The champagne is light and fizzy, and I hiccup as I swallow, making the bubbles go up my nose. David’s watching me as he sips his. It’s like the first morning on the boat where we shared a mug of coffee. I felt connected to him despite all my resentment at being here and all the training that told me to keep my distance.
“How was your dinner?” I ask.
He slips a hand into mine, pulling me out toward the balcony.
“It was good,” he says. “Everything here is good. Five stars. Will definitely recommend it to all my friends when I get home.”
The stars are bright, dusting the sky in sparkling blue and white.
“Not everyone gets this experience,” I say, putting an arm around his waist.
“I would never imply that they would. Even without it though, this place is pretty special. I was so down when I found out we were coming, but it’s been better than I expected.”
“Even with the fish guts?” I ask.
David laughs as he leans in to kiss me. “I’ll leave that part out of my review.”
He tastes like champagne. His glass has somehow disappeared, and he puts a hand on my hips, holding me close as he pulls me in. David takes my glass from me. He sets it down on a small table made from a tree stump, then comes back to kiss at my throat. His mouth is warm. So is my whole body. Even the cooling night air doesn’t touch me as we explore. His shirt is untucked, so it’s easy for me to find the smooth skin underneath. He murmurs appreciatively as he pulls my shirt from my waistband and glides his own hands along my belly and up my back.
“Mountain man,” he says.
“I’m not much for heights.”
He laughs and slides my shirt off over my head. Now I feel the chill, but it only serves to contrast with the warmth of his palms and his mouth as he touches all of me.
“What do you want to do?” he asks. “What do you like?”
It’s been a while for me, and my interests have always been pretty vanilla. Hands, mouths, dicks.
“I’ve got a condom and lube in my pocket,” I say. Marci said it was pretty easy to find what I’d asked for.
David kisses me, using his teeth to pull at my bottom lip while he slides one hand into my front pocket until he finds what he wants. He stays a moment longer, letting his fingers graze over the hardening outline of my dick. I groan, arching my hips, trying to give him the space to touch me fully, but even the thin fabric of the pocket is more of a barrier than I want. This would all be so much easier with no pants.
He must have the same idea, because he lets go of me and spins on his heel. “Come inside.” He holds up the condom between two fingers like I needed any more enticement. I stumble after him, shivering without my shirt on, but by the time I’ve closed the door again, David has unbuttoned his own shirt and folded it gently over the back of the sofa. He unloops his belt and opens his fly. He’s beautiful. He turns as he pulls his pants off, watching me as I watch the perfect curve of his ass when it appears from behind the gray fabric.
He smiles. “Like what you see?”
I’ve been staring, but the question drives me to act. I slip my jeans off and stumble toward him in my underwear. My dick is begging to be set free as I crash into him, taking us both to the bed. He laughs underneath me as he spreads his thighs, and I settle against him. I want to feel his long legs wrapped around me.
“Yes,” he says, dragging his nails along my back. “You’re so hot. Do you know that? I’ve wanted you since the first morning I saw you.”
“I’m hot?” I slide a hand between us to grip him, and he drops his head back, arching underneath me. “I’ve never met anyone who looked like you. I think you could definitely try being a model. Not that I know anything about that, but look at you, David. I mean—”
“Jack.” He stops moving against me. His whole body goes still.
“No, I’m serious.” I kiss him, trying to get him to respond again. “You’re the best-looking guy I’ve ever met. I—”
“Stop. This isn’t right. Jack, I need to tell you something.”
A knock is the only warning we get. It’s followed immediately by the whir of the lock, before the door to the room is thrown open and Mr. Morgan storms in.
“You reckless, horny asshole!” he shouts.
“Jesus Christ, Vin.” David’s voice is even louder. “A little privacy would be good.” He pushes against me, so I roll toward the big windows and away from his angry boss.
“You had one job!” Mr. Morgan is saying. Did David call him Vin? But Vin is David’s best friend, not his boss. “One job. Lie low. We offered you alternatives. Roberta and Ivy and I have been busting our asses trying to figure this out, but all you had to do was keep your head down. And what do you do instead?”
“Get the fuck out.” David points toward the door. His words and posture are full of authority. Even if Mr. Morgan is the twelfth wealthiest man in Boston or whatever, I would be so pissed about this violation of boundaries if I were David.
