and I realized how easily he had just gone with the flow of what was somewhat routine for all of us. He fit in so well it was hard to imagine he hadn’t been right here with us doing this for years, not just for the first time. Instead, he has no clue what was going on, but stripped down and put the trunks on without asking. He must be relaxed and self-assured as hell and that sort of confidencewasalways intoxicating to me.
“Hot tub,” I said, gesturing back to the main area, and suddenly he smiled his sunshine smile, lighting his whole face up.
We weren’t even halfway out of the guest bedroom before Baylor led him out to the deck.I ducked into the kitchen where Quinnwaspredictably working with Matt to put some food together, both with still-wet hair from the hot tub themselves, but now clad in lounge pants and tees, not unlike those that were thrown to me and Perrin when we first arrived.
We were like a Bear Valley advertisement.
It was a typical Mann evening when we had the chance to ski most of the afternoon. Or run if it wasn’t the season. Or hike. Or run some rapids. Or whatever else we could find to do.
Quinn handed me two full metal pilsners, and I knew from the look on his face that Iwouldn'tget away that easily, so I helped out with a few quick tasks around the kitchen, knowing comments will be made when he’s done giving me enough side-eye.
“So, Perrin’s a bit of fun,” Quinn smirked, making “bit of fun” sound like “hot piece of ass.” Quinn can always puzzle people out, so I bet he couldcategorize the inappropriate thoughts Iwashaving about our new friend. Well, probably all my brothers could,but only Quinn would actually say anything.
“He’s fucking gorgeous,” Matt supplied, a bit more oblivious, just being honest. “Every gay man in Bear Valley is going to be knocking on his door.”
