This almost feels too good to be real. The warm water sluicing over my skin, the aroma of the whiskey-scented soap filling the air, Flynn’s big, strong hands moving over my body, washing away the traces of sand and the salty smell of the ocean.
He presses a kiss against the crook of my neck, his hard cock bumping the curve of my ass, his warm breath ghosting over my skin. My heart rate skyrockets, half from arousal and half with the deep-rooted fear that this is too intense and not intense enough all at once.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, putting his hands on my shoulders and spinning me around to face him, the stream of the water cascading down my backside and rinsing away the suds.
I swallow hard, trying to get my thoughts in order. What’s wrong? Absolutely nothing. But weirdly, that’s exactly the problem. He’s too perfect, too deliciously growly and protective, too easy to fall right back in love with after all these years. Hell, who am I kidding? I never fell out of love with thisman, even when I thought he was straight and I would never see him again.
“Let’s hit that bar tonight,” I blurt the suggestion without giving it any thought. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it really does sound like the perfect idea. I can’t sit in this hotel eating room service and making love with Flynn all night long. As much as I want to, and as perfect as it sounds, I justcan’t.
He frowns, his hands stilling on my chest, soapy suds trickling down my belly and into my pubic hair. “Yeah, we can go to the bar if you want,” Flynn agrees after a few seconds, finishing with his task of getting me clean and then hastily soaping himself.
When he’s finished, he reaches around me to shut the water off and then hands us both towels. We dry off in relative silence, Flynn shooting me furtive glances every few seconds. I know those looks. I know every one of his facial expressions and minute ticks. At least, I used to. Fuck knows now if they mean the same thing. But when we were fifteen, those looks meant he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t work out what to say.
Maybe he wants to make sure I understand that this isn’t as serious as it feels. The shower was a mistake, it was too intimate. But it’s okay. I’m not going to let our vacation fling be derailed. All we need is to break the tension.
I give him an easy smile, playfully tossing my towel at him when I’m finished drying off. He catches it deftly in one hand, quickly spinning it into a rattail and snapping it at my bare ass.
“Dude, you know I always fucking hated that,” I complain, dancing away while he laughs unrepentantly.
He drops the towel and reaches out to grab my hand, yanking me in to collide with his large, still-damp body. Fuck, it feelswaytoo good to be pressed against all of his slick, hot skin, all his body hair tempting me to rub myself against him like a cat. He cups my chin and makes me look at him.
“Are yousureyou don’t want to stay in tonight? Staynakedtonight.” His voice is low and tempting, rumbling through me and calling to all the dirty desires inside. Of fucking course I want to stay in and be naked all night with him.
My heart beats harder, doing its level best to pound out of my chest.
I want to do a hell of a lot more than stay in the hotel with him tonight. I want to kiss him until I forget what anyone else’s lips ever tasted like. I want to sit on the balcony naked, feeding each other bites of food and talking about the past and the future. I want to beg him to let me take him on a date once we’re back in New York.
“We’re on vacation. We should go out andhave fun,” I force myself to say.
Flynn presses a rough kiss to my lips and then releases me. “Okay, let’s go to the bar. Why don’t you go get dressed, and we can meet in the lobby in half an hour.”
“Perfect,” I agree.
We step out of the bathroom, and I realize that I have a small problem, I don’t have any clothes with me besides my wet swimsuit. Fuck it, we’re on Handjob Island.I literally saw people fucking out by the pool yesterday. It’s not exactly going to be front-page news if I take the elevator up to the next floor while only wearing a towel.
It takes me less than half an hour to get dressed, but styling my hairdoestake about that long. Totally worth it because I’m looking hot as fuck when I’m finished.
Flynn seems to think so too, raking his eyes over me greedily when I meet him in the hotel lobby.
We take the same route out the back and past the pool, again stopping to admire some of the more eye-catching encounters going on all around us.
“I really hope they use a hell of a lot of disinfectant in that pool,” I say, shaking my head while my cock swells at the sight of a man pinning another up against the side of the pool and fucking him mercilessly, water sloshing around them while a few others sit close by, sipping drinks and enjoyingthe show just as shamelessly.
Flynn chuckles, reaching for my hand like it’s second nature. My heart flutters even while my brain reminds me that he was always like this. Even when we were kids, all the way through the last time I saw him, he was touchy and affectionate, always holding my hand or putting an arm around me. It was so easy to convince myself he felt the same way I did back then because it was like he couldn’t get enough of me. I don’t want to make that same mistake again. Just because he turned out to be gay doesn’t mean he ultimately wants anything more than friendship.
The night quiets a bit as we leave the loud sounds of the pool behind us.
“Do you prefer coffee or tea?” I ask, continuing my quest to fill in a decade and a half of knowledge about him.
“Neither.”
“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who can function without caffeine? And if you say something about a runner’s high or any shit like that, I swear I’ll scream.”
Flynn laughs. “Energy drinks, baby.”
“That shit will kill you,” I warn him, shaking my head.
He shrugs. “We all have to go sometime.”
