He smirked as if the matter was of no major interest to him. “Maybe there’s something I want but haven’t gotten yet.”
“What do you want?”
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “No idea. I guess I’ll know it when I see it.”
When we got to the cabin, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tee that used to be loose, but now hugged my pecs and biceps snugly. Afterward, I went outside and lit a fire. Neither of us was hungry, but Jules and I both liked sitting outdoors and since we didn’t have a TV in the cabin, staring at a fire was the next best thing. He took a while to come out. By the time he did, I’d started to feel antsy. He walked out of the cabin clean shaven. The smoothness of his face showed off his sharp jawline to perfection. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of dockers and a washed-out chambray shirt.
Oooh, God, he looked hot.
He took his time rolling up his sleeves till they fell just below the elbow. I was transfixed as he did it. My vision honed in on the parallel lines on his knuckles. I watched as he folded the fabric. His fingers were long and graceful. Blue-green veins meandered up the back of his hands, tracking up his arms before disappearing under his sleeves. I watched him so closely, I could hear the drum of his heart at every pulse point. At least, I thought I could. At some point, I couldn’t tell his heartbeat from mine. They were both loud. Persistent. They seemed to grow faster with each passing second.
I sat back on the bench, leaning heavily against the backrest, and watched Jules as he stoked the fire. His heat seemed different. He didn’t seem wild or out of control. His movements were smooth. Liquid. The calm before a storm. The moon was waning, and it was dark. The light from the cabin cast long shadows across the clearing. Night had drawn in. I noticed a thick mist encroaching. It rose up from the earth. It seemed to circle us, swirling around us in a wide arc, gradually growing closer.
Jules was talking animatedly. I was having a hard time keeping up with him. Some of what he was saying made perfect sense and some of it made none.
“…born this way,” he said.
I missed the first part, but I think he was talking about his designation.
“…best thing to be.”
I nodded slowly. I was confused and was starting to suspect Jules might be talking crazy. He stepped up onto one of the seating logs. He lifted his shirt at his sternum the same way he’d done the previous night. He flapped it gently and when he did, he seemed to fan his scent in my direction. It drifted in my direction in a thick purple haze. It was heavy. It seemed to sink to the ground, pool for a while, and then flow directly toward me. It wound its way up my legs, massaging my calves and then my thighs.
Jules leapt from one log to another. It was a long jump and for a second, I thought he wouldn’t make it, but as usual he did. Sparks flew when he landed. Real sparks. Sparks I could see as clearly as I’d have seen if I was watching metal grind against metal. They were no normal sparks, though. As soon as they ignited, they lifted up into the air and took off into the woods, darting like fireflies.
I held my breath as Jules leapt again. Sparks were still flying when he started to speak.
“. . . glad it’s you,” he said.
“Huh?” I don’t mind admitting, I was struggling to keep up.
“I said, I’m glad it’s you.”
“Glad it’s me what?”
He shook his head and blew a puff of air out of his nose. “I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re the one I get to go through all this shit with.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe it badly, but I couldn’t tell if he meant it, or if it was his heat speaking.
“Jules,” I whispered, as if I thought whispering would help me get around Jules-in-heat and somehow give me direct access to my first and best friend. “Jules, are you talking crazy?”
Jules-in-heat dropped his jaw slightly and smiled slowly at me. He flapped his shirt again, and then started to unbutton it. He handled each button with care. His movements were considered. Leisurely. He pulled his shirt open, exposing his chest and his taut, knotted abs. I slumped back in my seat. The purple haze his action released wound around my chest. It almost overwhelmed me.
“Jules,” I whispered again. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
He laughed at that. Short, hard bursts of laughter bubbled out of his chest. “Oh, Sully,” he said. “If I was trying to seduce you, you'd know all about it.”
“Oh,” I said dumbly.
He leapt from that log to the one closest to me. His unbuttoned shirt blew open and flapped heroically behind him. When he landed, he turned to face me. Sparks whirled all around him. He reached up and eased his shirt off one shoulder. My breath caught in my throat. He shrugged the other side off too and let the shirt fall to the ground. His core was engaged. His abs were clenched. His chest rose and fell. He expelled a breath through his mouth. As he did it, a puff of something that looked like fine gold glitter poured out of him. I blinked hard, but when I opened my eyes, it was still there. It was floating around him like a halo. I wondered dimly what sort of matter it was. It wasn’t susceptible to gravity. Of that much, I was certain.
Jules stepped off the log he’d been standing on and dropped to his knees. For a second, I thought he was going to shift, but he didn’t. He stayed in human form, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an animal. He lifted an arm and then a leg. His shoulders and hips moved sinuously. Fluid. I was rendered immobile as he crawled lazily to me. I couldn’t move, and I don’t just mean my limbs. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t swallow. Hell, I couldn’t breathe.
When he got to my feet, he ran a hand up my calf. My legs parted of their own volition. He placed a palm on both of my knees. His heat burned through my clothes, searing my flesh. He looked up at me. Flames flickered in his eyes. I couldn’t tell if the reflections came from the fire, or if what I saw in his eyes were merely a reflection of mine. Either way, the way he looked at me made my brain sizzle.
Who was this wild, wanton boy who looked like my friend?
He moved his hands up the seams of my jeans. He did it slowly. So slowly, I could hear the tiny click as he dragged his nails over each stitch. By the time he got to where my inseam met my groin, I was digging my nails into the bench, panting, hips squirming. My dick was so hard, it was almost impossible to think of anything else.
