He kisses me again, his thumb pressing into the tendon on the underside of my big toe, and I feel the sensation all the way up my legs and into my groin. I lie back, letting my head thump on the table as he repeats the exercise with my other foot.
“Gonna remember that for later,” he says. I want to tell him now is fine too, but he’s rising, pulling me to my feet, then lifting my shirt over my head. David growls appreciatively, and I can’t help my laughter.
“You don’t have to be nice about it,” I say.
“What do you mean?” He runs his hands over my chest.
“Come on. Look at you. Then look at me.” The differences are obvious. David’s body is perfect. Not a stray hair or mole anywhere. Not even a half-healed pimple or scars from teenage acne. His chest is cut, his abs defined.
“I see you,” he says. “You’re amazing.” He kisses me, framing my face like he did yesterday, before his hands start moving again, exploring. Teasing. He pinches one of my nipples, and I arch into the sting.
“But I’m not—”
“You’re real,” he says. “Maybe the most real person I’ve met in a long time.”
I’m about to ask him what he means, but I get distracted when he flicks my belt open, then starts working on my fly. He dips his hand inside my underwear, and I yelp. Despite everything, his fingertips are still freezing, and the sensation against the heated skin beneath my belly is almost painful.
I can’t say we’re graceful. Two tall men wedged between benches, a table, and gear. I bang a shin against the steering console. David stubs a toe. There’s more cursing than is probably normal for this kind of thing, but there’s some laughter too, and that’s nice.
Finally, he backs me up until I’m pressed against the cabin door. David lifts my hands over my head and kisses me hard, holding me in place with his body, which has thankfully completely warmed up. His underwear is still damp, but it doesn’t matter much as the space between us heats and he grinds against me, rubbing his dick along mine. I stretch up on my toes, trying to find the right position.
“David.” I groan as he sucks at my neck. My shoulders ache, but when he lets go, I keep my arms overhead, letting him do what he wants. He pulls at my underwear, letting it drop to the floor, then he gets down on his knees.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.” His hand isn’t cold now as he takes my cock in his fist and strokes. I find the doorframe above me and use it like a tiny handhold, my nails digging into the wood as David looks up at me with big eyes, opens his mouth, and lets the head of my erection rest on his tongue. The anticipation is perfect and nearly painful. It would be so easy to shove my hips forward and push my way in, but I wait, and the puff of hot air from his laughter is my only warning before he closes his lips around me and sucks me down.
“Oh my God,” I say. His mouth is warm and wet, his lips perfectly tight. He slides off with a pop and strokes me again, using his spit to keep his grip from becoming uncomfortable before he takes me back between his lips. He lets me run along the smooth inside of his cheek and then slides me deeper toward his throat. “David. Oh God, don’t stop.”
He’s got one hand around the base of my shaft, and he moves the other up my body, fingers trailing over my skin until he finds one nipple and pinches it. The sting makes me hiss, but as he releases it, the pain radiates like heat over my skin, and I let go of my tiny handhold to grab his wrist before he can move on. I drag his hand back to my nipple, silently begging him to do it again. I whine when he does. The sting, coupled with the warm pressure of his mouth around my dick, makes my whole body shake and my thighs tremble.
“David.” He must hear the warning, because he lets go of me, rising quickly to his feet to kiss me again. His mouth is hungry on mine, and I hiss when he slides a hand between us, stroking his dick along mine. I reach down to help him, and he purrs against my lips.
“You’re amazing.” He thrusts into our combined fists. The tight grip, the silk slide of his skin—I have nowhere to move, but I’m shaking from head to toe. I pinch one nipple with my free hand, and the sensation has my balls drawing up as I leak fluid that eases our movement.
“Gonna come,” I say.
“Want you to.” He puts a hand on the back of my head, guiding me to the warm, dark space against his neck. He smells like sea and salt now, and I rock as he pumps against me. His breath is a storm along my back. I reach for my nipple one more time, but he seems to know what I want, because he tips up my chin to kiss me and instead takes my lower lip between his teeth, biting down enough to sting.
I’d speak if I could, but the wave of release crashes over me. Wet come splashes between us, and David thrusts faster, smearing it along our shafts and between our fingers. I kiss him, trying to thank him, and he groans deep in his throat before he freezes, hips bucking on their own as his orgasm takes him.
We’re sticky when we finally part. I’m naked and softening and struggle not to turn away. I’ve never been totally comfortable being naked with someone else, but David leans back against the captain’s chair, a glistening streak of come on his stomach and his cock on full display like he doesn’t mind me looking at him.
So I look a lot.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod.
David walks—swaggers?—back to the bench and picks up the towel we discarded what feels like days ago. His ass is spectacular. He grins at me as he dabs at the mess on his stomach. “Wanna do it again?”
This is the part where I should say no. I’ve scratched the itch, lived the fantasy, and now I should say it’s probably best if we go back to something like a professionally hospitable relationship.
So of course the words that tumble out of my mouth are, “Well, not right now. I need a little time to recover. But later? Yeah.”
He arches an eyebrow as he tosses the towel at me. I’m relatively clean, but I take a second to wipe off my hands before I go about finding my clothes.
David is still standing in the middle of the cabin with his hands on his hips though.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“Well...” He glances around like he’s waiting for a solution to present itself. “My clothes still stink like fish, and I don’t really want to put that soggy underwear back on.”
Shit. What do I tell Harper?
