Smooth.
Real smooth.
Still, those gray eyes devoured him whole with their wolfish, lascivious hunger.
Matthew’s lips parted slightly and a shiver shot down his spine that not even the balmy Fijian weather could keep at bay. Was this for real? The stranger’s default expression had to be sex-on-steroids, because there was no way anyone as attractive as him would look at someone as bumbling and simple as Matthew and think, “Yeah, I wanna put my dick in that.”
Right?
Matthew bit the inside of his lip and tried to tell himself that he had no valid reason for a full-body freak out, but try as he might, his heart refused to cooperate. He understood now why Alex had gone after his father despite their age difference. God, did he understand.
“Well,” the man tucked his hands into his pockets and fixed Matthew with a smile that would melt the polar icecaps, “I’m glad you see me now.”
Oh, fuck.
Oh,fuck.
Was that flirting?
The man’s lips lifted at the corners in almost undetectable ways. It was as if he knew what he was doing to Matthew and was glad about it. “When they told me the sights in Fiji were beautiful, I’d assumed they meant the beaches. I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”
Yup, it was definitely flirting. Actual flirting. Withhim.If Matthew’s cheeks got any hotter, he was sure it wouldn’t be long before an astronomer came along and classified them as stars.
Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. Matthew was dressed in a faded graphic tee and pair of cargo shorts, for Christ’s sake. The stranger had to be mistaken. Or drunk. Possibly drunk. The allure of colorful fruity drinks with miniature novelty umbrellas was strong. It had to be some good stuff if a man who looked like he owned all of Hollywood believed Matthew was worth his time.
“I’m Damien,” the stranger said, holding out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you here for long?”
“A week.” Was it possible to die from wanting someone too goddamn much? The earth could have swallowed Matthew whole and he wouldn’t have noticed, so long as it swallowed Damien, too.
“Lucky me. I’m here for a week, too.” Damien’s winning smile turned into a grin that made Matthew’s heart stop, then jacked it into overdrive. “We might very well run into each other again. What’s your name?”
“Matthew.”
Damien’s eyes narrowed, and it looked for a prolonged minute like what Matthew had said didn’t compute. Had he screwed it up? As flustered as he was, maybe he’d said something weird instead of his own name, like, “Fuck you,” which sounded like Matthew if spoken too quickly, or, “I’m an albatross, fuck off,” which sounded nothing like Matthew, but was the kind of thing he might accidentally say while out of his mind with want.
“I’m sorry.” Damien said uneasily. “Can you repeat that?”
“My name is Matthew,” Matthew said, making sure his vocal cords didn’t go rogue this time. “Matthew Gwynn.”
Damien opened his mouth to speak and lifted a hand to gesture, then shook his head and rubbed his mouth, a troubled look in his eyes. Had a Matthew in his past disparaged his mother? Stolen his milk money? Run off with his high school sweetheart? Whatever it was, it seemed to be causing Damien significant distress.
At least, it did temporarily.
After scrubbing his mouth for a moment, Damien gave Matthew a once-over and muttered, “Oh.” A moment later, he dropped his hand and arched a brow. The hunger had returned to his eyes, but this time, it was more intense. The sight of it trapped the air in Matthew’s lungs and locked his legs in place. A look like that made Damien’s intention clear, and while Matthew knew he should have run, his cock twitched, and his body yearned for the dark delights Damien’s eyes promised.
It was wrong to want to fuck a stranger.
It was worse to want to fuck one when that stranger so clearly meant trouble.
And yet…
“Well, Matthew Gwynn,” Damien said at last, “I’ll certainly be seeing you around.”
He winked, then brushed by Matthew, leaving him with nothing more than the memory of their conversation. Heart hammering, Matthew watched him go. The one week he was spending in Fiji was a gift—a final hurrah before Matthew spent the next four years of his life balancing the workload that came with being a full-time college student with the responsibility of being a single dad. His father hadn’t paid his expenses for him to stay cooped up and complacent in his bungalow, miserable that he’d left his daughter behind.
A little fun wouldn’t be so bad.
And if that fun walked with the confidence of a movie star and smirked like life itself was a punchline, all the better yet.
