Snow Trap

Afterward, the two stretched against each other in the darkness of the room, Boyd wrapped in Vic's arms, Boyd asked him, "How did you get up here? In the snow? I can't see that anyone . . ."

"That's right, we're trapped in the snow up here. Well, you are. I'm just where I want to be. And I'm going to fuck you silly, make you completely mine before the snowplows come through."

"But how did you . . .?"

"I dropped in from heaven," Vic said, and then he laughed. "I'm your saving angel."

He was lifting Boyd up on his knees.

"Please, Vic. Enough. Haven't we . . . enough . . .?"

"Lift your ass. Present."

Boyd cried out in surprise, frustration, and pain . . . changing to uncontrollable passion . . . as Vic thrust inside him and started to stroke hard and deep.

Vic was lying on his back, limbs akimbo, and snoring, when Boyd carefully pulled away from him and rose from the bed. As much as he had wanted Vic to fuck him, it still wasn't fair to his father. It was just too complicating of all of the relationships involved. He shouldn't be letting Vic do this.

How did Vic get here? Boyd had to know. Maybe it was a way for him to get out from under this—if he had the strength to pull away from the amazing fucking he was getting.

He slipped on flip-flops and went out into the corridor. He went into every room down the hall, checking out the view from the windows. Snow and more snow. It had started snowing again. He truly was trapped up here in the snow. Nothing but a sea of white from the windows and French doors in the living area. He went out to the garage. Nothing but his own motorcycle in the double garage. This was the last place for him to look. But then he remembered that the house had a third garage—the third one being through a door at the other end of the garage. He went over and opened the door.

The snowmobile was standing in the center of the garage. Boyd walked over and checked it out. Plenty of gasoline in the tank. Ready to go.

"Take it if you want."

Boyd's head snapped up, and he turned his head toward the door into the other garage. Vic was standing there, naked, his cock erect again, his body gloriously muscular, perfect, powerful.

"It's your choice. You can take the snowmobile, go down the mountain, and continue with your life as it is. Or you can stay here and let me fuck your lights out until the snow clears. I can handle both you and your father. I'll give him what he wants and keep him happy. And if you stay here I'll give you what I know you want. Which is it to be?"

"You're just with my father to get at me," Boyd whispered.

"That's not being very fair to your father, Boyd. He's hot enough to want too. It runs in your family. Sure I've wanted to fuck you since I arrived at Union Hunt and found you on the tennis team. But I wanted a lot of guys I saw, and when I saw your father, I wanted him too."

Vic could have gone on, saying how he liked the two-for-one idea of getting both father and son and that it didn't hurt a bit that Karl's previous lover had left him a fortune and both a beach house and a mountain house—and that snowmobile there, as a matter of fact. He decided to keep it to what Boyd was struggling over—what he, Boyd, really wanted was what it came down to.

"You wanted me from that time too. Tell me you didn't. You've pulled away from me a couple of times, but not before you made your 'want' clear to me. You gonna pull away from me again? Did you come up here to escape me or to escape what you know you want? Being up here together could be a blessing. We can use these days trapped by the snow to burn off the heat of our passion for each other so that we can control it better when we get back to Richmond. Or we can both smolder down there and make clear to your father that something is wrong. If you're thinking of your father, think about that."

Boyd lowered his head, not answering. Not saying he was staying—but not saying he was going either.

Vic walked over and lifted him up in his arms and slowly walked into the house. "I'll stop and let you down any time you want before we get to the bedroom. When we get there, though, it will be too late. You will have already made your choice."

Boyd lay on his back at the foot of Karl's bed, his fists gripping the bottom edge of the mattress on each side, his legs snaking up to where he hooked his heels on Vic's shoulders, using the leverage of his fists to counterpunch the thrusting of Vic's cock, as he cried out, groaned, and grunted at the pounding, pounding, pounding of his lover's cock.

He turned his head toward a window and noted that it was snowing out there in earnest.

When he knew that Vic was asleep from the sound of his regular breathing and irregular light snoring, Boyd carefully rolled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He padded out to the kitchen and then into the garage, where he checked the snowmobile out. The keys were still in the ignition.

This just wasn't right, this thing with Vic. He was a great lover, and took Boyd forcefully, just as he liked, but Boyd had been with enough men now that he knew he wasn't the only one who Boyd could melt to. He just came with too many complications.

Boyd pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the bars. They were coming and going, but he had a sudden urge to talk with his father—to connect with Karl and confirm for himself that he wasn't going to come between his father and Vic. Or maybe he'd tell his father that Vic was fucking him so that Karl could see the truth of Vic and cut it off, one way or the other. Boyd didn't know what he'd say to his father. He'd play it by ear if he could get through to him.

"Hi, Dad, it's me."

"Great to hear you, son." Karl sounded really happy. "How's it going at UVa?"

"Really good, Dad . . . keepin' the grades up and I've got twice as many wins as losses in the indoor tennis season."

"That's great to hear. Say, if you can get away from school, I'd like you to come to Richmond. There's someone—"

"Dad there's something I want to tell you about Vic."

"Vic? Vic's not here. We've split. He took off, took all of his things and left. That's part of . . . could you just come back to Richmond? Maybe just for tomorrow night?"

"Sure Dad. I have a few things to do here in the morning, and then I'll be there. Bye now. Somebody's trying to get my attention."

It would have been too complicated to tell Karl he was in Wintergreen, not Charlottesville. And his father sounded so happy—like it was good that he and Vic had split—that Boyd didn't want to tell him about Vic coming after him over the phone.

He called his roommate from Nellysford, at the bottom of the mountain Wintergreen was perched on, and then he bundled up and took off. Vic slept on. Boyd left the snowmobile at a gas station at the bottom of the mountain, and his roommate found someone willing to take the drive from UVa to pick him up. In Charlottesville, he caught a few hours of sleep and then drove his own car to Richmond. He wasn't worried about Vic finding him. With only the motorcycle up at the snowbound house in Wintergreen, Vic wasn't going anywhere for a while.

Karl met Boyd at the door of the Richmond house, all smiles and in a terrycloth robe. Boyd's jaw dropped and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when Karl moved away from in front of the hulking man behind him, dressed only in sleeping shorts.

"I want you to meet Chuck," Karl said. "You may have seen him at our gym. He's a personal trainer there. That's what I wanted to tell you. Vic moved out because Chuck is moving in. You all can go in the living room and get acquainted. I have something on the stove that needs attention."

There was an awkward moment when Chuck and Boyd were alone in the foyer, but Chuck allowed for only a moment before he had moved forward and embraced Boyd.

"Living room now, but bedroom later," he growled. "You and me, buddy. Ain't we gonna have some fun?"