Chapter Eight
DEVINwoke to the sounds of laughter and happy chatting outside the open window, and he opened his eyes, confused at finding himself in a strange room. He was lying on his side, looking at a window where daylight streamed in through gauzy curtains. Then the events of the night before came back to him in a rush, and he grinned and rolled over with the intent of spooning against Paul and maybe coaxing him into another round of lovemaking before they had to return to the ship.
The other side of the bed was empty.
Alarmed, Devin sat up, his heart pounding in dread before he noticed the note on Paul’s pillow. He grabbed it, and the words caused him to breathe in a sigh of relief.
Gone to hotel gift shop, BRB.
The words chased away Devin’s horrified visions of Paul having been overcome with regret and leaving so he didn’t have to face any awkwardness. Given how special and wonderful the previous night had been, it would have been enough to break Devin’s heart.
Devin got up and went into the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, the evidence of what he and Paul had done several times during the night revealed in the faint scratches on Devin’s shoulders and the shadow of a bite mark on the side of his neck. The sight made Devin grin; despite Paul’s fears about his desirability, once he’d decided to give in, he’d gone all in, holding nothing back. He’d met Devin passion for passion, and it had been more intense than anything Devin had ever experienced.
There were wet towels on the floor, discarded after the shower they’d taken together during the course of the night. Inspired by Devin’s talk of naughty fantasies, Paul had put on his prosthetic so he could push Devin up against the wall of the shower and fuck him senseless under the spray of water. They’d staggered back to the bed together, falling in a tangle of limbs, napping for a while only to wake up and make love again, this time more slowly, Paul exploring Devin’s body as Devin had explored his.
Innately tidy—at least when he wasn’t overcome by postcoital bliss—Devin picked up the towels and hung them over the shower curtain rod. Then, still naked, he returned to the bedroom. He was debating whether to dress or to arrange himself in an enticing display on the bed when he heard the key in the door, and he turned toward it, unable to help the wide smile that curved his lips.
Paul’s eyebrows climbed when he entered the room and saw Devin standing there. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked as he approached Devin, carrying a large paper shopping bag in each hand. When he reached Devin, he leaned in for a brief kiss.
“No, not at all,” Devin replied. He returned the kiss, then wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist and rubbed his cheek against Paul’s, enjoying the rasp of stubble. Devin didn’t have much in the way of facial hair himself, but he liked how Paul’s felt. “Did you get hungry? You should have woken me up.”
“No, I wanted to get a change of clothes.” Paul nuzzled along Devin’s cheek and down his neck. “Do we have time to visit the beach before we have to be back on board the ship? I didn’t get to see much of it last night, since someone was determined to lure me away from the party so he could have his way with me.”
“I regret nothing,” Devin said, tipping his head to the side to give Paul better access. “We have time. The ship doesn’t sail until five this evening, though I need to be back aboard by three.”
“Perfect.” Paul nipped Devin’s earlobe and then drew back. “I got you something,” he said as he placed the bags on the bed. He rummaged through one of the bags and pulled out a package of plain white boxers, which he offered to Devin. “Cotton, not silk, but I thought we might want a change.Ido, anyway.”
Devin chuckled and accepted the package. “Have I told you that you’re brilliant? Thanks, these are great. What else did you get? I’d even wear that shirt we saw that saidJamaican Me Hornyif you got it.”
“A couple of razors and shaving cream and a couple of shirts and pairs of shorts that we can mix and match,” Paul said as he emptied out the bags. “You can have first pick.”
He spread out two pairs of board shorts; one was black with narrow gray horizontal stripes, and the other was navy blue with a pattern of white tropical flowers. Then he unfolded two white tank tops and tossed one to Devin.
“White goes with both,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind being matchy-matchy.”
Devin caught the shirt, then stood next to Paul, looking down at the shorts. He remembered Paul saying he hadn’t brought shorts or even a bathing suit with him on the cruise. Devin was saddened by how self-conscious Paul was about his prosthetic, even the previous night when he’d obviously been reluctant for Devin to see it. For Paul to have gone from reluctance to not caring who saw it made Devin want to melt. He wrapped his arm around Paul’s shoulders, his throat tight with emotion.
With love.
I’m in love with him, Devin thought, dazed at the thought. He was also a little frightened by it, because it took their situation to a different level. Devin had thought himself in love with his ex back in Houston, but what he felt for Paul made what he’d felt about Brad pale in comparison. It also made the knowledge that Paul would be leaving the ship in just over a week heartbreaking.
He knew Paul was waiting for an answer, so he pushed his own feelings aside for the moment, turning his head to press his lips to Paul’s cheek. “I don’t mind being matchy-matchy at all,” he murmured. “Thank you. For the clothes, and for being you.”
“I should be thanking you.” Paul gently ran his forefinger along Devin’s cheek. “There’s no telling when I would have found the courage to do this if I hadn’t met you,” he said, gesturing to the shorts.
“I’m glad I could help you find your courage,” Devin replied, his voice husky as he leaned into Paul’s touch. “It was there inside you all along, you know. That had nothing to do with me.”
“You helped bring it out.” Paul’s eyes were soft and warm as he met Devin’s gaze. “I’m giving you full credit for that, and I won’t be talked out of it, so pick the shorts you want so we can hit the beach.”
Devin drew back, touched and pleased that Paul wanted to give him the credit. “Well, since I’m so awesome, I’ll take the flowered ones,” he said, snatching them off the bed. “Since the beach is what you want, the beach is what you’ll have, though don’t be surprised if I drag you behind a dune to make out.”
“I’ll find a way to cope,” Paul said dryly as he pulled another package of white boxers out of the bag. He showed no trace of the hesitation and doubt he’d exhibited the night before as he undressed and changed into the new clothes.
Devin followed suit, though the process took longer than necessary because he felt the need to grope Paul as he changed, under the guise of “checking the fit” and performing “quality control.” Then they packed their dirty clothing in the bags and left the room, stopping by the front desk to turn in the key.
As Devin paid for the room, Cass came from around the desk to hug him. “I’m glad to see you so happy,” she said.
Surprised, Devin hugged her back. “I’m almost always happy, you know.”
