by Liz Crowe
“Yes, it’s fine,” Adem croaked. “I can speak English, Turkish or French, if you prefer.”
“Oh, I’ll stick to English, thanks.”
The man’s soft blue dress shirt fit his torso like a glove. His jeans were worn, nice and tight, cupping his ass perfectly. Adem gulped. The memory of that cock he’d watched and dreamed about, encased in the denim within his reach, nearly overpowered him.
“Good, good.” Adem ran a hand through his long hair. Damn, I should have gotten it cut. This man probably preferred his dates a bit less…shaggy. “So, we can board if you like.” He gestured toward the boat, unsure what else to say.
The blond god spoke. “I’m Caleb, by the way. Caleb Blessing.”
Adem blushed. “Oh, sorry. Let’s start over.” He turned and stuck out his hand again. “I’m Adem. Adem Broussard.”
He watched as Caleb clenched his jaw.
“I know. I remember you.”
“Oh, well, then….” Adem didn’t understand the emotions flitting over the tall man’s face. When Caleb pulled his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes, Adem would swear his fingers came away wet. He resisted the extreme urge to pull him into an embrace. Putting his hands in his pockets instead, he stood, letting the silence swirl around them.
“Well, let’s go, shall we?” the gorgeous, obviously unhappy man snapped, as he stomped toward the boat.
Adem’s gut clenched. This was not turning out like he’d hoped. Not at all.
***
Caleb took the few steps toward the boat. His feet dragged like lead weights. Sweat poured down his face, yet he was ice cold. He closed his eyes once before stepping over the side, trying to conjure Tarkan once more, but the image had disappeared. All he could see now was the slim Adem, his long hair flowing over his shoulders, his green eyes full of concern. When he stumbled once, a hand clutched his elbow.
“Thanks,” he muttered, unwilling to look at the smaller man, not ready to admit that his heart had sped up at the sight and memory of him.
“The, ah, bedroom….”Adem pointed down into the hull. “But I guess you….”
Caleb held down the groan that nearly escaped his lips. How could he get out of this? No way he could go into that bedroom. Adem’s body, so near his he could smell his light cologne, mixed with a bit of sea air and, oddly, olive oil made him warm all over. Made him forget for a split second the agony in his chest at the sight of the last bedroom where he’d slept with Tarkan. Caleb curled his hand around the suitcase handle in an effort not to drop it and yank the young man into his arms.
“Stop,” Adem said and put his hand over Caleb’s. “Let me take it. You stay up here. I’ll bring us a drink. Beer, right?”
He nodded, paralyzed with a combination of vivid memories and an adrenaline rush of sheer lust. He swallowed and watched Adem’s slim hips as he deposited his luggage and walked back up the steps. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a tight body free of hair. He had an easy grace about him, comfortable in his light brown skin. And his face was like something from central casting if the order called for exotic, vaguely ethnic, man/boy, perfect for…oh, hell. He sat heavily into a deck chair before the other man returned.
Adem put a hand on his shoulder, making Caleb’s entire body shiver in the heat of the day. His cock stirred and he covered it with the tail of his wrinkled, button down shirt.
“I’ll be right back. Are you hungry?”
“Uh, sure, fine. Whatever.” Caleb winced at the brusque sound of his own voice. Adem merely smiled, which made his amazing face light up. It was contagious and Caleb felt his mouth stretch into a grin.
“This is weird, huh?”
Caleb’s smile turned rueful. “You have no idea.” He spent a few minutes appreciating Adem’s retreating backside then the front view as he returned with a tray piled with cheeses, fruit, fresh bread, and a couple of sweaty bottles of Efes beer, from Turkey’s only real brewery. The crisp yellow lager soothed Caleb’s throat, and they sat in silence a moment.
Adem moved his chair closer to Caleb’s, startling him and bringing more movement under his zipper. God, but this guy was hot. What was it about Turkish men? He rubbed his eyes. I can’t do this. The hand on his knee made him flinch, but Adem kept it there and stared at him. The look on his face was searching and honest.
“I remember you, too, you know.” Caleb nodded, unable to formulate coherent words, pinned by the intensity of Adem’s gaze. “Where is…Tarkan, wasn’t it?”
Caleb gulped down the last of his beer. “Dead.”
Adem pulled back, as if stunned by Caleb’s flat declaration. “Oh, I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should know.” Caleb narrowed his eyes and watched complex emotions play over his date’s face. He didn’t require a ton of sympathy, not right now and hoped the man would sense it.
Adem took a piece of cheese from the tray and chewed it. Caleb swallowed hard at the sight of his lips, the tip of his tongue as he put the morsel inside. “I’m sorry,” the younger man said, simply. His head tilted as he observed Caleb observing him.
“Yeah, lots of people are.” Caleb set the beer down. A man appeared from nowhere and replaced it. Caleb smiled and looked up at Adem. “That was you, two years ago.”
Adem shrugged. “Yes. I worked these boats for eight years actually. Met a lot of people, mostly men.” He leaned in and put his elbows on his bare knees. Caleb’s eyes were drawn to the light dusting of dark hair on his calves. He was shocked when the man grabbed both of his hands across the small table. “I remember you, and him, very well. You were really nice to be around, would actually talk to me and not treat me like a piece of furniture.” Caleb’s whole body zinged at the touch of Adem’s lips to first one hand, then the other. “I hope this trip will help you heal.”
He took a deep breath then released him. Caleb almost lost it, nearly giving into the chemical attraction between them, but he sat back and sipped the fresh beer, allowing it to calm his rattled nerves. “Thanks, Adem. I…don’t know what kind of company I’ll be but….” He shrugged. Adem shot him an infectious grin again.
“Well, let’s get going anyway, shall we?” He shouted a few commands in Turkish and the dockworkers cast off, giving the boat a shove as the motor revved. Caleb felt the soft wind on his face and smelled the familiar combination of salt water, motor oil and faint hint of something exotic, exactly how he remembered Turkey. He sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes wander over the young man sitting across from him. His date. All his. His heart took a leap, breaking free for the first time in two years from its slow, barely-getting-by rhythm.
This could be scary, but maybe this is what I need. As the hot air brushed over his face, he closed his eyes against the fading smile of the only man he’d ever loved.
***
They unfurled the sails, and the boat captain barked orders at them. Caleb did his level best to remember and keep up, but finally Adem laughed and told him to sit as he and the boat staff handle it all. He smiled at the relief on the tall man’s face. Attending to the sails, he shouted in victory when the wind finally caught them, filling them and pulling the boat southward. He turned to see how Caleb fared and was taken aback by the look of frank desire on the American’s face. He shivered, but stepped away.
This man had some healing to do still. Adem was not sure this was the right way to go about it. Although his cock was certainly eager to give it a try. He willed himself under control. They sailed for nearly two hours, sitting at arm’s length, talking about how he’d opened the restaurant of his dreams.
At one point, he felt something brush the hand he’d draped over the back of the long bench they shared. Glancing up, he saw Caleb’s hand barely touching his skin. He raised an eyebrow. Caleb actually blushed and removed it. Adem looked up to the bright blue sky and sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.
He knew a light, careful tread was required with the man, but damned if he fought every second not to launch himself at hi
m, wrap his body around Caleb’s, soothe him with his lips and tongue. Ahhh, shit. He rose, unable to control himself, and walked away, using the excuse of wanting to check on the ingredients for their dinner. He did not hide the bulge under his shorts though. What was the point of that?
Satisfied after about thirty minutes that he could walk around without grabbing himself, and that the fresh fish he’d requested was indeed seasoning in the block of salt, he returned. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his date, the blond Adonis, stripped to a pair of very American-like surf shorts and nothing else. He was kneeling on the starboard bench, hands on his hips. The man’s broad shoulders were like something Adem would imagine on a shining Greek god—strong, the muscles under them rippling and subtle. His thick hair curled a bit at the ends. Adem clenched his fists in an effort to not run over, grab him, and lick the skin of his neck. Run his hands over the man’s tight ass. Dear Lord, but he was a vision.
He cleared his throat and Caleb turned. Adem was not really shocked to see tears on his face. His heart broke, remembering how much love those two seemed to share on this very boat. He took three long steps across the shiny wooden deck and let his body do the talking. Caleb’s skin tasted salty from the sea spray, and his torso was strong but somehow fragile in Adem’s embrace. He held him, their two bodies fitting together, molding into one.
Adem ran a hand down Caleb’s sweat-slicked back, stopping shy of his luscious ass. He couldn’t rush it, he knew. But Caleb remained still in his embrace. He put his arms around him, lay his head on Adem’s shoulder for a moment, before looking up and making him weak in the knees with his bright blue stare.
“I’m damaged goods,” he whispered. “I don’t know what you want out of this, but….”
Adem put a finger on Caleb’s full, kissable lips. “Shhh…enough. Don’t think too hard. Just, relax.” He made a decision then, one he hoped neither of them would regret. But no matter how much his body wanted to go further, no matter how painfully hard his cock was, no matter the equal reaction under Caleb’s shorts, he pulled away. He ran a finger down Caleb’s strong, stubble-rough jaw. “Why don’t you have another beer, hmm?”
Caleb nodded and sat, putting his bare feet up on the cushioned bench. Adem smiled. He’d done the right thing. They had time. Rushing into this wouldn’t be good for either of them.
Chapter Five
Caleb laughed so hard he got the hiccups at Adem’s adept descriptions of the many tourist types who graced his restaurant. The bossy, arrogant Germans; snooty, obnoxious French; wide-eyed, usually overweight Americans; wealthy Russian mobsters with a girlfriend on each arm; and his personal favorite, the English with their demands for “chips and tea.” He watched as the slim, lovely man sliced their fish out of the huge block of salt where it had essentially “cooked” for the day and sipped his crisp, Italian white wine.
He’d fallen asleep on the large bench in the bow after their first embrace, dreams of the sea, and of slender men with open, loving faces had eased his way. When he awoke, feeling more rested than he had in ages, his feet had been in Adem’s lap and the young man had been reading a French newspaper. Caleb had lain still a moment, taking him in, the casual hand he had resting on Caleb’s calf comforting and somehow familiar. They had docked in Bodrum, a classic Turkish tourist coast town with nightclubs, bed and breakfasts, and no end of carpet and silver merchants crowding the street.
Part of him was glad that Adem had backed away earlier, but after a good sleep, he acknowledged he would have happily thrown the kid down and fucked him hard, right then, if only to take his edge off. But he had an idea there was more happening here and needed time to absorb it. And he was that, a kid. Easily ten if not more years younger than Caleb. He had stared up at the darkening blue sky and thought of Elle and her constant arguments against her own relationship with Emre at first. She had been forty when they met, Emre twenty-five. They had worked out fine, mainly, Caleb reflected, because both Emre and his brother were old souls. He sighed at the fleeting thought of Tarkan and stretched. Adem had glanced up from his paper and smiled, patted Caleb’s leg and stood.
“C’mon, sleeping beauty, let’s hit the shops.”
Caleb had placed a chaste peck on the man’s soft cheek, before changing into linen shorts that nearly matched Adem’s. He pulled a polo shirt over his head and followed him off the boat, up to the city center. They’d provisioned for the next two days, planning to stay off shore. Caleb felt himself slipping back into that comfortable place he had occupied for so many years in Turkey as Adem bargained, purchased, and pointed out the sights.
“You know,” Caleb said when they were back on the boat. They sat at the deck table overlooking the azure sea. “I never thought I’d come back here. But now I remember why I loved it so much.” He raised his glass to Adem who did the same. “To Turkey.”
“To us,” Adem had whispered, making Caleb shiver.
Adem leaned back and sipped his wine. Caleb tried not to stare, but finally gave up the fight.
“Tell me what happened.” The young man’s voice was low. Caleb shut his eyes and relived the nightmare, sad, but somehow relieved to be telling it.
By the time he’d finished the story, Adem’s gaze was watery, but Caleb’s vision was clear for a change. He realized he’d never actually told anyone the real story of how the thing had happened so quickly, how they all had to rush back to Turkey to give Tarkan’s meager remains the proper swift burial as per custom. It had been a God awful blur, but Caleb suddenly remembered details with more clarity now that he was describing events to Adem.
“I lost my parents too, right about the same time. It’s how I got the money to leave this”—he waved at the boat—“and open The Perfect Table.” Caleb nodded, encouraging him. “Traffic accident in the French countryside, big lorry, small car, too much wine.”
Caleb sighed and spooned up a bit of rich chocolate mousse. He leaned over the table and put the morsel near Adem’s lips. Never taking his eyes from Caleb’s, Adem took the bite and swallowed. He returned the favor, taking a minute to dredge one of the fat strawberries on the dish in front of them through his mousse before holding it to Caleb’s mouth.
Caleb darted his tongue out, licked it, took a small bite then ate the whole thing, chewing, relishing the rich bitter chocolate and the burst of berry in his mouth. He melted into Adem’s smile again, then with resolve, stood and took the slender man’s hand. Once standing together, he ran a finger down his smooth cheek and pulled his long hair free of its leather tie, letting it flow down his shoulders like a shimmering ebony waterfall. His breath stuttered at the sheer beauty of this man in his arms before leaning down and slanting his lips over Adem’s.
The kiss was tentative at first. Caleb could taste chocolate, with traces of wine, but the deep flavor of Adem was that of Turkey itself, rich, spicy, salty and delicious. He held the back of Adem’s neck, threading his fingers in the other man’s hair, and probed deeper with his tongue, sweeping inside his mouth, making room for him to do the same. He moaned when Adem wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close, grinding his erection against Caleb’s.
Their polo shirts ended up on the boat deck in seconds. Caleb ran his hands over every inch of Adem’s firm torso, shoulders, back and down to his ass, clutching it desperately as their kiss went even deeper, teeth clicking together in urgency. When he felt Adem’s hand on his cock, he let the man slip the shorts off his hips, leaving him exposed to the warm air. They were docked far from shore. The candlelight flickered and threw their shadows against the fabric of a privacy screen. The boat rocked as the scents of the sea enveloped him, soothed the anger and sadness he’d held inside for so long.
Adem tore his lips from Caleb’s and traced a wet line with his tongue down his neck. Caleb gasped and fisted his hands back in the man’s hair when he leaned in and took Caleb’s hard nipple in his mouth, biting down, sucking hard. Caleb yanked Adem back up, needing his lips again, wanting to taste him,
feel their mouth’s connection more than anything. He let the young man walk him backward to the large bench where he’d napped earlier. He sat and watched as Adem crouched down between his knees, his tongue resuming its pleasant trip down Caleb’s torso, swiping at his well-defined abs, dipping into his bellybutton.
The tip of his leaking cock bumped against the man’s chin. He moaned and lifted his hips.
“Dear God, you are….” His voice deepened when Adem finally wrapped his lips around Caleb’s shaft. Caleb laid his head back on the cushions and let the man flick at the slit that he knew was covered in the pre-cum. He put both hands on Adem’s shoulders and gripped his flesh, shoving his cock up into his waiting mouth.
When he felt himself against the back of Adem’s throat, he stopped. The kneeling man gripped a hand around his length and pulled his lips off. The deep emerald eyes staring at Caleb were dark with lust. The sight of his lips, swollen from kisses and from his recent efforts made Caleb groan. Adem grinned and kept up his hand’s pressure, up and down, across the head, all the way back down to cup his balls. Caleb started to lean in, to make some sort of reciprocal effort, but Adem pushed him down.
“No, I want this. You enjoy.”
Caleb smiled and put his head back against the pillows, propping his arms up on the back of the bench. When Adem pressed his lips over his swollen head again, he went all the way down, swallowing him, making him gasp and pump his hips. A finger started easing down, under his balls, rubbing the smooth skin there.
“Oh shit, that’s gonna….” Caleb closed his eyes. In the past year or so of random, desperate hook ups, he’d always pictured Tarkan’s face at that moment. Wanted to see his beloved’s eyes when he came. But now, it was Adem—his strong, exotic features, deep green eyes, taut body that made Caleb grunt and release into Adem’s throat. He grabbed the man’s hair, fucked his mouth hard, as the climax nearly blinded him with its intensity.
