by Lyn, Viki
Nothing Graham said or did seem rehearsed. He wasn’t a snob, despite his wealth and position. Where was that asshole when Chris needed him? He could barely think straight. Not with Graham’s light touches.
Chris fought against how good those strokes felt. He fought hard, but his body ached for Graham’s affection. His last relationship had been in college, and after the fire, he was in no position to be with anyone. Grief and loneliness became his constant companions, but Graham awoke his desires.
Graham licked the tender spot near Chris’s ear. “You taste good.” He lightly kissed Chris’s cheek, followed by trailing kisses down his neck. Fingers tugged at Chris’s jacket, pulling him closer until their chests touched and Chris found himself trapped. No, not trapped. He wanted this too.
The tip of Graham’s tongue outlined Chris’s ear. Graham’s whisper of “I like you,” was moist and warm.
Chris groaned at the pleasurable sensation. He pressed his hands to Graham’s face. The man had beautiful eyes, the color of sea glass. Graham’s cheeks felt rough from stubble, not scruffy but a shadow of bristles emphasizing a strong jaw. Fuck it, better to take control of the situation and let Graham know he wasn’t a pushover.
Graham’s eyes widened as Chris leaned forward, brushing his lips to Graham’s mouth. Chris lingered there, licking the perfect upper lip and letting his tongue tease the seam until he elicited a groan from Graham.
That was more like it, making the confident man moan.
Chris didn’t go for public displays of affection, but this didn’t stop him from kissing Graham, out in the open for everyone to witness. He ignored the father and mother walking hand-in-hand with their son, the family piling out of the SUV, the older woman walking her Welsh terrier.
Chris placed his palm on Graham’s chest as he kissed him thoroughly, his tongue exploring the inner contours of Graham’s mouth. Graham had shapely lips, firm without being too soft. He tasted sweet with a tang of citrus from the lemonade he’d had at the aquarium. Their bodies produced warmth even in the cold air. Graham was taller, but he didn’t overpower or make Chris feel small.
Graham’s hand glided down Chris’s thigh and squeezed gently, sneaking close to Chris’s crotch. Soon that quick hand would reach his cock, Chris’s erection a testament to how much he wanted Graham.
The kiss lasted for what seemed an eternity. When Chris pushed back, he had to catch his breath. His emotions were a swirling eddy of confusion.
Graham caught Chris’s wrist and pulled him forward.
“The otters…” Chris uttered.
“Otters?” Graham looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“You wanted to see them. You were keen on it.”
“I’m more keen on your lips.”
Chris shimmied out of Graham’s arms, ignoring that playful grin. He kissed Graham’s cheek. “We’re seeing the otters. I need to check it off my list.”
Graham groaned but the grin never left his face. “Shit. You drive a hard bargain.” He grasped Chris’s hand. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
A thrill hopscotched across Chris’s heart. Their lives were miles apart in more than distance, and he would only get hurt in the end, but he had already decided his fate. He’d take the risk and make Pete and Bob proud and maybe, just maybe, he’d have fun in the process.
“We’re still going slow,” Chris gently squeezed Graham’s hand.
9
The next morning, Graham found a full pot of coffee and a mug on the counter. A note stuck to the pot told him he was on his own for breakfast. Graham glanced out the kitchen window and spied Chris making his way down the path with a bunch of daisies sticking out of a gray backpack.
Daisies in a backpack… That was strange. Graham wondered where Chris was off to this early, and with flowers. Was he meeting someone? Somehow that thought made his stomach turn. They had made progress on their relationship yesterday. And while the evening didn’t end with sex, their goodnight kiss had been full of promise.
Graham poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter. Chris wasn’t kidding about going slow. Usually Graham went to bed on the first date, then decided if he wanted more from the guy. He never had to work this hard before, but he enjoyed the pursuit.
Looking out the window, he frowned at the storm clouds blocking out the sun. Not exactly the best weather in which to take a hike. The cliff paths were steep and slippery when wet.
A crack of thunder echoed across the sky. Chris had left the house wearing jean shorts and a T-shirt. That wouldn’t protect him from a rainstorm, not unless he had packed a jacket. If he was at a beach, he could get caught in a rising tide.
Fretting over Chris’s safety, Graham talked himself into following him. What the hell? Why not see where the trail went? It wasn’t as if he had to let Chris see him. Without thinking further about the reason why he should leave Chris in peace, Graham grabbed his sweatshirt, hoping to keep ahead of the rain.
Graham jumped over the thick chain across the rail guard and ignored the No Trespassing sign. He followed the dirt path winding through the forest. As the wind picked up, dry pine needles whirled around his feet. He zipped up his sweatshirt and pulled the hood over his head. The path led down to a desolate horseshoe-shaped beach closed in by sheer cliffs.
Chris sat in a cross-legged position near the tide’s edge. He looked to be in a trance as waves crashed near him. An eerie feeling came over Graham when he realized they were the only two people on the beach. Graham slipped off his tennis shoes and socks and rolled up his jeans. Without thinking much about what he was going to say, he approached the lone figure.
Daisies churned in the tide. A half-empty bottle of whiskey was wedged into the sand. Graham paused. He had no good reason to be here. Except the clouds looked ready to burst, and Chris was oblivious to the threatening swells encroaching the shore.
Graham tapped Chris on his shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”
Chris glared at Graham with moist eyes as he shoved away Graham’s hand. “Fuck’s sakes. What are you doing here?”
At a loss for words, heat spread across Graham’s chest. He fought for an excuse as to why he’d intruded into something that appeared to be very personal.
“This is a private beach, not for guests. Didn’t you see the fucking sign?” Dark circles rimmed Chris’s eyes, and he yanked at his shirt, a sure sign of his agitation. “God, you’re an arrogant bastard. You ignore anything that doesn’t suit you.”
“Hey, I didn’t see the sign, okay.” Graham knew he was in the wrong, but damn, he’d been concerned for Chris’s welfare. “If you want privacy, then put up an electric fence.”
Chris got up and stumbled, and Graham reached to steady him, but Chris’s scowl made him think twice about it.
Let him fall on his face. It’d serve him right for being such an uptight prick.
Chris kicked at a pebble embedded in the wet sand. His back curved in defeat. “Go away.” But there was no bite in his voice.
Graham shook his head. How could he stay mad when Chris was such a sad sack? “Oh, just shut up.” He grasped Chris’s hand. “Don’t say a word.”
With hands held, they watched the last of the daisies sink into the ocean.
“You want to talk about it?” he respectfully lowered his voice. It didn’t take much to figure out this was some kind of memorial. “I noticed you have daisies on your kitchen table.”
Chris let out an audible sigh. “You aren’t going away, are you?”
“You’re right. I have no business being here, but since I am, talk to me.”
Graham had noticed the whiskey bottle. If he left, Chris could pass out and drown in the tide. There was no outlet, only the path leading up to the resort, not that Chris didn’t know the tide table, but that didn’t alleviate Graham’s concern. He would convince Chris they had to leave.
Without looking at Graham, Chris poured whiskey into two shot glasses and placed them in the sand. “I was about to mak
e a toast when you butted in.”
Graham winced, but then he saw a twitch of Chris’s lips. He loved to make this Chris smile for real, because when he did, his eyes lit from within, and the sight made Graham a bit light-headed. For so long, he’d had to be the one making decisions and be in control. He liked this feeling of giddiness when he was around this difficult guy.
Chris lifted the bottle in the air. “Pete, Bob, this is Graham Winter. I asked him to leave, but he’s a stubborn ass. Pete, you would have loved him. Always a sucker for a handsome face.”
Graham suppressed a smile. So Chris thought him good-looking. That was a step in the right direction.
“Love you. Miss you already.”
“That’s a sweet sentiment,” Graham said.
Tears glistened in Chris’s eyes.
Ah damn. Don’t show me that sad face.
After Chris finished off his whiskey, he handed the bottle over to Graham. The alcohol cleared a path down Graham’s constricted passage, even as melancholy welled up inside of him. This ceremony brought up memories of his own father. For all of their differences, Graham missed him. He thought about his father not living past sixty. Did his father regret his choices, spending his life on building a business, fighting down his competition, amassing a fortune to pass down to his only child, only to lose it all because of his gambling habit? He’d missed Graham’s first birthday, first football game, so many firsts that Graham had come to expect a vacant seat next to his mother during the milestones in his life.
Chris tossed the shot glasses into the ocean, turned to Graham, and reached for the bottle. With it firmly in his hand, he plopped back down.
Graham frowned. “You plan to drink it all?”
“I only get stinking drunk once a year. You staying or leaving?”
“So you allow yourself to lose control once a year.” Graham grinned. “Sweet.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m uptight. Have a temper. I can’t help myself.” Chris took another drink of whiskey.
“Whoa, slow down, buddy.” Graham wrestled the bottle from Chris. He rested his hand on Chris’s shoulder and kept it there even when Chris tensed. “I’m sorry I intruded. It was rude of me.”
“Apology accepted. Now give it back.”
Graham dug the bottle into the sand next to his feet. “Instead of drinking it all in the next five minutes, ease up a little. Okay?”
Chris hugged his knees to his chest. A shadow crossed his face from the clouds blocking out the sun. “I can picture them, desperately reaching out for each other in the end. In some perverted way, they got what they wished. Neither of them wanted to be left behind.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah. That’s what I tell myself. But I was so wrapped up in putting the make on a guy, I stayed late at school. If I’d left earlier, I could have saved them.”
“You don’t know that. You might have been killed too.”
Graham scooted closer to Chris, letting their legs touch. The breeze blew Chris’s curls around his face. In the few days he’d known Chris, Graham had already developed the instinct to brush the strands aside.
“From what you’ve said about them, they loved each other very much, and you, even more,” Graham said. “I know this doesn’t make up for your loss, but your dads died together. That’s some comfort. My father died alone.”
Chris held Graham’s hand. “I’m sorry. What about your mother? Is she alive?”
“Yeah. She can be annoying as hell, but she loves me.” Graham let his fingers sort through the sand. He didn’t talk about his childhood much. The past was a lifetime ago and so different from his present situation. “My parents lived separate lives.”
“Not mine. Pete and Bob were inseparable. Think of liberal parents with a temperamental son they tried to loosen up. But they accepted me or at least tried to figure me out. I can’t help”—Chris sniffled—“but miss them.”
“Why do you call your dads Pete and Bob?” Graham had friends who referred to their parents by their first names, but the reasons were because they didn’t think of them as loving parents. Chris obviously cared for his dads.
“They adopted me a couple of years after I came to live with them. By that time I was used to calling them by their first names. Kinda stuck.”
“You’re okay now, right?” Graham said. “I mean, you have friends.”
Chris laughed. The sun peeked out from the clouds, lighting up his face. “Look, don’t cry for me, Argentina. Yes, I have friends.”
Even more beautiful when he smiled, Graham decided Chris deserved the truth. “Nowadays, my friends are interested in my money and position. You called that one straight. I don’t remember the last time I talked to my best friend. Or even if we’re still friends?” His college roommate had been a headstrong girl by the name of Susan Mahoney. They got on well from the moment they met and were inseparable. “Susan’s now a lawyer in Connecticut.”
Chris’s eyes twinkled. “She was your beard?”
“No. We weren’t like that! I was out at college.”
“Wow. Were you? I thought—”
“I know what you must think, but I was going to come out to my parents when my father died. Suddenly I was thrust into a life that wasn’t my own.”
“So you stepped back into the closet?”
“I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Graham.” Chris kissed Graham’s cheek. “But I’m sorry you had go through that alone. It must have been painful.”
Graham took another swig from the bottle and passed it back to Chris. “Just one more, and then we’re out of here. I mean it. The sky is ready to break open.”
“Yes, sir.” Chris gave him a mock salute. “Are you always this bossy?”
He chuckled. “Yes, when I know what I want.”
Chris pursed his lips while tapping his cheek. “Yeah. You are confident.” He craned his neck so he could look at the back of Graham. “And have a nice ass.”
“Ah, thanks, I think.” He would take the compliments. He leaned in for a kiss, but Chris pressed his fingers to Graham’s mouth.
“Whoa, you’d take advantage of my drunken state?”
“I’d say you’re relaxed. Anyway, you like our kisses.”
Chris looked skyward as if he gave the question considerable thought. Then he grinned, letting out a laugh. “Shit, you’re a conceited bastard. Yeah, I like them. A lot. More than a lot.” Chris buried the bottle in the sand. “But you do know that you and me don’t make sense.” Chris stood and swayed.
Graham jumped up and steadied Chris by his arm. “Hey, I got you.” He pressed his fingers to Chris’s mouth, his thumb running along the edge of the full lower lip.
Such a sweet, sexy mouth.
Graham smiled when Chris let out a breath, his eyes widening. Graham wanted more than anything to kiss away Chris’s sadness.
“You’re shivering.” Graham unzipped his sweatshirt. He forced Chris to put it on. Leaning in to help him with the sleeves, Graham hesitated, but his heart wanted to go for it. He drew Chris toward him and was relieved when Chris wrapped his arms around his waist. Their kiss came on fast and hungry.
The bitter wind and the crashing waves receded into the background. Graham focused on the warmth of Chris’s soft, pliable lips. The smoky taste of whiskey on Chris’s breath. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the need for comfort that had Chris clinging to him. Chris wanted him, if the hard bulge in his shorts was any indication.
Graham ran his hand through Chris’s hair. An ache zigzagged across his chest at the grief lingering in those sad eyes.
Graham held back his instinct to clutch Chris in a bear hug. Graham guessed this proud, stubborn man would think he was being hugged out of pity. Instead, he swept back Chris’s hair and kissed the salty taste of his skin.
Chris grabbed at Graham’s shirt, pulling him closer, and didn’t stop there. He cupped Graham’s ass and pushed into him with his hips.
; “Oh fuck. You’re making it difficult to keep my promise.” Graham repeated the motion, stroking that sweet ass. A part of his brain chastised him for taking advantage of Chris in his drunken state, but with their cocks pressed together, he ignored his conscience. He would make sure this was what Chris wanted, but before he knew it, his jeans were unzipped and his briefs halfway down to his knees. Now it was his turn to groan, his chest tight with anticipation.
Not to be outdone, he relieved Chris of his pants and briefs as he explored Chris’s neck with his tongue. He pulled down the collar of Chris’s shirt and licked his collarbone, loving the animalistic noises coming from deep within Chris’s chest.
Their cocks generated intense friction. Chris’s eyes were half closed. His hands were all over Graham, sliding down his back, kneading his ass, pulling them closer, so there was no space between them. When Chris teased the patch of hair above Graham’s erection, Graham’s knees buckled and he took them both down.
Chris’s laughter resonated in Graham. This side of Chris, free of restraint, was sexy and endearing. Graham scrambled on top of Chris, careful not to smother him with his body. Chris stared into Graham’s eyes, his swollen mouth waiting to be kissed.
“You’re beautiful.” Graham choked up.
“Yeah, yeah, pretty words.” Chris reached up on his elbows.
“Take a compliment, for fuck’s sake.”
Leaning over Chris, Graham had better control. He thrust his tongue into that sweet mouth, their kisses sloppy but scorching. Graham gyrated his hips letting the friction do the work. He was close to coming, and from Chris’s flushed face, so was Chris.
Raindrops plopped cold prickles on Graham’s back. He nibbled on Chris’s ear. “The storm god is warning us.”
A strange grin lit Chris’s face. “Fuck Poseidon. Finish me off and give him a show.” Chris followed with a thrust of his pelvis, his hands anchoring Graham’s hips to get better leverage.
The rapid friction of their cocks was enough for Graham. Chris felt…incredible. He loved Chris’s smell and how he moaned without restraint with every thrust. So much for being in control. Chris had set the pace, and he wasn’t slowing down.
