by L. A. Witt
But as strong hands slid up his back and gentle lips moved so tenderly with his, he couldn’t make himself care. Yeah, the road they were on was lined with so many red flags they might as well have been runway lights, but . . .
But he couldn’t help himself.
The end would be hell, but he’d lick those wounds when the time came.
Right now, all he wanted was this.
Chapter 15
After breakfast with their hosts and another couple, Nate and Lucas decided to go sightseeing. Nate had no idea what there was to see, but their hosts offered a few suggestions, including checking out the various lighthouses. With a colorful map and a handful of brochures, he and Lucas got in the car and went out exploring.
Kitty Hawk is situated on a long, narrow stretch of land on the Atlantic. Little more than a sandbar, as near as Nate could tell. No wonder the place had taken such a beating when Hurricane Sandy had blown through.
Today, there wasn’t a hurricane or even a cloud in sight. Nate had been almost certain it would be just their luck to take a trip to a beach town and wind up hiding from torrential rain or a late-spring cold snap. Hadn’t that happened to him on a few getaways in the past?
Not this one, though. The Atlantic had a few small whitecaps in the distance, but it was mostly calm, lapping at the sand while the tall grass fluttered in a soft breeze. He decided they couldn’t have picked a better weekend for this.
They checked out the Wright brothers monument, then drove down through Kill Devil Hills and on into Nags Head, then over to Roanoke Island. The scenery wasn’t anything earth shattering—a lot of beaches, beach houses, and tourist traps, interspersed with the famous lighthouses and peppered with historical markers. Most of the buildings had that weathered, washed-out look that came from being battered by wind, salt, and water, and a few had been abandoned, probably after Sandy. That bitch had made a mess of everything.
The scenery wasn’t exciting, but it was pleasant. Nate had no complaints about a relaxing drive with the occasional stop to peruse a shop or grab some munchies. Maybe not the same as partying on Okinawa or checking out an ancient Greek temple on Sicily, but it seemed like exactly what they both needed.
And really . . . even if this place had been a dump and the weather had been shit, Nate didn’t think he’d complain. Not given his present company. A gorgeous day was just a bonus, because while Lucas checked out the scenery, Nate checked out Lucas.
They were a good sixty miles out of Kitty Hawk now, down in Cape Hatteras, and the black-and-white barber pole of a lighthouse was reflecting in Lucas’s sunglasses. The sunglasses were kind of a necessity—Nate was wearing his usual aviators, of course—but he wished they weren’t, only because he liked Lucas’s eyes. On the other hand, his own sunglasses gave him an opportunity to steal long glances at Lucas without looking like a creeper.
Because he wasn’t a creeper at all. It was just hard to look anywhere but at the cute and sexy tattoo artist standing beside him.
Lately they’d been spending a ton of time in Nate’s house, and when they could, grabbing the odd bite to eat around Virginia Beach. Sometimes Nate joined Lucas for lunch or dinner at Skin Deep or the call center. Sometimes they went out looking for restaurants neither of them had heard of for dinner. Still, it was all familiar territory. The Hampton Roads area had a certain vibe to it, and even in a place they’d never been before, it still felt like Hampton Roads.
They weren’t in Hampton Roads now, and something about seeing Lucas against a brand-new backdrop took Nate’s breath away. They were less than 150 miles from home, but it felt like they were on the other side of the planet. Being here with Lucas . . .
Nate gazed out at the ocean before he was busted staring. In his mind’s eye, he still saw Lucas, though.
Seven billion people on the planet, and you’re riding around with me for the weekend.
How the fuck did that happen?
Lucas gave his elbow a gentle nudge. “Hey. See something?”
Nate shook himself and turned his head. “No. Just . . . looking out at the water. You don’t see the Atlantic this calm very often.” Good save.
Lucas scanned the view and nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty quiet out there today.” He paused. “You ever get seasick when you’re out on a ship?”
“Not for a long time, no.” Nate slid his hands into his pockets just to keep from putting one on the small of Lucas’s back. Touching him was so easy; Nate had to force himself not to. “The waves do not help when you’re drunk, though.”
“They have alcohol on ships?”
“No, but when we come back to the boat after we’ve been on liberty, we’re all usually lucky we can stand.” He laughed, still gazing out at the ocean and struggling not to put an arm around Lucas. “There’s that stereotype about drunken Sailors, but the aviators are the ones who usually have to be carried back to the pier.”
“Yeah?” Lucas turned to him, grinning in Nate’s peripheral vision. “How often were you the one getting carried?”
“Um . . .” Nate tried to look sheepish.
Lucas laughed, elbowing him gently. “And I thought I partied hard.”
“I don’t think I’ve even seen you drink all that much.”
“I don’t do it much anymore. Mostly can’t afford it. But I realized I liked getting laid more than I like getting drunk, and too much booze means . . . well . . .”
Nate chuckled. He turned toward him, fully intending to say something about how whiskey dick could ruin an evening, but Lucas had taken off his sunglasses, and those intense blue eyes were fixed right on him. Nate’s brain was instantly MIA.
How are you so beautiful?
“What?” Lucas asked shyly.
“I . . .” Nate shook himself. “Just lost my train of thought.”
“Happens to the best of us, right?”
“Yeah, it does.”
Especially when I’m standing in front of you.
“So, um . . .” Lucas gestured over his shoulder in the general direction of the car. “Think we should head back up north?”
We can go anywhere.
“Sure.” Nate shrugged. Glancing at his watch, he added, “We can probably get something to eat in Kitty Hawk, unless you’re hungry now.”
“Nah, I’m good for now. If we get hungry, there’s places to stop.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s roll.”
And all the way to the car, Nate still had to fight the temptation to put a hand on Lucas’s back.
* * *
After they’d come back to Kitty Hawk and had a light, leisurely dinner, they left their shoes in the car and wandered down to the beach.
Most of Kitty Hawk was a beach, and it wasn’t that different from some of the beaches in Virginia. Same warm, golden sand. Same relatively flat topography. Same gigantic beach houses that had to be rented out months in advance. Same small seabirds running in and out of the surf, unperturbed by the presence of humans. About the only thing missing was the jet noise.
Which made sense—Virginia Beach wasn’t that far away from the Outer Banks. Some of the sand here may have been in Chesapeake Bay at one point and had been gradually washed down here by the Atlantic currents.
Still, they may as well have been on another planet. Everything that had been stressing Nate out seemed a million miles away. Lucas apparently felt that way, too—he’d slept like the dead last night, and he seemed totally at ease today. In fact, before today, Nate hadn’t noticed how much tension Lucas carried in his brow and his shoulders. Now that he wasn’t so stressed, it showed. His forehead wasn’t so tight. His shoulders were relaxed under his weathered Metallica T-shirt. Strolling down the seemingly endless stretch of shoreline, he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
And for once, Nate didn’t feel like he had one, either.
The sun was slowly sinking into the west, and the day was gradually dimming around them. Nate took off his sunglasses and hooked them in his collar. A minute or so
later, Lucas did the same. Neither of them said much, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Never was.
Some birds came into view up ahead, gliding twenty or thirty feet above the water. As they came closer, Nate realized they were huge. Easily six foot wingspans, if not bigger.
“They have pterodactyls down here or something?” he mused.
“I think they’re pelicans.”
A moment later, the birds passed them by, and sure enough, they had the distinctive profiles of pelicans.
“Damn.” Nate watched them go, then turned around. “I didn’t realize how big those fuckers are.” He paused. “Kind of reminds me of the fruit bats on Okinawa.”
“Okinawa has bats that big?”
“No, no. Not that big. But when you’re driving along and something the size of a cat with wings buzzes the car, it’s kind of disconcerting.”
Lucas laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine. Man, those are big bats.”
“Seriously.”
They fell into companionable silence again, continuing along the straight strip of sand. The whole time, damn if Nate still couldn’t shake that temptation to put an arm around Lucas. It wasn’t a territorial thing. He didn’t feel possessive or anything like that. He just liked how he felt when they were touching.
Nate scanned their surroundings. The beach wasn’t deserted, but it was hardly crowded. Just a scattered handful of people dotting the sand from here to the horizon. No one was terribly close to them, either. He couldn’t even hear any of them.
So, hoping he wasn’t committing some huge faux pas, Nate slipped his hand into Lucas’s.
Lucas glanced down at their hands. Then at him. He didn’t pull away, though. In fact, he smiled that little smile that made Nate’s heart flutter and ran his thumb along the side of Nate’s.
Nate smiled back and, in a weird way, had to fight the urge to burst out laughing. Not because the moment was ridiculous or funny; he just hadn’t felt this good in so long. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d started feeling this way about Lucas, only that he had. And dear God, it was great.
It hadn’t started this weekend, either. Now that he acknowledged them, he realized the feelings had been there for a while. They’d crept in quietly, sneaking past his defenses, assuming he’d even put up any defenses. Had he? Probably not. He hadn’t thought he’d need to, since he hadn’t expected to have feelings for anyone any time soon. Or ever, for that matter. But now that they were here, he didn’t fight them. It was good to feel something for someone that wasn’t hurt, anger, suspicion, and distrust.
He glanced at Lucas, and his breath caught.
How are you real?
He gently freed his hand and wrapped his arm around Lucas’s waist. Then he stopped, and they faced each other. Heart pounding, he brushed a few strands of windblown hair off Lucas’s forehead, and he just stared at him because he loved what the rich, warm light did to Lucas’s blue eyes. The color was more intense like this—more vivid.
This was probably the moment when someone was supposed to say something either profoundly romantic or ridiculously corny. Or both, since the line between those two things seemed pretty blurry to him.
Neither of them said anything, though.
Instead, Lucas slid a hand up into Nate’s hair, pushed himself up onto his toes, and pressed the gentlest, tenderest kiss to his lips.
Nate held him closer and let the kiss go on until it was the only thing stopping him from laughing or breaking down or . . . or something. His body responded to Lucas’s touch, of course—and he wasn’t the only one quickly getting hard—but it was the flurry of emotions that threatened to drop him to his knees right there in the sand.
I didn’t think I’d ever feel this good again.
Who am I kidding—I’ve never felt this before.
What in the world are you doing to me?
Lucas swept his tongue across his lips. “Maybe we should go back.”
“Yeah.” Nate stole another soft kiss. “Maybe we should.”
* * *
They were still dressed as Lucas pulled Nate down onto the bed, but Nate already felt completely naked. Raw, naked, exposed. He wasn’t ready to say the words, and he hadn’t said a thing about what he’d felt on the beach. That moment on the sand had probably called for it, but he hadn’t been able to find the words, so he’d stayed quiet, and so had Lucas, but then there’d been that kiss. That long, sensual kiss right there out in the open, and somehow it had seemed to say it all. No kiss had ever left him feeling like he’d been stripped bare, and he loved it. He wanted to revel in it and get lost in it; it was like Lucas knew, and he knew, and neither of them had had to say a word.
Lucas shivered under him, pressing his hips against Nate’s. “We should really do something about all these clothes.”
“Mmm, yeah,” Nate murmured against Lucas’s neck, “but then I’d have to stop kissing you.”
“I know.” Cool air met Nate’s skin as Lucas tugged up the back of his shirt. “But I want to touch you.” Warm palms on his lower back sent a shiver through Nate, and he sucked in a hiss of breath as he arched into Lucas’s touch.
He lifted himself up and gazed down at the gorgeous, flustered man beneath him, and yeah, doing something about these clothes suddenly seemed like a real good idea. He kissed Lucas gently, murmured, “Clothes off,” and got up.
When they met in the middle of that California king mattress this time, all the clothes were on the floor and forgotten. There was nothing between their bodies now but heat, and suddenly Nate needed to taste every inch of Lucas.
He eased Lucas onto his back and started down his neck, kissing here and flicking his tongue there as he explored smooth, hot skin. The best part was that every time Nate’s lips made contact, Lucas responded like it was the first time they’d ever touched—muscles tensing, breath catching, whispered curses rolling off his tongue. He dragged his nails across Nate’s back. Pressed against him like a cat. Made his name sound so deliciously filthy. Christ, no wonder he was so addictive.
One kiss at a time, Nate worked his way back up Lucas’s chest to his neck and then followed that familiar curve up toward his jaw.
He nipped Lucas’s earlobe, then whispered, “I want to fuck you.”
Lucas’s breath hitched. “Yeah. Condoms are . . . in my bag.”
“Don’t move.” One more kiss—okay, three more—and Nate got up to get the condoms and lube. He didn’t have to go rifling through Lucas’s bag since he’d brought plenty too, and in seconds, he had both and was back on the bed. He quickly put on the condom, but before he could grab the lube, Lucas had already opened it and poured some on his hand.
Grinning, he stroked it onto the condom. “God, I want you.”
Nate slid a hand into Lucas’s hair and kissed him, and Lucas kept right on stroking, even though Nate’s dick was plenty coated in lube. If not for that layer of latex between them, he’d have gotten Nate off in no time. Even with that layer, it wouldn’t take long at this rate, so Nate grabbed Lucas’s wrist.
“Lemme fuck you,” he slurred.
Lucas moaned, then whispered, “How do you want me?”
“Just like you were.” Nate kissed him again. “On your back. So I can see you.”
Lucas bit his lip and squirmed. Then he lay back the way he’d been a moment ago and spread his legs wide. Oh, yeah, this position was perfect. The view was as mouthwatering as ever—tattoos, lean muscles, that thick cock at full attention. And, of course, his gorgeous face. His lips had a little extra fullness from kissing, and his pupils were wide, darkening his intense blue eyes.
I don’t understand how, even if it’s just for right now, you’re all mine.
Nate guided himself in. They both groaned softly as his cock slid into Lucas, and Nate had to fight to stay in control. He usually didn’t care for the way the latex dulled the sensations, but this time, he didn’t mind. He was so overwhelmed, his senses so incredibly overloaded, there was no way he’d have lasted if the
y’d done this bareback. And he wanted to last. He didn’t want to come yet—he wanted to just be. Be here. Be with Lucas. Be inside him.
“Oh God,” Lucas breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as Nate took a long, slow stroke. “That’s amazing.”
“Mmm, the view’s pretty amazing, too.”
Lucas grinned and ran the tip of his tongue along his lips. Opening his eyes, he slid his hands up Nate’s arms. “Not too shabby from down here, either.”
Nate grinned back and picked up speed, thrusting just hard enough to make the gigantic bed creak. Lucas rewarded him with deliciously helpless whimpers as he clawed at the sheets and squirmed under him.
“Ungh. Yeah.” Lucas bit his lip. “M-more.”
Oh hell yeah.
Nate hooked his hands under Lucas’s knees and pushed them back a little, and Lucas gasped, tightening around him as his back arched and his eyes slid closed. The sight of him just kept getting better and better—muscles quivering and tensing, Nate’s dick sliding in and out of him, his own cock letting go of a few drops of precum. His brow was furrowed and his lips formed increasingly loud moans of pleasure and encouragement. If this had been a porno, Nate would’ve had it favorited, saved, and watched at least a hundred times.
But it wasn’t a porno. It was real. It was him and Lucas, sweaty skin and rumpled sheets, and he wouldn’t be coming on his own hand—he’d be coming deep inside this insanely hot man. He still had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky, but he wasn’t about to look this gift horse in the mouth.
Nate let go of Lucas’s knees and came down onto his forearms. As soon as he did that, Lucas threw his arms around him and kissed him. They fucked, and they made out, and they panted, and they egged each other on with gasps and groans until Lucas finally broke the kiss with a throaty cry. He kneaded Nate’s shoulders and arched under him. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”
Say the word, and I’ll never stop.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Nate thrust as hard as this position allowed, and even the condom wasn’t going to keep his orgasm at bay now. Not with Lucas’s fingers digging into his skin, or the curses he kept whispering in Nate’s ear, or the way he’d started rocking his hips to complement Nate’s. Fuck, this was perfect, and Nate growled, “God, yeah” just before he buried his face against Lucas’s neck.
