44. Dylan
FORTY-FOUR
DYLAN
I’m handling the situation pretty well. If I had to grade myself, I’d give myself a solid B for effort.
It takes a long walk through the jungle for me to calm down, but when I get back to the beach, I’m marginally more normal, and I’m pretty sure I’ll get better at pretending after a few days’ practice.
I’ve hidden my feelings for him for a long-ass time, so that’s pretty much walking down a well-trodden path.
Having his dick inside me and then pretending that wasn’t at all significant is just an extra complication thrown in my path.
I’ve gotten so good at pretending, so I had to make things more interesting for myself.
That’s the story I’m going with.
Once I get back from my firewood mission, we eat the fish Adrian has caught and talk about soccer, because we’re both trying to keep things running smoothly between us and pretend all is normal.
It’s a good thing, because even with Adrian’s interest in soccer, I’ve never gotten into the sport, so all I really have to do is listen to him speculate about what might be happening with Real Madrid this season and throw in an occasional “Uh-huh” or a “Sure.”
That leaves me plenty of time to be stupid.
A lot of time to fixate on his forearms, and the golden hairs on them. His long fingers and the image of them wrapped around my cock.
My dick begins to grow heavy in my shorts.
Earlier, when I asked him if he was okay, he said he was, and to be fair, he doesn’t look like he’s losing his shit about what happened between us. Too bad I can’t say the same.
My head is a fucking mess, and all I really want is to go back in time and relive the experience of him fucking me. If I had a rewind button, I’d probably just stay in that moment for the rest of my life.
Once was not enough, but I don’t think I’m going to get another time with him.
I mean, first and foremost, it’d be a terrible idea.
But then again…
So, here’s the thing. He can get turned on when he’s naked with me. Sure, it’s because he’s lonely and hasn’t had sex with anybody in over a year and is just horny, but another dick in the equation isn’t a complete turn-off, apparently.
I should probably care more that he’s sort of settling for what he can get when it comes to sex. The fact that I’m pretty sure he’s thinking of somebody else while he’s with me should be more of an issue for me.
It’s not.
I’m exactly this unbelievably pathetic, and I will take whatever I can get.
It’s all so fucking complicated in real life.
But then, this place isn’t really real.
So, maybe?
Oh, good. I’ve lost it.
Whatever.
My point is, if he wants to experiment some more or relieve some pressure or whatever, I will fucking volunteer, and I won’t expect anything.
I feel like a thief. I’ve taken something that isn’t mine and was never supposed to be mine.
The very least I could do is feel guilty.
Freya.
I’m stealing him from her. What kind of absolute shithead wouldn’t feel guilty about that?
Turns out, the kind I am. The kind of selfish motherfucker who can neatly dismiss the idea of what’s right and wrong for his own personal gain.
“Dyl?”
I snap my head up. “Yeah?”
Whatever he was saying just now, I was not paying attention.
“Want to go for a swim before the sun goes down?”
Swim. With Adrian. Almost naked. In close quarters.
Sounds like a recipe for disaster.
“Sure, I’m in.”
We both strip down to our underwear. Just before I straighten myself up, I catch the quick look Adrian sends my way. His eyes sweep up and down. Deliberately.
I try not to read anything into it and swiftly fail.
We walk into the water together, and once we’re deep enough that the water is lapping at our hips, I dive in, making sure to splash Adrian.
“Fucker,” he says when I come up for air.
“Oops.” I grin at him.
I catch the spark of retaliation in his eyes just before he dives in after me.
My grin widens, and I start swimming away.
I lose sight of him in mere seconds, so he manages to sneak up on me.
He grabs my ankle and yanks me under the water, and I splutter and inhale more than my fare share before I push myself to the surface again.
I glare at Adrian and splash water into his face.
It starts a war, and we chase each other for a while, splashing and dunking.
He’s laughing so hard he inhales water and comes up for air coughing loudly.
“Truce,” he says once he manages to breathe again and grins at me.
I grin back and shrug before I push myself onto my back so I’m floating on the surface.
I look at the deep blue sky above our heads and the sun that’s starting to dip toward the horizon. The air isn’t as hot anymore. It’s still warm, but the humid, oppressive kind of heat is gone for the day.
I tilt my head back and feel my whole body relax while the water gently carries me.
“I still can’t get the hang of floating,” Adrian says from somewhere ahead of me. I open one eye and peer at him.
“Too dense?” I ask with an innocent smile.
He sticks his middle finger up.
I put my feet back on the sand.
“Come on. I’ll teach you.”
“You’ve already tried multiple times over the years.”
I shrug. “Not here. The water is saltier here than at home. That might help.”
He looks doubtful, but then he pushes himself onto his back like I did earlier and extends his arms and legs. He goes under in seconds.
I bite back a smile when he emerges and pushes his hair off his face.
“Ta-da,” he says dryly.
“You have to arch your back.”
“ You arch your back.”
“I do. That’s why I float.”
He sends me a mock glare.
“Come here,” I say with a laugh.
I put my hand on his back, and he turns onto his back again.
“You need to relax,” I say. “And put your ears under the water.”
“I can’t hear you when my ears are under the water.”
“Relax,” I say sternly.
“Oh, okay. Done.” He rolls his eyes, but then he pushes his hips up and arches his back. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back a bit.
I keep my hand on the small of his back.
I get to watch him without being too creepy about it because his eyes are closed, so he doesn’t need to know I’m staring. And I do stare. As much as I can. I drink him in. Take my fill.
The waves move his body closer to me.
Then his side is against my chest, and my heart skips a beat.
Did he notice?
If I moved just a bit to the left, and he turned his head, I could kiss him.
I very slowly lower my hand so I’m not touching him anymore, and then he’s floating all on his own.
He looks so peaceful. Water glistens on his chest and droplets run down, gathering in his belly button.
There’s a droplet right above his right nipple, and I don’t think.
I just touch the droplet with the tip of my finger and smear it over his nipple.
It tightens into a bud, and Adrian’s eyes fly open a second before he goes under the water.
I can’t seem to breathe for a second, but then he surfaces. He wipes his palm over his face.
I still can’t breathe.
I swallow hard when he moves.
Toward me.
His chest is suddenly plastered against mine, his face only inches from my face. His lips a hairsbreadth from my lips.
Neither of us says anything, we just move, erasing whatever space is between us.
His lips slam against mine, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His palms go under my ass, and he crushes me against him.
We kiss, surrounded by the ocean, the rays of the setting sun, and nothing and nobody else. Just us two. We kiss like we’re the only two people left in the world. Maybe we are. I don’t care. Just as long as he keeps kissing me.
I flatten my palm on his back and pull him closer. His fingertips graze the band of my underwear and then move beneath it, sliding over the small of my back just above my ass.
We kiss until we’re both breathless.
When he pulls away, he leans his forehead against mine, his panting breaths moving over my kiss-sensitive lips.
“Race you to the shore?” he says hoarsely.
We do it wordlessly. It’s not really a race so much as both of us trying to get on dry land as quickly as possible, and once we do, we both walk toward the life raft.
We stop in front of it and Adrian, holding my gaze, hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down in one go.
Then he stands facing me, naked and hard.
My heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I follow his example, and then we’re both naked.
I take my time looking at him, and he flushes under my probing gaze.
“You look like you want to eat me,” he mutters.
You have no idea.
“Not a bad idea, actually.” I put some lightness in my tone, otherwise I’ll end up scaring him off.
I step closer and slide my palms over his chest. He sucks in a breath, and his nipples harden. I kiss him, and whatever hesitation there might’ve been on either side disappears as soon as our lips touch.
We kiss and tumble down on the sand with me landing on top of him. I nuzzle his jaw and kiss my way down to his chest.
He draws in a shaky breath when I flick my tongue over his nipple, and his fingers find their way into my hair again. I prod his nipple with the tip of my tongue before I wrap my lips around it and suck.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters.
I expect him to close his eyes, but when I glance up, I find him watching me greedily. His cock is hard and pulsing, trapped between our bodies.
I put my hands on his hips and kiss my way down his body.
Dipping my tongue into his bellybutton. Moving lower.
His hands tighten in my hair, and I stay put with the tip of his cock just below my chin and keep licking him.
His skin is salty from the sea. I want to taste every inch.
I kiss his flanks and his abdomen, trace the lines of his body with the tip of my tongue.
The closer I get to his cock, the harsher his breathing becomes, until he’s pushing my head lower and not being gentle about it.
I groan at the sensation, and my cock jerks.
“Tell me what you’re feeling.” My voice is hoarse.