22. Chapter 22
Beau
Stunner
Translation: Someone who’s really, really hot
Usage: To describe someone who stops you in your tracks
Can’t believe I got up the gumption to kiss him, and I’m even more surprised he kissed me back. And the way he kissed me, with so much hunger and passion… Just thinking about it sends blood rushing between my legs again.
We’re warming up in the car before our drive, neither of us saying much. Every so often one of us glances at the other and quickly looks away again, shooting small, almost timid smiles, and I swear I can still taste him.
I tap the gas, coaxing the engine to warm up, then look at Torin. “Home?”
“Aye,” he says. “Home.”
“Do you want to put on some music?” I ask, handing over my phone before pulling out of the lot.
“Sure.” He pulls up the music app and scrolls. Before long, a soft instrumental holiday melody comes over the speakers, perfect for winding down a cold December night.
He puts my phone in its holder, and my hand shoots out and grabs his before I realize what I’m doing.
But he just laces his fingers through mine and pulls my hand into his lap, his thumb brushing over my knuckles this time.
I take my eyes from the road for a second and smile over at him, and he smiles back, and it’s a beautiful feeling.
Our hands remain tangled as I drive, his pulse beating faintly where our palms meet.
I know he’s as nervous as I am about what’s happening between us.
I took a risk, asking if I could kiss him, and now he’s letting me know it was a risk worth taking.
The heater is on full blast, but I’m warm in a completely different way.
The road slips quietly beneath the tires while the headlights carve a pale tunnel through the night. Every time I glance over at Torin, he’s already looking at me, the corners of his mouth lifting before he turns away. A few miles later, a gentle weight settles against my shoulder.
When I look over, Torin’s eyes are closed, his breathing slow and easy.
He really can fall asleep anywhere.
When we get back to the farm, I leave the engine idling and sit there in the dim glow of the dashboard light.
I study his face, the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth that looks a little stubborn, even in sleep.
Beautiful. The word slips through my mind again, just as certain as it was earlier.
And the way I want him. God, the way I want him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.
I’ve never been in a long-term relationship with a man, so I don’t know what to do next, but surely he feels this, too, whatever this thing is growing between us. It can’t just be me.
Not wanting to startle him after such a perfect night, I gently shake the arm he’s using as a pillow and whisper his name. No response, just deep, even breaths.
“Torin,” I say again softly, and his eyes flutter open.
Those gorgeous green eyes find mine, and somehow my feelings for him grow even stronger.
“We’re home,” I whisper.
He tilts his head up with a yawn, using one hand to cover his mouth, the other still holding mine.
“Come on, sleepy boy,” I say, kissing him on the forehead. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He nods and yawns again as I reluctantly extract my hand from his, turn off the ignition, and press the button to release his seat belt. A few seconds later, he’s upright, running a hand through his hair, giving me a soft smile.
“You shower first and let me know when you’re done,” he says once we’re inside.
“Okay,” I say. I grab my toiletry case from my room and head to our shared bathroom. The shower is brief, more a rinse than anything, and I dry myself quickly, texting him that I’m done.
The bathroom door opens just as the thought crosses my mind: I left my pajamas in my room.
Torin stops in the doorway. I’m standing there in nothing but a towel.
His eyes consume every bit of me, and my heart kicks hard against my ribs. He’s never seen me shirtless before, and I think he’s about to tell me he’ll come back when I’m decent, but then he cracks a lopsided grin. “Do you even lift, bro?”
I bark out a laugh. “I’m lifting forks and weights every day, brochacho.”
He rolls his eyes and enters the room, his shoulder grazing my bare chest as he passes. The contact sends a quiet jolt through me, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
I run through my nighttime routine at the sink while Torin turns the shower back on and brushes his teeth. I’m pleased to see him openly checking out my body in the mirror, a stark contrast from just a few nights ago when he avoided looking at me altogether.
He spits into the sink, rinses, and catches my reflection as I smooth moisturizer across my neck and face.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “It just seems like it takes a lot of work to be pretty.”
“Whereas you look that good without all this crap,” I say, color immediately rising in his cheeks. Even after all that happened tonight, he still doesn’t realize just how hot I think he is.
I step toward him. He stands firm as we come toe-to-toe, the warm air from the shower already fogging the mirror behind him.
His breath catches as my hands go to his waist and pull him toward me.
Then his hands are on my bare chest, and I can only hope the towel barely hanging onto my hips stays up with the things that are happening below my waistline.
With one hand on his neck, I lean forward and kiss him again.
I hold him close, my mouth lingering against his like I’m still proving to both of us that this is real.
He moans, almost a whimper, and the heat in the bathroom spikes.
It takes everything in me to break our contact.
When I do, he puts his forehead to mine, and we stand there for another minute holding each other.
He gives me another kiss, then one more, softer this time, and steps back. My hands catch the towel just in time to keep it wrapped around me. This feels like my cue.
I head for the door while I still have the self-discipline to leave. I turn back to close it, and the smoldering look in his eyes sends a fresh wave of heat straight through me.
“Goodnight, Beau,” he says.
“Goodnight, Torin.”
I close the door and head to my room. I have to adjust myself more than usual to get comfortable in my boxers, the feel of Torin against me still strong in my mind.
I lie back against the cool sheets and listen to the shower running, my heartbeat skyrocketing, as I let my imagination run wild. Torin standing under the spray. Water cascading down his shoulders, over his chest. His head tipped back, eyes closed, dark hair damp at his temples.
I reach into my bag and pull out a small bottle of lube, needing relief.
Imagining him slipping into my room, the mattress dipping as he climbs into bed beside me, his mouth finding mine, his body pressed against me, heat and skin, as we…
my free hand grips the sheets, the tension coiling higher.
It doesn’t take long for me to erupt, and sheer force of will is all that keeps me from shouting as I fly over the edge.
I lie there for a moment catching my breath, the cool air brushing over my skin, staring up at the ceiling while the shower continues to run on the other side of the wall.
The fantasy fades, but my hunger for Torin still burns.
I wish he’d come to my room, but I know he won’t. Not with his family in the house.
But maybe when we get back to Edinburgh… maybe I can take him into my room and show him just how beautiful he is.
Over and over and over.