Ten Inches by AJ Hardcourt

 
     
    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