StormingLove Blizzard JensElliot
STORMING LOVE BLIZZARD
Jens & Elliot
SARA YORK
mlrpress
www.mlrpress.com
Jens Arnesen is only looking for a taste of the city, a place to experience Boston. What he finds is a sexy naked man who ends up being more than he bargained for. Elliot Matthews needs a place to stay until the storm blows over and the airports open. Being walked in on by Jens starts out as an annoyance but grows into the best thing in his life. When the skies clear and the airports open, they have no choice but to part. If only they lived closer to each other then life would be perfect.
When the storm throws them together, can Jens and Elliot make the most of the situation?
Copyright Acknowledgement
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Sara York
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by
MLR Press, LLC
3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.
Albion, NY 14411
Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:
www.mlrpress.com
Cover Art by Kris Jacen
Editing by Kris Jacen
ebook format
Issued 2015
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.
CHAPTER ONE
Jens Arnesen clutched his backpack against his chest with one hand and held onto the subway rail with the other, praying that he’d make it to the room before the snow really started to come down. His Rollaboard suitcase was wedged between his leg and the metal pole, tilting precariously each time the track shifted. Riding the subway in Boston wasn’t like riding in New York, where the train cars jerked a bit; in Boston he was forced to hold on for dear life or risk ending up in the lap of the priest sitting behind him.
He’d come to Boston for a writer’s conference that was now being canceled all because of this stupid storm. Well, he’d attended the first two days of the conference and was set to go to the after-conference where he’d delve deeply into screenwriting concepts, but the city was shutting down, and thus the conference was over. At least he had a room with kitchen facilities so he could cook his own meals. His brother’s friend, Ryland, was allowing him to stay in a room he rented out of one of the houses he owned just across the river in Cambridge. Jens could have chosen to stay another night at the hotel, but he honestly hated the sterile nature of the huge box building. His mind couldn’t take another minute sitting in a hotel room, and his stomach couldn’t take one more hotel meal. The lobby was small and distracting, offering no creativity. When he stayed in rented rooms at houses, he felt the vibe of the city and the pulse of the people. Learning the neighborhoods kept him grounded, allowing him to write about real people in real towns, providing him with the inspiration he needed.
The train slowed, and the bright lights of the station filled the subway car. He braced himself for the stop and swayed with the train as it slowed. Amazingly, no one fell over. The earsplitting noise of the breaks echoed throughout the station, and then the train came to a gentle full stop. People around him sighed and clutched their coats closed, trying in vain to get warm before heading up the stairs and into the chilly evening air.
Jens grasped the handle of his Rollaboard, hefting it to carry it up the steps. A blast of cold hit him before he even took the first step to ascend into the open air. Why had he come to Boston at this time of year? He knew it would be cold, but for some reason he’d thought he could beat the weather.
Once at street level, he pulled out his phone and checked the maps. Just a few blocks, and he’d be able to relax. But first, he needed to stop by the grocery store. The clouds in the sky were muted shades of grey and white as they reflected back the lights of the city. It almost didn’t even look dark like evening. Jens pulled his coat lapels closer and sped up his pace, trying to get to the store before it started snowing.
Maybe next time he’d skip the neighborhood feel and just stay at a hotel. He’d be in a warm bed by now if he hadn’t felt the need to get a taste of the city. This was more of a taste than he wanted. Actually, it was less. People were rushing around, and few were taking time to chat. One of the reasons he’d wanted to stay in a quaint little room was so he could try out the local cafés and see people in their natural habitat, but no one wanted to be out in this. The grocery store was a zoo with people grabbing items before heading home. Few people even met his gaze as they rushed through their task. It was disappointing to see so few interacting with others, but the storm of the century was hitting, and he wished he were anywhere but here, too.
Maybe the storm wouldn’t be that bad, and he’d be able to get out and enjoy a bit of local color before the weekend was over.
With two blocks left to go to the house, Jens saw the first flake fall. He looked up at the sky, and it was if Mother Nature took his action as approval to open the heavens. The flakes were huge, turning the sky a beautiful white. The first few clumps had begun to melt on the pavement, but more took their place, building up faster than the ground could melt them.
This was the beginning. He’d be snowed in. Not that Boston usually came to a standstill when it snowed. It wasn’t the South, where everything stopped for three days if one flake fell, but already the roads were covered, and the snow wasn’t abating.
The place he was staying was around the back of a three-story Victorian knockoff. The wood paneling on these houses wasn’t really wood but siding that was already starting to fade. The driveway was covered with snow, and the lawn, too. He left a trail in the snow, marking his path as he trudged to the back of the property. Ryland wasn’t taking care of this place. The bushes looked overgrown, the tree limbs sagging. A small overhang shaded the porch from the snowfall, allowing him a clean spot to place his bag. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it on the entry keypad. After a quick check on the notes on his phone, he typed in the four-digit code, and the lock clicked open. The room was up a short set of stairs and through a glass door.
In the little stairwell, Jens removed his jacket and hung it on the coat tree, wrapping his scarf over the top, hoping everything would dry before he needed to use it again. He picked up his bag of groceries, his backpack, and his suitcase, pleased to be at the room where he could kick off his shoes, take off his clothes, and snuggle under the covers to read before going to sleep. Already the place felt homier than a hotel. His morning alarms were off, and he planned to catch up on sleep since the city would be coated with snow.
Jens opened the door at the top of the stairs, pleased to find that a lamp had been left on for him. Ryland was being too nice. They’d dated once, just for a few short weeks before they figured out they were too much alike to actually date without killing each other. That was when they both lived in DC years ago.
The room was large, with a three-person table set against one wall near the kitchen. The bed looked to be a queen and was covered by a fluffy comforter. The pillows looked soft, and he couldn’t wait to get comfortable.
He took off his shoes and socks, reaching into his bag for his thicker socks that he wore around the house when the cold weather hit. With his socks on, he decided to strip and get really comfortable in his sweats and a T-shirt. His pants were damp from trudging through the snow, so he threw them over the back of a kitchen chair and draped his shirt over the corner of the chair.
He’d bent to pick up his sweats when a door popped open behind him. He rose quickly, almost falling over as he spun around. A totally naked man stepped out of what seemed to be the bathroom, his hands busy rubbing a towel over his hair with all of his body on display.
Jens’ mind went blank, and he stilled. He fought to keep his eyes on the guy’s face, or at least on his neck, but his gaze dipped, straying to the guy’s cock that lay ever so nicely over his low-hanging balls.
“Shit,” the guy said, his voice sharp as the towel moved to cover his privates that Jens had just been staring at.
Jens glanced up, his mouth dry. Adrenalin made itself known as his muscles clenched, and his body began shaking. “Who—why are you here?”
“I have the room for the night. I talked to Adam. He said it was fine.” The guy’s voice was high and agitated, snapping Jens out of his thoughts.
“Adam, who the hell is Adam?” Jens asked, his anger rising with each second.
“The guy who owns this place.”
“No, Ryland owns it. He said—”
“Damn, that boy—hell, Adam is friends with Ryland. They bought this place together. At least that’s what they told me.”
“God, this is impossible.” Jens turned to look at his bag, shocked to see his clothes over the chair. He looked down, realizing that he was standing in front of a stranger in nothing but his underwear—his very revealing yellow boxer briefs with a cute penis pouch that showed off what he had. Of course, he’d just spent a bit of time staring at this stranger’s very beautiful dick, admiring the way his cock hung and the hair covering his balls. Jens cock twitched, and he moaned.
“Listen, it’s not that bad—”
“Not that bad?” Jens spun around, stopping as he caught the look on the guy’s face. “I’m sorry. God, this is awful. You’re naked, and I’m in my underwear. Let me pull on my sweats and then…” Jens trailed off as he watch a sexy smile tilt up the corners of the guy’s lips.
“It’s kind of funny, actually.”
Jens laughed a little. “I don’t even know your name, but I do know what your dick looks like.”
The guy smirked and switched his towel from his right hand to his left before stepping forward and extending his hand. “I’m Elliot Matthews, and I’m freaking embarrassed to be standing here with only a towel covering me.”
“Jens Arnesen, and you shouldn’t be. You have a great body.” Heat filled his face, making him wish he hadn’t said anything.
Elliot blushed, his cheeks pinking up before he glanced away. A shiver shook Elliot’s body, and Jens smiled, wondering if this wasn’t as bad as he originally thought it would be.
“I should probably get dressed,” Elliot said.
“Yeah, same here. So what are we going to do?”
Elliot turned, giving Jens a beautiful view of his backside. A little groan escaped his lips. He prayed it wasn’t loud enough to be heard, but from the way Elliot turned back and stared at him, he knew the man had heard his little faux pas. Elliot lifted a brow, and Jens couldn’t help but feel bad.
“Sorry, just…never mind. I’ll leave. I got here last. The place is yours.”
Elliot reached out, grasping on to Jens arm. They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them crackling with desire and lust. Elliot glanced down, a full smile on his lips before he looked back up. Jens couldn’t hide his erection filling his underwear. It was displayed for all to see, or at least Elliot. He was hard as a rock, and he knew a little bit of moisture had darkened his underwear near his slit.
“You could stay,” Elliot said.
Jens held his breath, unsure what to think of the offer. In his misspent youth, he didn’t mind having sex with strangers, but he’d matured and wanted something more than just random hookups. There was no future with Elliot. He may think the guy sexy, but he knew himself well enough to know that hooking up with this man would leave him with expectations. He couldn’t separate the emotions from the sex act, not any more. Maybe it was his age or experiences, but he’d stopped wanting just sex and wanted a guy he could depend on.
“Hey, no pressure, I just thought it would be more convenient, you know, so you don’t have to get back out in that mess. I don’t expect—well, I’m not saying I want to…” Elliot dropped his hold, and Jens felt the loss immediately. He wanted the touch back, but it was too complicated.
Elliot backed up and turned, showing his perfect ass again. Jens’ mouth hung open as his gaze followed the round globes. Elliot glanced back over his shoulder and paused, but Jens didn’t take his eyes off the man’s ass.