Return to Zero (Shatterproof Bond #3) by Isobel Starling

Author:Isobel Starling
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, true love, gay romance, mm romance, gay and sex, thriller and adventure
Publisher: Isobel Starling

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The door clicked shut. Declan turned swiftly and was just about to speak when his eyes met Sam’s, and he saw the slight shake of his head. Sam strode to the bed, unzipped and stepped out of his jeans to reveal a black jock strap against stark pale skin. He pivoted on light feet, bent over, and rummaged in his small case, and then pulled out a pair of navy Lycra track pants and black trainers.

Declan’s greedy stare caressed the curves of Sam’s ass. He bit the inside of his lip, knowing full well Sam was yanking his cock on purpose. Sam always did flirtatious things like this, and like a love-struck fool, Declan’s temperature soared every time. He dragged his gaze away and pulled his own suitcase onto his single bed. He was impressed by just how much Sam had managed to pack inside their cases. The packing was precise and regimented, just the way he liked it. He also found track pants, vest, and trainers, and took them with him into the bathroom. When he emerged Sam was donning his fleece.

Outside the cabin, Declan mirrored Sam’s every move as they worked through a warm-up routine, and then, after several minutes, they left in a slow jog, heading for the trail that led through the forest of Scots pine trees, and down the hill to a tributary of the River Tummel.

The dusky sky was a wash of pastel blues, orange and fiery reds, merging with the distant golden orb of the setting sun. The stretch of the River they ran beside was wild and fast-flowing, with a long section of rocky rapids. Multicoloured guide ropes had been affixed across the river, from bank to bank for use during water sports activities. Ahead, Declan noted that a canoe slalom course had been set out over the rapids with gates suspended from wires. For a supposedly fully-booked activity centre, there was no one else around. He knew centres like this had a lot of school parties and day customers, who would not be staying on-site, but still, it was just past five p.m. and Declan found the lack of people, even staff, curious.

A boat house loomed on the left side of the river bank. Several wooden rowing boats and a dingy sat abandoned outside. They continued on wordlessly, jogging towards a second outbuilding. The dark green, barn-like structure loomed large, and its wide open doors gaped. Several more dinghies and a rack of kayaks sat outdoors. Sam and Declan slowed as they passed, and glimpsed in to see that it was an equipment store, full of mountaineering, survival, and water-sports gear. They both sniffed, noticing there was a strange smell in the building — decay, dampness and something else. Sam and Declan shared fleeting, quizzical glances. Again, there was not a soul in sight.

They ran on along the river path for another half-mile before Sam stopped and bent over, holding his knees and pulling a few laboured breaths into his lungs, before he slumped to the grassy bank.

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