About Cross the Mountain

by PD Singer
27 pages / 5800 words
Ebook zipped file contains - html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub

Cross-country skiing is fun, and it's good for you, everyone assures Allan. He's uncomfortably aware that he's a soft-in-the-middle chef getting advice from the skiing elite of the Wapiti Creek Resort, but his ski patrol lover, Mark, is sure that Allan can handle the equipment and the terrain.

Allan and Mark have a great time on the trails, but it's pleasure for which Allan pays dearly. How will Mark convince him to go again?

Sample

"Did you ever work up a sweat skiing downhill?" Mark put his water bottle away.

"No." Allan hated sweating. It was going to happen in the kitchen, where the heat of the stoves would make the air unpleasantly warm. He'd chosen skiing because it was out in the cold, and sweat didn't go with cold. Did it?

"Downhill's fun, but for regular exercise, it leaves a lot of you unworked." Mark stole a quick kiss, which Allan wanted to extend. The poles strapped to his hands hindered him from catching Mark, who had veered right and was now leading the way down a small slope. Allan would take plenty of time to kiss that man once he'd caught him. Poling and pushing, he hurried to catch up.

The slope made him a little anxious, but he'd skied steeper doing downhill. Going faster was almost easier -- the skis were now doing more work than he was. Mark didn't have nearly as much lead as he'd started with, though the grins he threw over his shoulder suggested he knew exactly how hard Allan was willing to pursue him. He led a merry chase through the next open area and pulled to a stop.

"Fun?" he wanted to know, and yes, Allan had to agree it was fun, but still insisted on collecting a reward that needed soft strokes of tongue on tongue.

"How far have we come?" Allan broke off the kisses to lean against Mark, who laid an arm over his shoulder. He'd caught enough breath not to pant into Mark's mouth, but he was feeling the exertion. He'd lean and see if some of the tiredness would drain out of his arms and legs.

"About two thirds of what I figured we'd do today, not sure of the mileage." Mark rested his cheek against Allan's head. "There's a slightly faster route back; how tired are you?"

"Mileage -- I hadn't thought in terms of miles." Trying to assess his fatigue made Allan realize that he'd probably covered several miles by now. He was used to thinking in terms of runs completed. Debating honesty versus machismo, he asked, "What's different about the terrain?"

"One hill; nothing you can't handle."