12. CAROLINA BEACH, NORTH CAROLINA
CAROLINA BEACH, NORTH CAROLINA
Now playing: Holiday - Green Day
The salty air turned cool as the sun began its slow, bleeding descent into the Atlantic, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold.
We were in the middle of the “Donovan-Reed Packing War,” which involved a lot of shouting, sandy towels being shaken into the wind, and Evan trying to convince everyone he was too spiritually exhausted to carry the cooler back to the SUV.
“I’m telling you, the boardwalk fireworks are legendary.
” Silas was hauling a beach chair over his shoulder.
He looked energized, his skin glowing with that post-sun bronze that made him look like he belonged on a postcard.
“If we stick around for another hour, they’ll start. It’s worth the wait, I promise.”
“I don’t care about explosions in the sky, Silas! I care about the explosion of my stomach due to hunger,” Sarah groaned, leaning dramatically against Heather. “Cal, tell your husband-to-be I am wasting away. I’m basically a skeleton.”
“Yeah, a skeleton with a very loud mouth,” I countered, though my own stomach gave a rumble in agreement. “Lena? You good for another hour?”
“If there’s fries involved, I can survive anything. But please, can we go somewhere that doesn’t involve more sand? I think I have a small dune's worth in my shoes,” she said as she poured a pile onto the boardwalk.
“Hurricanes.” Josie waved her hand toward the boardwalk. “It’s close, the food is actually decent, and more importantly, they’ll let us in. Cadence and I have been there a dozen times. It’s the only bar on the strip that doesn’t act like eighteen-year-olds are a plague.”
“I’m always in when there’s alcohol, and I’m not required to perform physical labor.” Evan chimed in.
We funneled toward the boardwalk, the wood planks thrumming under our feet. The evening crowd thickened as tourists crawled out of their hotels in search of food. Silas led the way toward the public changing stalls, his nose crinkling as we got closer to the weathered structure.
“God, I forgot how much I hate these things,” he muttered, suspiciously eyeing the stalls. “They may have remodeled them a few years ago, but when I was a kid, these places were a literal biohazard. Pretty sure I caught a cold just looking at the door once.”
“Oh hush, Reed.” Evan slapped Silas on the back. “I’m sure your immune system can handle a little public-beach grime. Or are you afraid your golden-boy glow will dim if you touch a damp wall?”
“It’s not the glow I’m worried about. It’s hepatitis.”
“Just get in the stall, Silas. I’ll protect you from the germs.” I laughed, nudging him forward.
We headed for the far stall, the air thick with damp wood that never saw the sun. It was cramped, barely enough room for one grown man, let alone two with shoulders as broad as ours.Silas still stood in the center, trying to avoid touching anything, with the grace of a cat in a bathtub.
It didn’t bother me though. I had a plan.
I’d been sitting on a very specific kind of energy since the drive over, and seeing him in the sun all day, carefree and full of light, had only made the fire under my skin burn hotter.
The second the lock clicked into place, I was in his space.
I didn’t give him time to think or complain, just shoved him against the wall with my hands hitting the wood on either side of his head.
He gasped, his eyes flying wide open as I crowded him. “Cal? What are you—”
I didn’t let him finish. My mouth crashed against his as his hands flew to my chest, fingers instantly fisting into my shirt to pull me closer. He swallowed my groan as my tongue slid against his, devouring him with a ferocity that made my head spin.
I trailed a path of love bites and bruising kisses down his jawline, my breath hot against his skin. When I reached his ear, I nipped at the lobe and leaned in close; his frantic heartbeat pattering against my own chest.
“Can you keep quiet, baby?” I whispered, “Because I’m not sure I can.”
I felt him shudder in a violent tremor that went through his entire frame while he nodded. A sharp, expectant, and dangerous smirk flashed across his lips.
“Cal…” he purred.
That had me moving with purpose. My hand dropped to the waistband of his still-damp swim trunks, my fingers working the drawstring knot with practiced speed. When it finally gave way, I yanked them down his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles.
Even in the cramped space, I dropped to my knees, my tattooed arms brushing against the wood. Silas let out a sharp inhale as his head fell back against the wall with a soft thud.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispered, his voice trembling as his eyes locked on me.
I looked up at him, my dark hair a mess, and a devious smirk playing on my lips. Already half hard, his cock twitched against my lower lip as I dragged it along the underside of him. “You know exactly what I’m doing, husband.”
Moving slowly, I leaned in and flicked my tongue against his tip, watching him jump. A low, strangled sound escaped his throat, and he immediately brought his hand up, biting down on his knuckles to stifle the noise.
I took him in all at once, the heat of my mouth enveloping him as my tongue swirled to a rhythm I knew drove him insane. It was relentless, torturing. But I wanted to hear him struggle, to feel the way his body fought to stay silent while I dismantled him inch by inch.
Only a few minutes had passed, and Silas was already a mess.
His eyes were shut tight, his brow furrowed in concentration as he bit his hand so hard I was worried he’d draw blood.
My hands gripped his thighs, my thumbs digging into his muscle to anchor him as I picked up the pace.
The sound of the boardwalk outside, the muffled music, the laughter, the distant crashing waves, it all felt a million miles away.
In here, it was just the heat of his skin and the wet, rhythmic sound of my mouth bringing him pleasure.
When his muscles started to cord and tension rippled through his legs, I knew he was close. I popped off him, resting the head of his cock against my bottom lip to look up at him, mouth wide, eyes heated.
“Eyes on me, Si. You close them and I stop.”
His hips twitched when he opened his eyes, all the color of his irises missing. My hand wrapped around his base, languidly stroking as my thumb rubbed circles over his crown. My mouth remained inches away, waiting, wanting.
“Give it to me, Si,” I commanded softly. My mouth remained inches away, waiting, wanting. “Come right here and let me taste every fucking drop.”
His break was beautiful. My man let out a muffled, shaking groan against his hand, and his hips snapped forward as his orgasm crested.
I watched his face contort and unravel as drop after drop of his cum spilled into my mouth.
Swallowing every drop, I moved slowly, tantalizingly, making sure he saw exactly how much I wanted him.
When the last fight in his muscles gave up, he slumped against the wall. His breathing reduced to a series of jagged, shallow gasps.
“Jesus Christ, Cal,” he whispered, finally pulling his hand away from his mouth. His knuckles were red and damp, bite marks strewn across the bones. “Are you trying to kill me? We have to go to dinner, and I can’t even remember my middle name right now.”
“It’s okay, I’ll remember it for you.”
Hurricanes was exactly what you’d expect from a beach bar: dim lighting, neon beer signs that hummed with age, and the smell of fried food and cheap tequila. It was packed, the air vibrating with the sound of a jukebox playing some country-rock anthem.
We managed to snag a high-top table near the dartboards. Silas and I stood together, talking to April and Sarah, while the rest of the herd engaged in a fiercely competitive game of darts.
“I’m telling you, April, the wedding has to be in the fall,” Sarah proposed while gesturing wildly with a fry. “Philly in October is peak-vibes. Plus, the lighting for the photos? Incredible.”
“I don’t care about lighting, I care about the guest list,” April countered, her bossy-big-sister energy in full effect. “If Cal doesn’t invite the cousins from Scranton, Aunt Marie will never let him hear the end of it.”
I groaned, leaning my elbows on the table. “Can we talk about literally anything else? We’ve been engaged for like twenty hours. My brain hasn’t even processed the silver on my finger yet, and you’re already booking caterers.”
“It’s a Donovan wedding, Cal. If you don’t start now, you’ll end up getting married in a Wawa parking lot with a priest who’s also a part-time DJ,” Sarah teased, then immediately went back to discussing floral arrangements and dessert options.
My sisters eventually drifted toward the bar to order another round, leaving Silas and me alone. The neon light of a Budweiser sign cast a red glow over Silas’s face as we gazed upon our families.
He leaned in close to me, dropping his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “You know, looking at them, seeing your sisters and my family all together like this… It feels real. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like we’re trying to hide from the world.”
I looked at him, admiring the way the light caught the gold in his eyes. How he looked happy, peaceful. It took everything in me to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into a kiss right in the middle of the bar. “It is real, Si. As real as it gets.”
It was a while later, laughing at Evan’s nonsense of missing the dartboard entirely and hitting the wall, when the energy in the air shifted. I knew the feeling well. It was the same one we got right before a match started, a prickle on the back of your neck that says someone is watching.