It was disappointment. That was the noise he’d heard. He’d taken his hands away, and Evan had made a sound of complaint and…
Heath tightened the soapy fist around his cock while his mind ventured down the dark and dangerous alley of possibility. The sliver of chance Evan might not be as straight as he’d thought. He’d never even asked. Why would he have? They’d been snipping at one another from the first hello. What would it have mattered if Evan had a little bend in his road?
Leaning against the wall, he bit down on his forearm to keep the guttural moan from echoing through the house. No,theyhadn’t been snipping;hehad. He was the one who’d judged Evan on sight and become a bitchy menace. All the while, Evanhad handled it with grace and humor, and some spectacular clapbacks.
Christ, but nothing was sexier than a man with a sharp tongue.
Heath bit down harder, balls aching and his cock swelling furiously as pre-cum leaked over his fingers. This was unconscionable. He’d been a hairsbreadth from calling Evan’s bluff and fled the room rather than risk it.
What will I do if it isn’t? Oh, Evan, do you really want the answer?
Did he want to hear the list Heath had compiled? It was lengthy and covered every perfect inch of the man’s body. Twice.
Jesus. Fuck.
The promise of sweet release pulsed low in his spine. Visions of Evan parading around in that obscene Speedo. The way he wandered the house in only a pair of loose shorts that showed off the dimples above his ass. The very same dimples Heath had dug his thumbs into that afternoon while grabbing those hips with implied intention.
He wanted to trace his tongue along the tease of ginger-brown peeking out from those low-riding pants. Bury his face between the swell of those magnificent ass cheeks. Wrap his lips around what was surely a magnificent cock, because no deity would be so cruel as to create a man so fine and give him an ugly dick.
Oh, to see Evan in full naked splendor. Spread and hard, riding his face into the sunset.
A blinding flash exploded behind Heath’s eyes. The orgasm turned him inside out and back again. He trembled and shuddered, his knees buckling and his teeth leaving marks on his skin as he moaned low and loud.
Slithering down the wall, he collapsed into a puddle on the cool stone floor. Aftershocks twitched through his muscles, and he closed his eyes, letting the cool water pelt against his face and chest.
Of all the idiotic things he could have done, developing a crush on the probably straight guy he was about to spend another week shackled to took a bakery’s worth of cakes.
His sigh echoed through the bathroom. What of this afternoon’s oath? Hadn’t he promised to take whatever the universe dished out? Was he going to honor that, or let it vaporize like the other vows he’d made before leaving on this unmitigated disaster of a vacation?
Was he even capable of just accepting life at face value without overthinking and ruining it? Somewhere in Boston his friends were shouting,No!
Say hell froze over, and Evan walked into the room, grabbed him by the dick, and led him to bed. What then? He was a failure at casual. The tiniest hint of emotional reciprocation and he’d be a goner.
“You’re already a goner,” he muttered to the ceiling, thudding his head against the wall. When would he learn that the lure of the unattainable was a trap and not a challenge?
He couldn’t even run to his room and hide. The bed on the porch was sopping wet, as were his belongings. The one pair of shorts not caught in the storm would have to last him until they got power back and he could do laundry.
No, he would have to go out there and look Evan in the eye, knowing he’d just come all over the shower wall picturing him face down and ass up on the master bedroom’s king bed.
When he finally gathered the bravery to leave the bathroom, the sound of faint snoring directed his attention to the couch. Evan was passed out on his back, in all his lovely glory. A masterpiece of broad shoulders, thick legs, fine cheekbones, and soft lips. The tension he’d been carrying since they’d left theIbizawas quiet. He looked calm and relaxed. Peaceful, though the world beyond the windows continued to rage.
Heath warred with whether to wake him. He’d sleep better in an actual bed, but that would mean looking him in the eyeand possibly allowing the partially opened can of worms to squirm free.
Or he could borrow the bed for the night and sleep surrounded by Evan’s things, wrapped in his scent. Was that creepy? An invasion of privacy? Yes and yes, but he was going to do it anyway.
While he hadn’t expected Evan to be a slob, the tidy, Type-A order of the room was surprising. Luggage stowed in a corner of the closet, its contents fully unpacked and away in their respective places. Clothes in the dresser and wardrobe. Shower and shaving items tucked neatly in an accessories bag on the table by the door. His slutty little glasses sat on the nightstand, next to a well-read copy ofWithin a Budding Grove.
Wait. Proust? Heath plucked the book from the table and immediately recognized it as his own copy. How did Evan have it?
It was the book he’d been reading when they’d argued on the patio. He’d been brushing up in expectation of his conversation with Isabella and must have left it on the counter during his day of wallowing. Evan was reading it?
Thoughts and emotions swirled through him. Too many at once, and he sat heavily on the edge of the bed to keep them from knocking him over. It was the only untidy part of the room. Evan had pulled the bedding up, but not in any sense of order, and the ends of the sheets and blankets were untucked from the bottom of the mattress. They also smelled divine. Evan’s cologne, mixed with coconut and clean. He’d been using the resort’s soap, a mild verbena that blended so well, Heath’s mouth watered thinking of licking it from his skin.
Instead, he fell against the pillows with a dramatic flop worthy of a teenage melodrama and inhaled until his lungs were full to bursting.
He thought of Evan asleep on the couch. Sprawled on his back, with one arm behind his head and one leg hiked up at anangle. He could picture him in bed next to him in that same pose, with a corner of the sheet pulled up for modesty, but not a blessed thing else obscuring what a work of art he was.
He could also imagine that modesty falling away as the morning dawned and Evan’s cock did what cocks so often do in the early hours. Or maybe Heath would have helped it along. Provided some gentle motivation to rise and shine.
