Soft white lights draped from the patio, casting a warm glow over the backyard. On the quilt I set out a tray with a wine bottle and two glasses, their quiet clink punctuating the calm of the evening.
Lowering myself onto the quilt, I leaned against the oak, its bark rough against my back. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the yard’s peacefulness easing my jangled nerves.
A few moments later, Ken came into view, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “Hey,” he murmured, taking in the scene with a sweep of his eyes. “Wow, this is nice.”
“Thanks. I thought it’d be a good place for us to talk.” Seeing Ken in the soft glow of the lights, my nerves spiked. Did he feel this pull between us, the same all-consuming need?
Ken settled onto the quilt beside me, our knees brushing. I poured two glasses of wine, handing one to him. “Hope you like merlot.”
“Yeah, I like reds,” he said, taking a sip. We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging between us. Ken’s fingers fiddled with his shirt hem, a clear sign of his own jitters. Finally, he grinned sheepishly. “Didn’t take you for a wine guy.”
I laughed. “Oh, I love wine. Beer always makes me gassy,” I added, hoping to break the tension. “My ex had worked in a fancy restaurant in college and knew all about fine wine. He taught me a lot about it. But yeah, not a lot of guys at the autoshop appreciate a good merlot.” Memories of Jacob brought out a pang of hurt and ache. It was a past I had locked away, a chapter closed but never discarded. I wondered if Ken had his own share of heartbreaks and missed opportunities.
Ken’s eyes swept across the yard, a smile spreading across his face. “I love what you’ve done back here. It’s amazing.”
“Thanks.” Warmth crept into my cheeks under his praise, following his gaze. “It brings me joy.”
“A man of many talents.” Ken continued to survey the garden, his eyes lingering on the blooming flowers as he sipped his wine. The twinkling patio lights cast a soft glow on his features, and as he took a breath, he turned toward me. “Marc,” he began, his voice hesitant, “I haven’t stopped thinking about what happened today.”
Our eyes locked. My heart raced as I reached out, placing my hand on his knee. “I know we have to be careful because of your job, but I can’t ignore how I feel. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Ken sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I feel the same way, and I’m scared. People might talk, and with me being Mia’s teacher, it’s complicated.”
I nodded, understanding his fears. “Your job’s important, and I never want to put that at risk. But ignoring this isn’t working out for either of us.” I reached out and touched a stray tendril of hair on his forehead. “You’re important to me, Ken, and I don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
Ken’s eyes softened. “And I want to be with you, too. But—” He shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t want to make things hard for Mia, either. She’s been through so much.”
“I want what’s best for her, too.” I glanced over at the window to her bedroom, imagining her sleeping, dreaming the best dreams. “She’s my world, and I would never do anything to hurt her. But maybe we don’t have to choose between doing what’sbest for her and what we feel for each other. We can find a way to make both work.”
Ken nodded, his eyes searching mine as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re right. I don’t want this worry hanging over us, hiding like we’re doing something shameful. I want to be with you.” He bit his lower lip, looking up at me with those bright eyes. “I want to see where this takes us.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Me too.”
We leaned in and our lips met again. Time seemed to stretch as we explored each other with unhurried, deliberate intimacy, finally able to just focus on each other. Ken’s lips were soft yet firm, the sweetest kisses that made my head spin.
My hands found their way to Ken’s face, fingertips brushing against his freckled cheeks. The faint stubble along his jaw, rough against my skin, contrasted against the softness of his lips. Ken’s hands mirrored mine, cupping my face, as if afraid I might disappear. His thumb traced along my lower lip, sending a shiver down my spine.
Ken shifted, his movements careful as he straddled me, facing me, his knees settling on either side of my thighs. I groaned at the weight of him, warm and solid, pressed against me, all the blood in my body flowing to my groin. Heat radiated from his body, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat pressed against my chest.
His hands rested on my shoulders for a moment, grounding us both. Then, as he leaned in to capture my lips once more, Ken’s fingers slid into my hair. The sensation made me gasp into his mouth as our bodies pressed close together, the intimacy of the moment deepening with each passing second.
We kissed, our tongues dancing in a slow, sensual rhythm. Ken’s hands moved to my shoulders, sliding down the length of my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Hisfingertips traced patterns across my back, each touch igniting little sparks of electricity beneath my skin.
My lips trailed from his mouth to his neck, pressing soft kisses along the curve of his throat. I heard his breath hitch, felt him tremble under my touch.He feels this too. Ken’s hands held me close as I explored the sensitive skin of his neck with tender nips and languid licks, memorizing his sighs and shivers, learning what he liked best.
Ken’s touch grew bolder, his fingers sliding under my shirt and caressing the bare skin of my back. My skin burned with each contact, and I mirrored his actions, my hands slipping under his shirt to trace the fine muscles of his abdomen and chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my fingertips.
We paused for breath, resting our foreheads together, our eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of emotion. In that moment, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving the two of us under the canopy of the trees and stars, lost in each other.
How was I going to let go of him tonight?
Ken’s fingers wandered lower on my body, tracing patterns that left trails of heat in their wake. His touch was tentative at first, seeking permission, and I gasped in surprise as he grew bolder, pressing his hand against the bulge in my jeans. “This okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky, brushing his lips against mine.
Christ. “Yeah,” I murmured, trying to catch my breath. “It’s more than okay.”
I swallowed hard as his fingers unfastened my pants, the sound of the zipper punctuating the quiet of the night. His hand slipped inside, and the warmth of his touch on my hardening cock had me gasping for air.
Ken’s strokes were gentle, almost reverent, and I bit my lip as I struggled to suppress a moan. His gaze filled with a tendernessand desire that left me breathless. “Is this okay?” he asked again, his thumb circling my leaking cock head.
