Not least because of Josh...
And wasn’t that a bolt from the blue? Talk about blindsided. But the moment the guy had ambled into the garage in his Zeppelin shirt, guitar in one hand and a notebook tucked under his arm, Finn had felt the world tilt.
“I sometimes like to play here,” Josh had said, glancing around the garage, all languid curiosity. “Do you mind?”
Finn had raised an eyebrow, taken in the shock of dark hair and too-blue eyes. “Depends, I guess. Who are you?”
“Oh.” He’d smiled awkwardly and offered a hand. “I’m Joshua. Newton, of course. The black sheep.”
Finn had taken his hand, noting the slender musician’s fingers, and said, “I’m Finn. Callaghan, of course. Prodigal son.”
Josh had smiled, suddenly, as if the expression had been startled out of him, and the handshake had lasted a good few beats longer than necessary.
After that it had taken three days of Josh hanging out in the garage, of appraising looks and slow smiles, before Finn had asked him if he wanted to take one of the cars for a drive. They’d found themselves stretched out beneath the sun in a little hollow in the dunes overlooking the bay. And although Finn had never had the guts to actually touch a guy before, when Josh propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at him with those intense blue eyes Finn had felt his whole world opening up wide and new.
They didn’t speak. Josh just leaned in with slow, deliberate intent and kissed him. And just like that everything had clicked into place. Finn had realized that he’d been looking for love in all the wrong places and that God, or fate, was showing him the error of his ways.
If he could have, he’d have fallen to his knees in gratitude. Instead, he’d just laid back, slipped his fingers into Joshua’s thick dark hair, and pulled him into his arms.
Three weeks later, Josh was stretched out on the back seat of his father’s ’65 Mustang convertible, scribbling music in the notebook he always carried. It was a steamy day with storm clouds heavy on the horizon and his dark hair curled damply around his ears as he hummed to himself.
Finn felt an unutterable fondness blossom in his chest just looking at him. “We should go to the beach,” he said, touching a hand to Josh’s bare ankle. “Take a swim and cool off.”
“Mmm,” Josh agreed, still writing. “And then we should go to bed...” That stopped Finn in his tracks, because they hadn’t—yet. Josh glanced up, less nonchalant than he was trying to appear. “That is, if you want to?”
“I—Yes,” Finn said. “I do.” He really did. It was just that he never had, not with a guy.
“Don’t worry.” Josh smiled, setting aside his music. “It’s not so different. I’ll show you.”
While Finn locked up the garage, Josh leaned against the wall next to him and stared across the lawn at his father’s house. Finn couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind his sunglasses, but when he touched his wrist Josh came back to him with a smile. “Let’s swim,” he said.
Hanworth Hall’s manicured garden was separated from the cliff by a fence and a gate, and beyond them a footpath ran along the cliff top as it sloped down toward New Milton Bay. You could walk all the way to town that way, if you wanted, and from there up to the hotel on the opposite headland. Or you could climb over the rocks and onto the quiet end of the beach where the dunes gathered. Finn liked the dunes best, the places where he and Josh could hide away together.
They walked in silence until they’d left the grounds of Hanworth Hall and Finn felt Josh relax the moment the gate shut behind them. They made their way down the path to the beach sharing smiles, shoulders brushing and fingers winding together. The heat was thick, despite the rising onshore breeze. By the time they’d scrambled over the rocks at the base of the cliff and jumped down onto the sand, Finn was sweating and eager for the cool of the ocean.
Without hesitation, Josh stripped off his T-shirt, kicked off his flip-flops, and set his sunglasses with them on the rocks. Lean, sinewy muscle, a scattering of dark hair on his tan chest, swim shorts slung low enough to reveal the sharp cut of his hipbones: Josh was gorgeous and Finn was utterly spellbound.
“Come on.” Josh grinned, giving Finn’s shoulder a playful shove. “Last one in the water’s a dirty fag...”
Finn laughed and they raced across the sand toward the ocean, Josh outpacing him at the last, and flung themselves into the cool water. It felt delicious against his hot skin and he whooped with pleasure, leaping into the waves and letting them pull him under and tumble him over. Standing, shaking water out of his ears, he turned to find Josh. He was sweeping back his wet hair, water streaming across his shoulders and chest, and despite the chill water Finn felt himself growing hard just at the sight of him. Finn glanced around, but even at this end of the beach there were too many people to risk any public display of affection. So he did the next best thing and tackled Josh—in a red-blooded way—sending them both under the water again.
Josh surfaced, laughing and feigning outrage, and they wrestled for a while in the surf. Just two guys horsing around until the rub of sleek wet bodies together became too much for both of them and they broke apart, panting.
“Your trailer,” Josh said breathlessly. “Let’s go to your trailer, Finn.”
His trailer was on the edge of the Hanworth estate, parked behind the house and hidden from it by a stand of trees. They walked up wet from the beach, T-shirts slung over shoulders, not saying much but both aware of the hungry anticipation beating between them. Finn wondered if people could tell, just looking at them, how much they wanted each other. By the time they reached the lawn, the rising wind behind them was driving the first fat raindrops ahead of the storm and in the distance thunder rumbled.
Josh turned his face to the sky, arms spread wide as he smiled. “I love rainstorms.”
I love you, Finn thought with a lightning flash of revelation. I’m utterly in love with you.
Dazzled by the thought he ran the last few yards to the trailer with his heart pounding frantic as a caged bird, Josh laughing in horrified delight as the rain set in for real.
It hammered on the thin roof as Finn pulled the door shut behind them, the afternoon light turning dusky inside the trailer. And then it was just the two of them, breathing hard in the small space, damp from the sea and the rain. Finn glanced at the wrinkled sheets on his bed and wished he’d bothered to straighten up this morning. He hadn’t expected—
Josh put his fingers to Finn’s jaw, turning his face toward him. “Shh,” he said, even though Finn hadn’t spoken. “It’s alright.” In the dim light, his blue eyes were dark as the ocean. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“I do want,” Finn said, covering Josh’s fingers with his own, turning his face to kiss his palm. “I want everything with you, Josh. You just gotta show me how...”
Josh’s smile was sudden and brilliant, like sun on water. “It’s easy,” he said. “Just do what makes you feel good.” And he leaned in to press their lips together, soft and warm against the slight chill from the rain.
Closing his eyes, Finn lost himself in the sensation of Josh’s mouth moving over his, of the slow slide of their tongues, and the summer scent of his skin. When Josh trailed a hand down Finn’s side, caressing him from ribs to waist, it felt electric. Finn had been with his fair share of girls, but this... This was something else. When Josh touched him, the hairs on his neck bristled. When their bare chests pressed together, Finn felt so powerful he could roar. And when Josh rolled his hips forward, his stiff cock rubbing against Finn’s through the thin fabric of their shorts, it set his blood alight.
“Fuck, Josh.” He grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging his head back to deepen the kiss, and Josh groaned and surged harder against him, his stifled gasps almost too much to bear. Finn was afraid he might come right there, like an overeager teen.
“Bed,” Josh said, breaking
away and holding Finn at bay with one hand on his chest while he caught his breath. He looked wild and beautiful, damp hair disheveled and chest heaving. Finn wanted every part of him, every inch. Josh studied him too, silence curling around them, until, with a smile that was charmingly shy, he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his swim shorts and slowly slipped them off.
Finn’s mouth dried. He’d seen naked guys before, but not like this—not when he was allowed to look, not when Josh was curling his hand around his stiff cock and giving it a slow, deliberate stroke. Blood burning, Finn watched him climb naked onto the bed and lie back, propped up on his elbows, aroused, hard and waiting. Josh was trying for nonchalant, but Finn could see how hard he was breathing, the flush in his cheeks spreading down to his chest. It only made him more irresistible.
Feeling his own face heat, Finn dropped his shorts and for a beat stood there beneath Josh’s wide-eyed gaze, watching him chew his bottom lip. Then Josh held out a hand in invitation. Heart pounding, Finn went to him, crawling onto the bed and into Josh’s waiting arms. His skin was warm and smelled like the sea and the rain, his hard cock sliding over Finn’s the most erotic sensation of Finn’s life.
Josh kissed him, both hands on his face as he nudged Finn onto his back and held him there. Despite his lean frame, Josh was strong. Finn could feel it now in a way he never had before and it thrilled him. Josh kissed him deep, pressing him down with the weight of his body, their legs tangling as they rocked their hips together.
“Josh...” Slipping his hands into his thick hair, Finn kissed him as their bodies ground together in a slow, tortuous rhythm. He felt dizzy with desire, burning from the inside out in a way he’d never known. He never wanted this to stop but he could hardly contain his rocketing desire.
With a soft groan, Josh broke the kiss and let his mouth trail along Finn’s jaw to his neck, his throat. He sucked a bruise into the skin over Finn’s collarbone, the pleasure-pain of it making Finn buck up against him. Josh smiled, looking up through dark lashes. “You liked that.”
Finn could only nod and watch Josh’s smile turn roguish as he continued his slow exploration. Drawing one nipple into his mouth, he sucked and nibbled until Finn put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, the sensation too intense.
A flash-fire lit Josh’s eyes. “I don’t think so,” he said and gripped Finn’s wrist, pinning it to the bed next to his shoulder. Finn caught his breath, shockingly aroused by Josh’s strength. To be held down by that sinewy grip while Josh teased him into incoherence was almost enough to end him right there. “Josh,” he gasped. “Josh, please...”
Please, what? Stop? Don’t stop? He didn’t know.
“God, you’re so hot,” Josh breathed into his skin, releasing his wrist. “Finn, you’re so incredible like this.” And then he moved lower, pressing his hot mouth against Finn’s sternum, his stomach. Lower still.
Oh fuck.
Heart beating right out of his chest, Finn levered himself up to watch as Josh nuzzled his hip. He was so fucking beautiful. His hair fell forward, dark lashes fanning out above those fine cheekbones as his lips parted and brushed against the head of Finn’s cock. “Fuck.” Finn clutched at the bedsheets to keep his hips from bucking. “Josh, fuck.”
He smiled, the tip of his tongue darting out to tease the slit already beading with moisture. “That’s the idea,” Josh said. Then, “God, Finn, I want you so bad.”
With that, he took Finn into his mouth, deep and hot and wet.
Finn fell back on the bed with an airless cry, hands pressed over his face, overwhelmed by sensation as Josh sucked and licked, fingers digging into his thighs, skimming up over his belly. The world started to contract, pooling at the base of his spine, his breath stopping in his lungs. “I’m gonna—Josh—”
He pulled off and put a restraining hand around the base of Finn’s cock. “Not yet,” he said with a shaky smile, chest heaving. Christ, he looked as turned on as Finn.
Slowly receding from the edge, Finn nodded and held out his arms. “Come here, then.”
Josh went, crawling into his arms, warm and heavy, kissing him with depth and abandon as Finn rolled him onto his back. His turn.
He took his time, kissing Josh everywhere, reveling in his little gasps and whimpers. He was stunning in the rainy light. It honed the lines of his cheekbones, drew out the pink in his flushed lips, and turned his sparkling eyes dark and hungry. He was stunning, yes, but this was something more—something deeper. Something Finn felt echoing in his chest, in the steady beat of tandem hearts. It was love. Eternity.
Overwhelmed, he pressed a kiss to Josh’s forehead, to the bridge of his nose, to his lips. And Josh’s arms came up around him, hands ranging over his back, holding him close as Finn found their rhythm—Josh’s cock insistent against his hip, his own pressed into the crease of Josh’s thigh as if their bodies were made for this, for each other.
It was dizzyingly slow, but intense in a way Finn had never known. With lips, tongue and hands Josh was taking him apart and remaking him anew, their hearts and souls entwined. It was incredible. Also, terrifying. Because it was obvious—to Finn, it was obvious—that it was incredible because it was Josh.
“Oh God,” Josh gasped, fingers digging into his back. “Oh God, Finn... I’m—” He came with a cry, arching up against Finn’s hip, head thrown back and lips parted. Irresistible.
Finn’s heart billowed like a sail catching the breeze and he came with a sob of joy so intense he could hardly breathe. Dazed, he collapsed boneless into Josh’s arms, his mind spiraling away and Josh’s pounding heart beating against his chest.
“This is it,” Finn murmured later, as they sprawled, tangled and sweaty, in his rumpled bed. The storm had settled in for real, rain rattling on the roof and windows, filling the small space with watery light, and it was all so perfect Finn thought he might die of happiness. “This is it, man. You and me. This is it forever.”
Josh threaded his fingers through Finn’s hair and sighed. “I hope so. I’ve never felt anything like this, Finn. It’s so deep. It feels profound.”
And he was right; it was.
All summer they laid plans. Josh would bail on his Harvard MBA and follow his heart (and Finn) to LA where he’d study music at the Colburn School. Finn would find a job, help support Sean at UCLA, and then follow his dream of trying to make it as an actor.
And they’d be together. Sink or swim, they’d be together. That was all that mattered.
It felt right. Finn knew it did and he didn’t doubt it was going to happen for a second. Not until that afternoon at summer’s end when he found Josh standing ashen-faced in the music room, hands twisting together and eyes stricken. “We have to end it,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Finn, but I can’t go with you. This has to end.”
And so it did. Finn’s whole world ended right there in a firestorm of recrimination, fury and heartache.
Three days later, reforged like steel in the flames, he started to rebuild his life. And there was no place in his brave new world for Joshua Newton.
Chapter Five
Now
Finn hadn’t thought about Josh in years.
That was what he told himself when Sean first called with his stupid plan to buy the fucking Newton house. Finn hadn’t thought about Josh in years, he could barely remember what the guy looked like. He didn’t have any photos to remind him, after all. He’d gotten rid of them all the day after—
The day after.
Frankly, he was kind of embarrassed about the whole incident. Looking back, he put it down to the craziness of that summer right after his dad died, when he’d been on the cusp of a new life and looking for distraction. It hadn’t really meant anything. It was just a youthful infatuation with a rich kid who’d been so strange and compelling that Finn had found himself ensnared.
Mostly, when he thought about it at all, he was glad
Sean never knew. Now that would have made things awkward.
He told himself that on the flight to New York. He even managed to maintain the illusion while Sean showed him around the Newton house—mansion; it was a damned mansion—and into the room where—
Yeah, that room. The one where he’d begged.
And, Christ, if Finn was looking for evidence that he hadn’t been himself that summer then that was it. Finn Callaghan did not beg.
But even that wasn’t enough to shake his firm belief that the whole mess was in the distant past. No, it was only when Sean, utterly oblivious, of course, blithely led him into New Milton’s only coffee shop that the walls came crashing down.
Because Josh was right there.
Finn didn’t have time to retreat or to brace himself or anything.
Josh was just standing there in the middle of the coffee shop, clutching a rag in one hand because apparently he fucking worked there. Joshua Newton waited tables in a fucking coffee shop now? What the actual fuck?
Sean talked—he introduced them—and Josh lifted his uncertain gaze to Finn. For a fleeting moment their eyes half met. But it was too much. Finn turned away, muttered something to Sean, and bolted out the door.
The morning air was cool and he was grateful because his face felt flushed. He’d blame it on the hangover if Sean asked, but it wasn’t that. It was—
“Christ,” he growled as he stalked to the car. He’d never imagined that Josh would still be living here. He was meant to be some kind of corporate CEO by now, not serving coffee in this Podunk town. It didn’t make any sense.
Finn’s hand shook as he squeezed the back of his neck and he told himself it was the shock. He hadn’t expected to see Josh again. Not ever. And so what if he’d been scrutinizing the media circus surrounding Charles Newton’s trial, looking for a glimpse of a familiar face? It wasn’t the same as running into him like this. Not with Josh looking so... So different. So worn down and tired. So reduced.
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