Ten Inches

Ten Inches

By

AJ Hardcourt

Ten Inches

Smashwords
Edition.

COPYRIGHT © 2011 AJ
Hardcourt

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Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.

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Romance except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
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Contact Information:
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Demanding Romance

Publishing
History

First Demanding Romance
Edition, January 2011

Cover art by A. Jay
Hardcourt

Published in the United
States of America

Ten Inches

“
Ten inches.”

Nick Cooper crashed back to
his pillow, cradling his cell phone against his ear. Ian Parker,
his best friend, sounded too damn happy for a Tuesday morning.
“Huh?”

“
I said ‘ten
inches.’”

“
I heard you, but I’m too
tired to interpret your cryptic message.” Not that they’d spent
much time talking about the size of Ian’s cock. Though Nick had
thought about it plenty of times, imagined every glorious inch. All
fantasies because he and Ian were just friends.

Nick stretched. “So are you
bragging?” He glanced at the glowing red numbers of his alarm
clock. 7:03. Fuck, he could sleep another fifty-seven
minutes.

“
No, I’m promising a good
time.”

And the innuendos kept
coming…making Nick’s morning wood like rock. He couldn’t help
slipping his hands beneath the warm blankets and closing his fist
around the hotter flesh pulsing at his groin. Cream beaded on the
tip of his dick. He slicked his thumb through the slippery
secretions and circled the flared rim. God, he was a sick fuck for
getting off on the sound of Ian’s deep voice, the thought of Ian’s
cock, and the husky words of promise. Although what they were
promising was still a mystery.

Nick had to be
misinterpreting the words. Ian wouldn’t be propositioning him for
sex. He wasn’t a curvy blonde with big tits and a pussy. And while
he knew he had the goods in the ass department, and loved a nice
hard prick drilling his hole, he didn’t think—no, he knew Ian
wasn’t interested. Good thing Nick’s orientation wasn’t a problem
for Ian. Ian was secure in his sexuality—as secure as Nick was in
being gay. “You’ll have to be more clear in what you’re
offering.”

“
What would you want me to
offer?”

“
Ian—”

Ian chuckled and a shiver of
awareness slipped over Nick. “I’m referring to the ten inches of
fresh powder on the mountain. Grab your gear; time to rip some
flake. Cut the pow pow.” Ian’s voice lowered and he chuckled.
“Exactly what ten inches did you think I was talking
about?”

“
You know me.”

“
Yeah, you’re a horny
bastard. Do you want a piece of my ass?” His disarming laugh took
any sting or misinterpretation from his words. And they weren’t
exactly accurate. He wanted Ian to want a piece of his
ass.

Nick was a bottom, liked the
burn of a hard cock spearing into his ass. Ian’s cock…fuck, he
couldn’t think about Ian’s cock without his ass clenching and his
nuts warming. “If we’re talking about ten inches of dick, I’m going
to need a shot of something stiff.” Like Ian’s cock.

“
God, that’s what I love
about you.” Ian’s rich laughter chased away the last of
sleep.

Nick sat up and scrubbed a
hand though his hair. “So what is it you want?”

“
I want you to play in the
snow with me,” Ian said with a teasing tone.

“
One day you’re going to get
exactly what you’re asking for.”

“
Good.”

Nick swallowed hard. If he
didn’t know Ian better, he’d worry—or rather relish in the
innuendo, hoping one day he would get his hands on the more than
six feet of rippling male muscle with piecing blue eyes and black
hair. Ian had model-good looks and collected women like moths to
flames. Actually he collected the flames, too. Gay men wanted to be
with Ian, and straight men wished they were Ian. And besides looks
and personality, the man was a god on the slopes. Reckless,
adventurous and a total adrenaline junkie thrill seeker.

Nick was way too anal, in an
OCD sort-of-way, to forget about responsibilities and play hooky.
“I have to work.” But he would love to spend the day with Ian.
Fresh air and physical activity. He could work off the determined
erection tenting his sheets.

“
Ten inches of powder. Blue
skies—”

“
Gray skies. There’s another
storm moving in.”

“
Soft powder,” Ian
countered. “And less crowds and more open space.”

Nick was caving. The draw of
Ian and ten inches almost made him forget he had a full inbox at
the office and a mountain of work bigger then the peaks outside his
apartment window. “I have to work.”

“
Man, but you sound
terrible. You’re coming down with a serious case of
gotta-tricky-itis. Call in because you’ll infect the rest of the
office.”

“
Then the rest of the office
will be up on the mountain.”

“
Yeah, so you’ll be doing
your boss a favor.”

Nick could work from home
tonight. “I don’t know.”

“
The boarding is going to be
freaking pristine, brother. So get your shred sled and let’s go
snowing.”

Nick groaned. “You’re a bad
influence.” He could hear Ian’s smile through the phone. He glanced
at the clock. “I’ll be ready in an hour. Half day, Ian. I have to
get some work done tonight.”

They were just words. If the
snow was perfect, Ian would have to be dragged kicking and
screaming off the mountain. And apparently Nick was unable to say
no to the man.

* * * * *

Several areas made up the
massive resort. A gondola ran from the lobby of the main lodge to a
grouping of several cottages and ski runs. There were areas
designed for skiers only, a halfpipe for boarders, and jumps for
aerials.

Nick had to admit, Ian’s
idea to hit the slopes was nothing short of brilliant. Quick lift
rides up and fresh powder all the way down. Flurries had fallen off
and on throughout the chilly morning, but as they boarded into the
afternoon, the weather seemed to be shifting for the
worse.

“
What do you think?” Ian
asked, snapping his goggles into place as they prepared to take
another run down the slope. “I don’t like how dark it’s
gotten.”

“
Me either.” The sky and the
snow merged into one large gray horizon. Nick squinted into the
distance, then turned to Ian. “I think we should carve it up one
last time.”

Ian smiled, the cold air
making his full lips red and just a bit wind burned. His breath
frosted in the air. “Care to make a wager for the best shred?
Lunch?”

“
Sure.”

“
See you at the bottom.” Ian
launched into his run and Nick followed. Racing down the hill Nick
carved hard and low, slicing the snow, but he couldn’t compete with
Ian’s skills. Ian’s plaid parka and baggie red and black vent pants
were a blaze of banging tricks.

Nick would have no problem
buying lunch. Better than crashing and doing an asspass the rest of
the way down the mountain. Unlike Ian, Nick had an office job. Ian
worked for the resort. Private ski and boarding lessons and part
time ski patrol. He played where he worked, and Nick reaped some of
the perks. Their fun today was only going to cost him
lunch.

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later, Nick
sank his teeth into a big juicy cheeseburger.

“
Have you ever thought about
boarding lessons?” Ian asked, then shoved another hot fry into his
mouth.

Nick finished chewing,
wondering just how he was supposed to respond to that statement. He
might not have Ian’s skills, but he didn’t think he needed to be
schooled.

“
Maybe just once or twice a
week. Just beginner stuff.”

Nick leaned back in his
chair. “Fuck you, too.”

Ian’s head snapped up.
“What?”

“
Sorry if I cramp your
style. I have a real job and don’t spend my days up here on the
mountain catching air and chasing chicks.”

Ian chucked a fry across the
table, smacking Nick in the head. “To teach, dumbass.” He laughed
and dipped another fry into ketchup and popped it into his mouth.
“Instruct with me, get a pass, we can board every day
together.”

Nick stared as Ian’s tongue
slid from between his lips and tasted the salt from his thumb. Ian
slowed the movement, curling his tongue over his blunt nail then
lowering his hand. “You okay?”

“
Um, yeah.” No, his own
tongue filled his mouth and his throat was tight. He couldn’t watch
Ian lick his thumb and not imagine those lips wrapped around his
cock. The room closed in on him, and he was suddenly too hot in his
clothes. He needed space between them. “We should bail.” He glanced
past the open pit fire burning in the center of the large room and
stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows. “The snow is really coming
down.”

A woman in pink ski pants
and a sweater clinging to her curves rushed over to the table.
Flakes of snow melted on her wind-reddened cheeks. “You should get
a room.”

Nick snapped his gaze to the
woman. Panic constricted his chest. What the hell had he done to
warrant the comment? “We’re just having lunch.”

She glanced at Nick, and Ian
laughed. “I don’t think she meant us,” Ian said to Nick.

Fuck. Nick hadn’t meant to
speak out. “Oh god.” He bowed his head. She probably wanted Ian to
get a room—to share with her. “I think I’ll excuse myself before I
say anything else.”

“
You look guilty, Nicky. So
don’t think I don’t know exactly where your thoughts were.” Ian
chuckled. “I knew you wanted me.” He turned to the girl. “Hey,
Angie, what’s going on?”

Mortification burned Nick’s
face as heat crawled up his neck. Pressure built behind his eyes.
About now it’d be nice if the floor opened and swallowed him. Ian’s
flippant words punched him in the gut.

“
The canyon was just shut
down. There’s a wreck, and by the time it’s cleared, the snow is
going to be piling up. It’ll be hours. And if the weatherman is
right, not that he usually is, but you never know, and he said six
to eight by morning.”

Ian wagged his brows. “Six
to eight, Nick. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

Nick rolled his eyes. He’d
never live down the morning phone call. “Six to eight inches would
be perfect,” he countered. “But the weather man was calling for six
to eight feet.”