The moon was full, and so bright that he saw spots when he closed his eyes to blink. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, just stars and more stars, and that glorious moon.
There was a gentle breeze blowing that kept the humidity from knocking him out. Titus listened to the sound of the waves rolling in. He walked closer to the water, then closed his eyes again. The more he listened, the more musical the waves were. If he let his mind wander, he could imagine some underwater deity having an orchestra of merfolk playing unique instruments thousands of feet below the surface of the water. The sound would just barely reach the open air, a shush suss, shush suss of water caressing the sand.
Then his mind drifted to caresses and lovers and how long it’d been since he’d had one, how long since he’d been touched with care or even desire.
“Too long,” he whispered, letting the wind carry his words off, along with his peaceful mood. He opened his eyes and blamed the wetness at the corners of them on the wind. Titus gave the waves one last look, then went back to the condo. He’d give himself this one moody night, then he’d relax and enjoy the rest of his vacation.
When he slept that night, he dreamed of wild, whimsical music and waves lapping at his feet.
Chapter Two
The sunlight had barely peeked through the curtains when someone knocked on Titus’ bedroom door. “S’minutes.”
Well, his tongue wasn’t any more awake than the rest of him.
“It’s just me,” Stacy called out. “Are you decent?”
“Never,” Titus snorted, prying his eyes open. “Ugh. What the heck, Stace? It’s too early.”
Stacy flung the door open. She looked like hell, hair standing up every which way, and bags under her eyes, her hangover apparent. “I gotta go, sweets. I’m sorry, but Michelle just called and she got in a huge fight with her parents over us and she’s on the way home and so—”
Titus’ stomach dipped. Stacy was going to leave him here, alone?
“I know it’s not like she’s hurt physically, but emotionally, she’s a wreck,” Stacy said. “I…I need to be there for her when her plane lands. I love her.”
Titus cleared his throat. “Yeah, I—it’s fine. You could always bring her here, if you want?”
Stacy bit her bottom lip, and Titus knew what was coming.
“I think I need to spend time with her, just the two of us,” Stacy finally replied. “They went off the rails for some reason. Well, could be the new preacher at their church, I guess, and I don’t want Michelle to leave me, Titus. I couldn’t stand it if she did.”
“Go on. I’ll be fine, but the offer stands.” Titus rubbed at his eyes. “Besides, I can have wild, loud sex once you’re gone.”
That set Stacy off into a fit of laughter, and Titus flipped her off. “I hope your head pounds all morning.”
Stacy stopped laughing long enough to say, “Doesn’t hurt. I’m hangover-proof.”
Titus thought it wise not to point out her hair or eye bags. He wasn’t generally a stupid guy. “Then go pack. I want to get up and piss, and I’m naked. You can’t see my junk.”
“Ew.” Stacy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to see your junk. I’ll shower, then pack, then find you and say goodbye. You’re the best, you know?”
“Yeah.” Nope. Titus began to kick off the sheet.
Stacy shrieked and yelled, “My eyes!” before turning and running out of the room.
Titus got up and stretched. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Stacy leaving him alone. Disappointed at first, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He could walk around naked if he wanted to, and jack off on the couch—well, not on the couch, because he was pretty sure the condo owners would not take kindly to that. But he would have a certain amount of freedom he wouldn’t have if he shared the place with someone else.
And who knew? Maybe he would get lucky.
Though what that meant, exactly, he couldn’t say. He didn’t do one-night stands, and he wasn’t going to find a long-term lover in the few days he was at the coast. Almost everyone here were tourists anyway.
Titus headed toward the en suite attached to his room. Thinking about dating and sex was not making his morning any better—and that was a sad state of affairs, because thinking about sex should have perked at least one part of him up.
But knowing that Stacy would be waiting to tell him goodbye kept Titus from taking a few minutes to jerk off in the shower. He did manage a quick scrub-down before drying and throwing on a pair of swim trunks.
Stacy looked like she’d done a complete one-eighty in the fifteen minutes since he’d last seen her. She was freshly showered, had makeup on and her luggage rested by her left foot as she sipped a cup of coffee. “Slow poke.”
Titus groaned and headed for the coffee pot. “It’s not fair. You already have coffee.”
“You don’t even like the stuff,” Stacy retorted.
“But I need it,” Titus grumbled, reaching for a mug. He poured himself some coffee, then added enough sugar and cream to kill the bitter taste.
“That’s gross, man,” Stacy said. “You just turned your drink into sugared milk.”
“Caffeinated sugared milk,” Titus corrected. The milk had also cooled the liquid down enough that he could gulp it.
“Look, I really am sorry. I can ask Michelle if she wants to come up tomorrow, but I don’t think she will.” Stacy did her lip-biting thing again, then continued. “Or maybe she will. She’ll feel bad—”
“It’s fine,” Titus interrupted. “I think maybe it’ll do me good to be alone for a few days. Plus I don’t have to wear clothes in here.”
“Er, okay, if that’s a plus…” Stacy took another sip, then set her coffee cup on the counter. “I’m heading out. I am sorry. I want to keep our beach tradition going.”
“We will.” Titus had actually thought it would come to an end—Stacy and Michelle were falling more and more in love every day. They’d be wanting to live their lives together eventually. Although, there were plenty of couples who vacationed together. But if Michelle’s family cut her off— That was a horrible thought.
“Don’t look so serious,” Stacy advised. “Give me a hug. I’ll text when I’m home.”
Titus set his cup down and folded Stacy into his arms. “Drive safe. Give Michelle a kiss for me.”
“Uh, I want a kiss, too.” Stacy tipped her cheek toward him.
Titus gave her a smacking peck on it. “Good?”
“Yeah.” She picked up her bag, and with a, “Bye,” Stacy left the condo.
Titus glanced around at the place. Stacy had been gone ten seconds, and the silence made his ears ring.
“Screw this.” Titus grabbed an apple and a bottle of water, then trotted out of the door and down onto the beach.
The sun was barely up, and it was cool out, but not cold. In another couple of hours, it’d be simmering outside. He took a bite of the apple and strolled closer to the water. He kept thinking, of all things, about the Disney character, Moana, and her desire to be out on the water, voyaging away.
Then of course he started singing one of the songs from the movie in between eating his apple. Titus kept his voice soft as a surprisingly peaceful feeling began to steal over him.
Before he knew it, he was wading into the water, taking slow, cautious steps while he stared at the point where the ocean and sky met. The sand gave way quickly under his feet, sucking them down an inch or two if he stood still for very long. He stopped when his knees were covered. The water was warm, and its salt perfumed the air.
He took the last bite of his apple, then tucked the core into his pocket after a quick debate over the legality and ecological consequences of dumping even organic trash in the water. He didn’t want to break any laws or harm any sea creatures, so he could deal with the remains being in his pocket.
Titus took another step or two then stopped when he spotted movement not forty or so feet in front of him.
With the sun stil
l not all the way up, he couldn’t be sure what he saw—a pelican, maybe, or a dolphin? He squinted. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t harm him. Titus resumed his song, daring to sing a little louder. It seemed to him that the breeze supplied perfect backup vocals, whipping around him in time with the tune.
Then he noticed that the thing he’d seen appeared to be closer.
And that there was a fin on it.
A big, scary fin.
That was probably attached to a big, hungry shark.
It was coming right at him.
Titus couldn’t even shriek as panic engulfed him. His feet seemed to be stuck in the sand.
Oh, no. That was just him being paralyzed in fear.
Move! Move! Titus shouted in his head. He got one foot up, took a back-step, then did it again, and again—
And figured he was shark bait when his heel landed on something hard and sharp. Titus didn’t even have time to shout before he toppled backward.
Chapter Three
Draven smacked Riveen on the shoulder. “You’re such an asshole.”
Riveen snickered and pulled the boogie board under the water. “What? It was funny, and it’s not my fault he can’t tell the boogie board from a shark fin. Did you see his face?”
Draven whacked his brother again. “Asshole. You’re a major—”
Before he could say another word, he and Riveen were tugged under as a wave built up.
Draven and Riveen were strong swimmers. Even with Riveen dragging the boogie board along, it didn’t take them long at all to reach the pier a hundred yards away. Draven swiped at the wet hair blotting his vision, gaze immediately aimed in the direction he’d last seen the man Riveen had scared. “Such an asshole.”
“I think maybe you think I’m an asshole?” Riveen hazarded with enough sarcasm to suffocate the average person as he moved to stand in front of Draven. “Which is odd, ’cause I think you have a seriously depleted sense of humor.”
“Hard to have a sense of humor when my brother’s a joke,” Draven retorted. Jeez, he’d reverted back to age ten all of a sudden. Riveen had that effect on him.
“Oh, ha ha ha,” Riveen drawled. “You’re so hilarious. You’re just mad ’cause I scared off the object of your spank bank material.”
Draven spun and had Riveen’s head under the water in a heartbeat.
Riveen kicked, and Draven went under a second later. They scuffled for a moment, then shoved away from each other and resurfaced.
“Can you just stop being—?”
“An asshole?” Riveen asked. “Uh, probably not.”
Draven nodded. Well, that was an honest answer at least. “He isn’t spank bank anything.”
“Riiiiiiiight. So you weren’t out here last night ogling him?” Riveen snorted. “Dude, I was with you, and I know you weren’t checking out the woman. Not your type of fish.”
“They aren’t fish, and we’re out here almost every night. Stop making me sound like a stalker.”
Riveen splashed Draven. “Stop protesting. It’s because we’re out here together so often that I noticed you drooling over him. Wanna know his name?”
Draven considered trying to drown his brother. Not seriously…for the most part.
“Of course you do. His name is…” Riveen whispered, leaning close. Then he shot back and shouted, “Hey, Titus!”
“Jesus Christ! You ass—” Draven hissed as he spotted the man he’d been looking for before Riveen had been, well, Riveen. And the man—Titus, Draven guessed, because he sure had turned around quickly when Riveen shouted his name—wasn’t as far away from them as Draven had expected him to be, which was dangerous. Sound carried over the water, but Draven didn’t think Titus was that close to them.
“Who’s out there?” Titus demanded, shielding his eyes as if the sun, not the moon, were shining brightly. “Who are you?”
“Should I answer him?” Riveen whispered, his voice full of wicked promises.
Draven tore his gaze away from Titus long enough to glare at Riveen. “Why are you doing this?”
Riveen’s brilliant smile died away. “Drave, you have to take a chance sometime.”
Draven was incensed. “That’s for me to decide, isn’t it? Not you.”
Riveen shook his head. “You’ll never do anything but look and lust.”
“Who’s out there?” Titus asked again, his voice wavering.
“He’s going to start to think he was hallucinating or something,” Riveen said. “Poor guy.”
“You’re not pushing me to do anything.” Draven hated being goaded into something. He resolutely refused to look in Titus’ direction again.
Riveen scowled. “You’re just going to let that poor guy wonder who yelled his name?”
Draven gave Riveen his own grim smile. “Nope. You are.”
“This isn’t funny,” Titus yelled.
Guilt sucked. Draven hated it. But he wouldn’t let Riveen manipulate him. If he let it happen this time, Riveen would forever think he could push Draven to do whatever he wanted.
Draven grabbed Riveen’s arm, hard. “Sorry, dude. I’m just a creep named Riveen who saw you out here last night. I have no manners.”
Riveen bared his teeth and fisted a handful of Draven’s hair. “Fine. I’ll go talk to him. He’s cute.” In a flash, Riveen was free and headed for the shore. “Sorry, man. I know that’s creepy, but I’m out here fishing or boogie boarding most nights. Saw you with your friend last night, and she said your name.”
Titus stopped twenty feet or so from the water. “That is creepy.”
“Yeah. My brother Draven calls me an asshole all the time, but he’s a stick in the mud.” Riveen kept walking as he talked, and Titus didn’t move away.
Draven ducked farther under the pier but glared daggers at Riveen. Why was Riveen being such a dick? Why was he pushing so hard? Why can’t he just let me…? Draven didn’t finish the thought. He took one last look at Titus and ignored the funny dip in his belly. He was going to leave. Let the water envelope him and take him home.
He really was. Riveen wouldn’t win this battle.
Then Titus laughed—not an entirely comfortable sound, either—at something Riveen said, and Draven fisted his hands.
Riveen held up the boogie board, and Titus’ expression shifted from uncomfortable to possibly anger. Draven was betting on irritation at the very least.
He nodded to himself. Good. Maybe Titus will rip Riveen a new one.
Except, Riveen was really handsome, and he had that annoying, cheery personality thing going on. Not when it came to Draven, but for everyone else. What would Draven do if Riveen and Titus hooked up?
That thought jarred Draven. He wouldn’t do anything. He didn’t know Titus and didn’t intend to change that.
Draven finally found the strength to slip down into the water, chased by the sound of Riveen’s lilting voice.
Draven shifted, and if he moved a little slower than usual as he headed home, it was only because he was enjoying the freedom from his almost ever-present brother.
And he’d keep telling himself that until he believed it.
Chapter Four
Despite what the man who’d called himself Riveen had said, Titus still thought he was a creep. Riveen had been handsome, too much so, and perfection had never worked for Titus. As far as he’d seen, there wasn’t even a hint of imperfection on Riveen.
“Unless I count his personality.” Titus snorted and got into the shower. Riveen was too boisterous, too chirpy and self-assured for Titus. Not that Titus was looking for a guy who was insecure. Riveen, however, radiated a smugness that was off-putting.
And Titus didn’t buy his story about the whole name thing. Well, maybe Riveen had heard Stacy say his name the night before. That was entirely possible. Titus didn’t remember every word of his and Stacy’s conversation.
Regardless, he shuddered as he tried to forget about the encounter on the beach. Riveen’s sense of humor sucked, too. Jerk. Titus firmly sh
oved the man from his thoughts and grabbed the bar of soap and a washcloth. He lathered up the cloth, then scrubbed the saltwater from his skin.
Titus luxuriated under the shower for several minutes, letting go of everything except the moment he was in. He touched himself just for the sheer eroticism of it, though he didn’t reach for his cock to jack off. There was something to be said for anticipation—and he definitely felt a sense of that, though he couldn’t have said why.
When the water began to run cool, he tipped the showerhead down, keeping the chilled water off him, then poured out a palmful of conditioner. Slowly, so exquisitely slowly and perfectly, he began to spread the conditioner over his hard dick. After so many minutes of caressing himself, not letting himself think, only feel, Titus’ imagination sprang to life.
He didn’t control it, or try to, just let the visions flash behind his closed lids as he fisted his hand around his length to begin a leisurely stroke.
With his other hand, Titus cupped his balls. In his mind’s eye, there was a rough, bigger hand on his shaft, a matching one fondling his nuts. He could picture glimpses of dark brown, maybe even inky black irises staring at him, big eyes, narrow nose, thick eyebrows drawn together—but he didn’t envision an entire face.
That was okay. He gasped as pleasure coursed from his cock and balls to all points throughout his body. Titus tipped his head back and propped one foot on the side of the shower stall. That gave him access to move his fingers past his balls, to trail them back and forth over the soft skin behind his sac while he twisted his other hand around the head of his dick.
Little sparks shot out over his fantasy man, reds and golds bursting from the corner of his imaginary lover before fading away. Titus slipped his fingers even farther and teased them over his hole as he jacked himself a little faster. Masturbating felt good, but how much better would it be to have someone actually there with him, watching him, encouraging him—touching him?
It’d been so long since Titus had been touched, been loved, made love to, that he almost couldn’t remember what it felt like. Maybe he never really had known how it would feel to be more than just some guy’s piece of ass. He’d thought, once upon a time, that someone had cared, but—
In Deep Page 2
