Hollywood script supervisor Pippo Baker has always been unlucky in love, therefore, he enjoys his fantasies. His idea of a dream man is James Bond. So when the opportunity arises to test out Aston Martins in a snow drive in St. Moritz, Switzerland, it doesn't take much for his roommate, Michael, to persuade him to throw caution to the winter winds and go. Pippo is excited about accompany Michael on the luxury two-day extravaganza promoted by the European car company. The only drawback is that Pippo realizes too late that his holiday on ice has labeled him a "spectator only." It's the story of his life.
But then something happens, something magical and quite fitting with his dreams. He meets Scottish race car driver, Kethin Teague, on the flight to Zürich and their mutual attraction is instant. Now Pippo discovers that sometimes real men are better than the dream ones. And he's about to find out just how much better they really are in the snow-kissed mountains on his very first snow drive.
Genres: Gay/Contemporary/The Arts/Action/Adventure
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (21k words)
Read a short excerpt...
...Our tickets turned out to be the cheapest ones Michael could possibly have bought. I tried not to mind, but I did. The carriage itself wasn’t bad. It was quite elegant and the huge windows indicated we’d been seeing some scenery on our way. I hoped. I wondered how nice the more expensive carriages were and was surprised when the steward allowed us to pay for an upgrade to the first class carriage.
Otherwise we would have been traveling third class! I’d begun to think of Michael as being my own personal Fred Mertz. Yeah. Ricky and Lucy had entrusted him to book their European train travel and they’d wound up in a tiny row of seats with Ethel sleeping across them.
We quickly changed carriages. This was a lot more like it. I made a mental note to one day take the trip I’d always planned, on the Orient Express. We had a wonderful compartment and the seats here were roomy and lush and, oh joy, we could eat. Our steward told us restaurant reservations were full, but we could order from our seats. We each wanted coffee, croissants and fruit. The menu featured images of a local TV chef called Studi. Apparently, the food items were his creation. If he had anything at all to do with hot, buttery, flaky croissants we demolished then he’d just won himself two new fans.
We knew the train trip would be broken into two segments. We’d travel to Chur, where we would stop for about an hour, then the last hour and a half to St. Moritz, our steward assured us, was the most picturesque in the whole of Europe.
I didn’t have much with which to compare it, but I had to say I’d never seen anything as stunning as the snowcapped mountains and rolling meadows that we saw. It made me want to burst out singing “The Sound of Music.”
We moved about the carriage, trying to get the best view. We were like a pair of little kids. I was so busy staring at the passing scenery I didn’t notice Kethin until I bumped into him.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “The disappearing man.” He caught me in his arms and hurtled me into a compartment beside us, closing the door on the world. He slammed me against the wall.
“Where did you get to last night?” He was staring at my lips and I kept hoping he’d kiss me.
“You fell asleep.”
“I was tired and you took too long in the bathroom.”
“True. I thought about staying.”
“You should have woken me.”
“How hard?” He was grinning now, dipping in, giving me sweet little kisses. He made me think of hummingbirds.
“Not very hard. You seemed so peaceful.” I grabbed his head and held him to me. “I’ll try and do better now.” I saw the surprised look in his eyes as I planted a big ol’ kiss on him. He recovered quickly, moving his hands up my sweater. Boy, we were moving fast.
He broke off our embrace. “Do I have you to thank for that supersonic shower this morning?” he asked against my lips.
I burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to fix it.”
“You’re not sorry.” He fumbled with the top button on my pants. “I could have drowned. And then you’d have nobody to drive with tomorrow.” He kissed me again.
“I’m a spectator only.” There, I’d finally said it.
He frowned, then concentrated on undressing me. He seemed frustrated by the time he reached the zipper and began lowering my nice, sexy black cords.
“I’ll make sure you do more than watch,” he said, yanking down my pants. I felt his breath as he got to his knees. I could see Switzerland flying by in a blur...