“Body heat,” Jackson insisted. He knew it was nothing more than a hookup, an overspill of the tension that had been simmering between them, but something about this moment felt bigger than any other hookup he’d ever had.
Jackson expected things to be awkward in the morning, like the day before had been. This was Elliot Owens; he’d never met a situation he couldn’t make uncomfortable. But Jackson was determined not to let him. Because the problem was, now that he was starting to understand him, to spend time with him away from the pressures of everything in London, he was starting to like Elliot.
Like, really like him.
And that was…probably not good.Jackson always fell hard and fast, and he knew he was setting himself up for a world of regret.
Especially because this wasn’t entirely a new phenomenon. He’d been developing an unhealthy interest in Elliot Owens for a while, if he was honest, and he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. Even when he’d been avoiding him, he’d found the man fascinating. He was worried that whatever tentative thing was happening between them—rivals with benefits? Rivals with Bennies? Rennies?Jackson tried to stop his brain from derailing; he was pretty sure that was a brand of antacids. Regardless, he was worried thisthingwould end before he had a chance to figure out why he was always so affected by Elliot Owens. Because he knew, without a doubt, that the second hewoke up, Elliot was going to try to write this off as a one-time thing; as momentary madness. He could already feel him pulling away, even in his sleep, picture his eyes going cold as he relegated Jackson back to the status of an irritating fly.
Jackson didn’t want to let him do that. They had three weeks left here; there was no reason they shouldn’t make the most of them. He wrapped his arms tighter around Elliot’s body, and Elliot shifted as he began to wake, dragging his arse deliciously over Jackson’s morning wood.
“Well, good morning to you,” Jackson whispered as he let his hands roam over Elliot’s chest.
Elliot groaned as Jackson pinched his nipple gently. “Jennings.”
“Yes, Owens?” he asked innocently as he continued his ministrations.
“We have training. We have to get back.”
Jackson hummed in agreement, trailing his hands lower. “Are you going to be nice to me at training today?”
“Absolutely not,” Elliot groaned. “I don’t do nice.”
Jackson let his hands fall away. “That’s a shame. I’m nice.”
“Ok, I suppose I can do nice, just this once,” Elliot replied as he turned, facing Jackson and kissing him hard on the mouth. Surprised but eager, Jackson returned the kiss with vigour as he took Elliot’s cock in his hand.
Pulling back, he laughed lightly as Elliot gave a disappointed mewl. Jackson wanted to get his mouth on him—it wasn’t fair that he hadn’t had a chance to taste Elliot last night.
“No one can know about this,” Elliot whispered.
Jackson grinned. “That implies there’s something to know about.”
“I’m serious, Jennings. The press back at the hotel, Anders… I can’t risk anything getting out. This has to be it. Once we take that gondola down, we’re less than nothing.”
Jackson didn’t want that, but he’d follow Elliot’s lead if that was what he needed. He was an expert at ignoring Elliot Owens, or at least pretending to.
“I know. Now, stop worrying and let's enjoy the privacy while we’ve got it,” he said as he kissed the inside of Elliot’s upper thigh and felt the blond melt against him.
Chapter 14
Elliot
St. Moritz, March 20th, 5 Months to the Olympics
Elliot was surprised by how natural things had felt with Jennings. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected of the morning after. Regret, probably.
On both sides.
He still couldn’t believe he’d done it. He’d replayed Ilaria’s words a thousand times in his head between dinner and meeting Jennings at the gondola. He had decided not to push things, to ignore his attraction and focus on what he was here to do. But then Jennings had started blabbering about getting a new tent, and the idea of not being able to curl into his warmth in the night had left Elliot feeling hollow. He’d tried to do what Jennings had been on about and offer an olive branch, friendship, good sportsmanship or whatever…but then, he’d lost control of himself and practically jumped the man. With surprisingly positive results.
But yeah, he’d expected regret.
Elliot watched in fascination as Jackson packed the rest of their camping gear into the backpacks they’d borrowed from the hotel. A faint chill lingered in the morning air, dew sparkled onthe mossy floor, and the peaks above were dusted with a thin layer of snow that caught the early sunlight. It was still early, and the woods were beautiful in the faint golden light with birds chirping in the trees. He gingerly sipped the scalding hot instant coffee they had made on the little camping stove, massaging his still aching ankle.
“Let’s get your ankle taped before we head back,” Jackson said, heading for Elliot with a roll of kinesiology tape in hand. He was being suspiciously accommodating. Elliot wondered what he’d expect in return.
Jackson knelt on the forest floor and looked up at Elliot with that cheeky grin that he was sure he’d hated a few days ago. Now he couldn’t get enough of it. A thin mist curled around their ankles, and the cold from the shade pressed against Elliot’s skin, making the warmth of Jackson’s hands feel even more comforting. But he had to shut that down; this was a one-time thing. It would be too risky back at the hotel, with all the reporters and other athletes around.
