13. Clark
Clark
Iwoke up alone, disappointed that I didn’t have a nipple or a cock to suck on.
And holy shit, wasn’t that a revelation?
I wondered what would’ve happened if I hadn’t met Monica right after my brief dalliance with the rugby guy. Would I have tried it again with another guy? Would it have been better? Would it have been anything like what Beau showed me last night?
I doubted it.
Beau didn’t just disappear without a trace, though. He left a carefully folded note on my pillow.
Hey Beautiful,
Last night was one of the most special nights of my life. I hope we get to do what we talked about. See you at breakfast.
Your cowboy,
Beau.
I tucked his note into my suitcase, under the carefully folded preppy clothes that I’d basically abandoned.
Which is to say that last night felt a little … dangerous.
Of course, Beau had left early. River was in a precarious spot and finding us in bed would not have gone over well. While I was grateful that I didn’t have to explain an overnight visitor, I hated waking up alone.
That wasn’t totally accurate, though.
I hated waking up without Beau.
Scenes from last night flashed in my mind, the things he promised to do to me…
I was instantly hard.
Widening my legs, I spit into my foreskin, playing it over my cock head, imagining it.
Reminded of his mouth, his wonderful tongue at my hole.
So dirty and perfect. The filthy, wet sound of it, I could hear it even above the shower.
Everything about the man turned me on. His sensitive nipples, his furry chest, his muscly thighs, his thick cock.
One hand on my shaft, the other swirling around my used hole, rewinding every cum-stumbling, orgasmic moment.
I couldn’t explain why I was so comfortable with Beau.
Why I had no issue at all with the fact that a man had made me come several times last night.
Why the thought of him made me want to grab some lube and finger-fuck my own ass.
See if I could find that intense spot and make myself come as hard as he had.
Impossible, probably, but a boy could dream.
Hell, if I lived in Denver instead of Chicago, I would jump feet first into seeing where this thing with him could go. I’d certainly let him give me as many orgasms as he was willing to part with. Unfortunately, I had my entire life and business in Chicago. He had his life here.
And suddenly, I wasn’t so hard anymore.
I gave myself a few more strokes, tugging my foreskin over the head, trying to get the feeling back, but I’d gone soft. I let my cock flop down against my balls and tried to remember that I was on vacation. That this was just a bit of well-deserved adult fun.
Ugh.
I slipped into a pair of fresh boxers and one of my new T-shirts and decided to get the day started. A quick scan of my room and the living room told me we’d done a good job making sure we’d left no evidence of our multi-orgasmic experience.
Not sure why the lack of proof made me melancholy.
As I got the coffee going, the front door to the cabin swung open, and my son stepped inside.
“Morning, son.”
“Morning, Dad.”
“You’re good?” I asked, pulling down two mugs from the cabinet.
When he didn’t answer, I turned around. River, a black shadow surrounded by early morning sun, walking stick resting on his shoulder, stood in the middle of the living room with a sort of goofy half-smile on his face.
“Oh, you’re really good,” I joked.
He nodded. He even maintained eye contact. “Miguel is a really special guy, Dad.”
“Yeah?” I said, holding up the carafe. “Wanna tell me about it over coffee?”
He looked down at himself and nodded. “Yeah, lemme shower and get changed first.”
“Go for it.”
River walked out of his room just a few minutes later, rubbing a towel over his head, a funny look on his face.
“You okay, Riv?”
“I’ve never seen you use more than one towel for a shower.”
Oops.
It’s always the tiny details that got you busted. That was a lesson I’d taught him a long time ago when I’d found an empty can of cheap beer in his trash can.
I stared at River, not sure what to say for myself. He cracked the biggest smile I’d seen in months.
“Dad, you should see your face right now. It is the best thing ever.”
I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed that I’d been clocked so hard or overjoyed that my son was smiling. Teasing me, even. Actually, he’d been teasing me since last night, but there was a lightness to it this morning.
“So … Beau?” he asked, grabbing a mug.
I bit my upper lip, trying to figure out how honest I should be.
“Oh my God,” he said, nearly spilling the coffee. “I’m right?”
He looked … thrilled?
I rubbed my hands over my face. “Maybe?”
“Holy shit. Was that your first time with a guy?”
I slowly raised my eyebrows and shoulders at the same time.
River’s eyes were going to pop outta his sockets if he wasn’t careful.
“What the fuck? How am I just now finding this out?”
“I kind of wanted to tell you when you came out, but then it seemed stupid to talk about my one experiment in college when I was in the middle of a divorce with your mom, and I didn’t want to make it about me, so…”
His face went serious. “And then she died. Hella awkward to talk about after that.”
“Super awkward.” I looked up at the wood-beamed ceiling. “Thanks, Monica.”
“That is so fucked up.” River was laughing, though, as he shook his head. “Why isn’t Beau here?”
“He didn’t want to, I don’t know, freak you out? Gross you out?” I dumped some half-and-half into my coffee. “Besides, we’re not here for much longer.”
River’s expression darkened. “I know.”
“Wait, are we both hung up on our vacation flings?” I asked, teasing, even as my heart gave a sad little throb.
“Maybe?” he sighed, forlorn as a Jane Austen heroine. “Miguel is just amazing.”
One of the things I hated as a teenager was having my feelings dismissed just because I was young. The fact that a young relationship didn’t have a high probability of working out didn’t mean that the feelings were any less intense. Or real.
I always promised myself that I would never treat River’s feelings like they weren’t important.
“What’s amazing about him?” I asked, hoping he would tell me.
River sat at the little café table, looking off to the side as he wrapped his hands around his mug. “He reads a lot. And he’s smart. Got his GED, like I did.”
“I heard he had it rough growing up.”
River nodded. “Yeah, but he doesn’t let it keep him down. And he’s really funny.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” I said, quite seriously.
River’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you say that?”
I joined him at the table. “How’re you gonna maintain your grumpy punk exterior when the guy you like has a sense of humor?” I delicately sipped my coffee. “It’s tragic, really.”
River drummed the table for a few seconds, then flipped his hand over, giving me the bird.
“I like the nail polish,” I said, reaching for his hand.
His matte black polish had been replaced by a sparkly gray.
“Me too.”
“Did Miguel do your nails for you?” I asked, still holding his hand.
River’s expression turned dreamy. “He did. After…” His eyes widened. “Scratch that.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “So, what you’re saying is that Miguel’s postcoital-care routine includes manicures.”
River dramatically lay out over the table, thunking his forehead on the glass, barely avoiding sending his coffee mug flying.
“They’re gonna make me Windex that, you know.”
He banged it a few more times for good measure before sending me a humored glare. “I never should’ve said anything.”
“Hey, we’re learning all sorts of new things about each other. Your dad … Not as straight as you thought.” I lifted my hands in a what are you gonna do about it kind of way. “And my son loves sweet men with cool hair and good taste in nail polish.”
“It’s not love,” he said, a little too quickly.
“I know. We’re just here for a few days.” I scrunched my nose. “But we both sound so wistful, we’d be in big trouble if this lasted any longer.”
River nodded. “Big trouble.”
I reached out and squeezed his hand once more. “Then let’s enjoy ourselves as much as we can. I could probably use another hour or so of sleep, but after that, what’s on the schedule?”
“It’s another pool day today,” he said.
“Meaning that you and Miguel are going to sneak off into the woods again?”
“Probably.”
“Don’t terrorize Beau.”
“Why? Because you need him for later on?”
I narrowed my eyes at my son. “He left because he didn’t want to make things awkward. For you. I have no such hangups. I can go there if you want. Open PDA. Long, loving looks. Nicknames.”
River brought his mug to his lips and paused. Shivered. “Please don’t. I couldn’t … No.”
I grinned. “So, you get to enjoy pool time while me and all the parents are taking an advanced horse safety course with Grumpy Jake in advance of the short trail ride and the overnight.”
River snorted into his coffee. “Grumpy Jake?”
“Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Oh, I’m telling everyone.”
“PDA, River.” I popped my brows. “With tongue.”
He shivered again. “You drive a hard bargain.”
I congratulated myself on not answering something along the lines of that’s what Beau said, but River still managed to look horrified.
“Gross, Dad.”
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face said everything.”
I winked, and he dry-heaved as he stood up from the table. “I take it back.”
“Take what back? There are no takebacks.”
“Everything. I don’t thank you for dragging me out here. I don’t thank you for giving me the opportunity to spend quality time with Miguel. In fact, this whole thing with him is probably going to break my heart, and it’ll be your fault.”
Suddenly, all the feel-good ribbing left the room. We stared dolefully at each other.
“Well, son, you and I get to go back to Chicago brokenhearted together.”
“Yay.”