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“That’s a broad statement. If you mean you’ll never lay a hand on me, that I can believe. You’re not the type to speak with your fists. Never have been. But emotional hurt is inevitable in all relationships. It’s the partners’ capacity to forgive that defines the relationships that will last.”
“That’s some wise shit.”
Chas rolled his eyes. “Drink your port. Clearly I need to get you a little drunk before we discuss your feelings any more.”
“They warn SEALs about getting drunk and hopping into bed with frog hogs, you know.”
Chas frowned up at him. “What in the world is a frog hog?”
“Groupies in bars who hang out around SEAL bases looking to sleep with a SEAL.”
“You know I’m not interested in you just because you’re a SEAL, right?”
Gunner snorted. “Yeah. I got that memo a long time before I joined the teams.”
“And you know I wasn’t trying to seduce you when I asked you to come rescue me, right?”
Gunner’s arm tightened across Chas’s shoulders. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
Chas tilted his head up and kissed Gunner’s jaw.
He turned his head, tilted his chin down, and met Chas’s mouth with his own. Port on the tongue of his lover tasted amazing—spicy and pungent, with subtle notes of hot hillsides and bright sunshine.
Chas turned, threw his leg across Gunner’s hips, and straddled his lap, which brought them eye to eye. “I’m right here, G. Whatareyou going to do about me?”
Gunner’s junk stirred as Chas’s crotch floated lightly against his, the bubbles swirled around his penis, and the combination of heat and strong wine went to his head a hell of a lot faster than he expected them to.
“I do believe, Mr. Reed, that I’m going to make love to you in a hot tub, regardless of how cliché that might be. Then I’m taking you to bed, making love to you again, and spending the rest of the night holding you in my arms.”
Chas smiled, his eyes and entire face brilliant with the joy and love for life that Gunner had never been able to get enough of. Chas had always been the light to his darkness, the laughter to his taciturn nature, the reminder to reach beyond his darkest depression.
Their lovemaking was slow and intimate tonight. They stared into each other’s eyes as Chas’s body slipped down onto Gunner’s erection like a custom-made glove. The bubbles tickled Gunner’s balls, and the heat relaxed his entire body until all he could do was hold on to Chas’s waist and thrust up languidly for what seemed like forever.
Eventually, however, Chas’s body became taut in his arms, his own back arched up and into his lover, and they finished together, sharing mutual groans of satisfaction against each other’s necks.
Chas went limp, resting on Gunner’s shoulder, floating lightly in the water. They stayed like that until Gunner became aware of the pads of his fingers turning into prunes. He climbed out of the hot tub and lent Chas a hand to do the same. Then he led Chas over to the fireplace, where heat poured out, warming the whole room. He and Chas dried each other off using thick terry cloth towels.
He finished with a quick towel-dry of his hair. Chas grabbed the half-consumed bottle of port and headed for the king-sized bed facing the picture windows. They propped up the pillows and passed the bottle back and forth, drinking it as they stared out at the night.
“What’s that?” Chas asked, pointing.
Gunner looked at the faint green shimmer in the sky. “That’s the northern lights.”
“We don’t see them often in Misty Falls. There’s too much ambient light from the houses and streetlights.”
“They’re incredible when you get up into the Arctic Circle. Remind me to take you on vacation up there sometime and show you.”
Chas snuggled against his side without comment, but he seemed to like Gunner’s talk of a long-term relationship.
Maybe it was the port talking, but he could envision spending a very long time with Chas. They… fit.
Never in a million years had he seen this reunion coming, nor the direction it had taken. Things were moving fast, really fast, between them.
Too fast, perhaps?
Was it supposed to happen like this? A thunderbolt out of the past that knocked him completely on his ass? Was he being a fool for love? Was this no more than a hot sexual infatuation with his first real lover? How in the hell was he supposed to know?
One thing he did know. He hated the unanswered questions rattling around in his head. And as sure as he was lying here, he had no idea what to do next with Chas. Hell, he barely had any idea what came next in his own life. How was he supposed to know what kind of life he could offer Chas… if any?