Page 17

CHAPTER 17

ETNA

“You know, all the wedding themes I keep finding are just… boring,” I grumble.

Keno glances at me. We’ve spent most of the last twenty-four hours attending to our various assignments. I think Keno’s sent fifty venue inquiries. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it feels that way. Autofill already knows exactly what he’s going to fill in when he gets to the ‘ Contact Us ’ page now.

“Regency, romantic, glamorous, modern, whimsical, rustic, bohemian, art deco, tropical, desert—which seems too cliché since we live in the desert—timeless. I don’t even know what that means. Vintage, travel, nautical, disco, celestial, gothic, southern charm, traditional, casual, preppy… Like, none of these feels like us.”

“No, I get that. Not a single one of those sounds even remotely appealing.”

“Then it goes the other way; wizards, LEGOs, pirates, zombies, bikers, medieval, Alice in Wonderland —which, by the way, looks totally amazing and wild, but not really us—superheroes, fantasy, carnival, outer space, Wizard of Oz and other popular book inspirations. But seriously, where are the cool hockey weddings?”

“Have you seen any hockey weddings?”

“Yes. I’m trying not to be judgmental, but they’re tacky. I feel like it’s dollar store DIY and I’m not using that as an insult, though I totally know it sounds like one. I’m just saying that the ones I’ve seen look cheap, and that’s just not what we’re going for.” I look up at Keno. I don’t even know what I’m aiming for anymore. “Right?”

He shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what we’re going for.”

“My sister would be good at this,” I mutter.

Keno sighs. “Have you called her?”

“No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring her up.”

He leaves the chair he loves to curl up in and instead curls up against my side. I grin, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“I’m sorry you haven’t heard from her,” he says.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to bring her up,” I repeat.

“I know, but you always mention her. It’s natural to bring her up in this conversation. I just wish things were different because I think you’d enjoy her being involved in this.”

I click my phone screen off and set it down. Grabbing Keno’s tablet, I set it on top of my phone. Then I pull him onto my lap. His cheeks flush right away, which is turning into one of my absolute favorite things about him.

“Want to get off?” he asks, his hands resting on my sides.

I almost say no, but really, I could totally get off. That’s definitely fine. However, that’s not why I brought him close like this. I frame his face so he’s looking into my eyes. “I’m enjoying planning our wedding with you , Keno. Don’t doubt that. There’s no one I’d rather share this frustration with than you. Not even my sister.”

He sighs.

I pull his face down so I can press my mouth to his. We’ve mastered making out, I’m pretty sure. It only took us a few days to get over the strangeness of kissing my best friend and having his tongue in my mouth.

Now it’s becoming one of my favorite pastimes. I love the taste of him. I love how he kisses me. How he slowly gets more into it. The way his tongue moves with mine, both dominantly but also backing off and wanting me to take control.

That feels a lot like our relationship in general. Keno likes to take the lead, except when he’s done with leading. I think he’s learning that he really likes to be the one led. At least by me.

“You sure you don’t want an orgasm?” he asks into my mouth.

I grin. “If you want to touch me, then touch me. You don’t need to ask.”

“I don’t?”

“No. Touch me anytime you want to.”

Keno grips the front of my shirt and hauls me sideways, so we both fall to our sides on the couch. I laugh while we kiss. Our legs are tangled, hitting the table and the shit on the table as we try to arrange ourselves on the couch.

It’s one of those rare days I’m wearing a shirt, so Keno has to push it out of his way to get to my stomach. He doesn’t go down my pants right away. His hands glide over my skin, making my muscles jump and my skin heat.

“You’re so smooth,” Keno says, sliding his hand up to my chest. His thumb moves over my nipple a few times. I can feel those flicks like they’re against my dick.

“So are you,” I answer, trying to keep my hands still on his hips. Keeping his pelvis to mine so he can feel what he’s doing to me as much as I can feel how it’s turning him on, too.

Keno’s getting braver. The more pleasure he takes from us, the more confident he gets. It’s like the voice in his head that kept questioning whether we were going to enjoy touching a dude is slowly being silenced and he’s finding his footing.

It’s addictive.

His hands on me are better than I imagined. Now I can admit I was nervous I might not be as into it as I promised him we’d be. His hands are bigger, stronger than any woman who’s touched me. His body is harder and bulkier than any woman I’ve been with. Keno’s voice is deeper. The sounds he makes are deeper.

And of course, more notably, he has a cock as opposed to a pussy.

These things did worry me. I just didn’t want him to know that because he was already concerned. I’m sure that was the reason he had to think about it for several days. One of us needed to be confident.

I’m relieved I enjoy his touch more than I’ve enjoyed anyone else’s. It makes me wonder if I’ve subconsciously been far more into him than I realized. That’s possible, isn’t it? There’s a very real chance I’ve been in love with my best friend this entire time.

I’m not mad about it.

His fingers tweak my nipple, and my hips jerk forward, pressing our dicks together. He smiles into my mouth and then sucks on my lip as his fingers slide down my torso again. This time, they don’t stop until they’ve dipped below the waistline of my shorts.

His grip on me is confident. Strong. Immediately taking me under his control and making me groan as he tugs on me. Since yesterday when I jerked him on the chair, we’ve done this half a dozen times and counting. Yes, in the last twenty-four hours, we’ve gotten off more than we have in the last six months.

Well, with someone else involved, anyway.

There are still moments when we laugh and fumble. We’ve learned that especially when we’re both naked, it gets a little… awkward isn’t the right word. Overwhelming, maybe. It feels like there’s a lot of pressure.

I remind us both that we’re still new to this. New to each other in this way and new to being with a guy. We deserve to allow ourselves some patience. We aren’t in a hurry to get this right. Despite our calendar reminders, our only real assignment is to enjoy each other.

That usually does the trick the couple times I’ve said it. We also allow one person at a time to explore and touch and jerk while the other one enjoys their touch and orgasm. And we’re not both naked anymore.

At least, not yet. I’m confident it’ll come. Probably quicker than I think it will. We’re definitely not in a hurry, but we’re horny as fuck and found a new outlet that we not only enjoy, but we can do together.

Keno gently bites my lip, and I groan. My fingers dig into his hips as I jerk forward into his hand. He chuckles.

“You really like being touched, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Why pretend otherwise?

“Is it my touch or just touch in general?”

“Both,” I tell him. “I’ve always enjoyed being touched, but your touch is… maddeningly intoxicating.”

He likes my answer. His mouth covers mine, sealing in my sounds as he devours me. Kissing me hard and deep. Meanwhile, he drops his other hand and grips my balls. I can’t decide if I’m more turned on by the way he gently squeezes them or how expertly he’s jerking me.

The way heat floods my body, sending my arousal screaming in my ears like a train whistle, has me moaning loudly into his mouth. He doesn’t give me breath. He doesn’t slow down. Instead, he plays my body like a puck until I lose it and come all over him.

Keno milks me until I grip his wrist to stop him. There’s a very fine line between emptying your dick and discomfort from being oversensitive. His cum-covered hand comes up, tangling in my hair as he continues to kiss me until black dots obscure my vision.

Then he releases my mouth. However, for the first time, he continues spreading kisses over my skin. My face, my jaw, my neck. He sucks on my collarbone while I catch my breath.

“You know what?” he asks, his hot breath puffing against my damp skin.

I shake my head.

“This is hotter than anything I’ve done before.”

I nod.

“Why?” I can hear the perplexed tone in his question.

“I was just thinking that earlier. I kind of wonder if we’ve subconsciously been attracted to each other this entire time. Subconsciously in love with each other.”

Keno doesn’t respond as he continues to kiss me wherever he can reach until he’s back at my mouth. This time, his kiss is slow and sweet and… intimate. Not filled with lust and hunger, but with something more personal.

“I feel like I should be less nervous, then,” Keno admits.

“Nah,” I disagree. “I think this is going just how it needs to be. There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, Keno. I’m nervous too. I think it’s more meaningful to be nervous and not let that stop us because we want to do this and being afraid of something new between us isn’t a bad thing. Neither of us wants to lose what we already have, and it is a risk changing it when we aren’t guaranteed of the outcome.”

“It’s come easier once we got past the initial fear,” Keno says, nodding subtly. “I think you’re right about the subconscious thing, too. When you brought it up, my concern was never being married to you and spending my life with you. My answer to that part was an immediate yes. But the only thing I could think of was ‘ what if he hates sex with me? ’”

“What if you hate it with me?” I counter.

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m saying and yes, that question followed a day later.”

“I think, so far, we can agree that sex together isn’t bad.”

Keno smirks. “It’s really, really fucking good. I’ve never enjoyed getting someone off nearly as much as I love getting you off. The way you tremble in my hands because of what I do to you is hot as fuck, dude.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I agree. I never thought I’d enjoy being covered in cum, but… I mean, I’m looking forward to washing it out of my hair, but it’s not nearly as disgusting as I thought it’d be.”

He laughs.

We’re interrupted when his phone rings. Sighing, Keno rolls himself off the couch and lands on his ass on the floor. I snort laughter as he climbs to his feet and grabs his phone. He answers just before the rings stop.

“Hello?” Pause. “Yes.” Another pause. “Hi, thanks for calling.”

I watch his face as he listens to the caller.

“Just a second.” He pulls the phone from his ear and looks at me. “One of the venues wants to know if we’d like to come in for a tour this afternoon.”

I shrug. “Sure.”

Keno brings the phone back. “That sounds good.” A quite lengthy pause and then he says, “Thanks. See you at three.”

“Which one is this?” I ask when he hangs up.

He laughs. “I have no idea, but she’s sending me some directions via email. I’m hoping there’s an address.”

The place we pull up to is impressive. It’s a mountain resort with hiking, different kinds of lodging, activities year-round, and spectacular views everywhere we look. The woman we meet loads us into an all-terrain buggy and drives us around the resort.

We follow a path to a private peak with only a single, large chalet with probably the best view I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Everywhere we look, it’s breathtaking. There are trees and greenery, but the mountains around us are a combination of desert stone and green tops. There’s even the quiet babble of water moving nearby.

There’s a spa, enough lodging for everyone at a variety of price points starting as low as $125/night. They offer room blocks and event pricing for groups on top of that for some of the pricier rooms.

We can even rent an entire section of the resort for our event alone. She brings us back to the primary building—a huge hotel at the top of one of the mountain peaks—and shows us a portfolio of weddings they’ve hosted. I’m surprised and relieved to see a variety of themes still work in a location like this.

After an hour and as the sun begins to go down for the evening, the woman leaves us alone to talk about it. We’re left with a bunch of brochures and pictures, too.

“I’m in,” I say. “This place is stunning.”

Keno smiles. “It is. I’m not sure which spot is my favorite, though. Which do we book? For how long?”

We rifle through the pamphlets until we find the package we’re interested in. Monday through Thursday and we can reserve the private chalet and the cabins at the base of that mountain. There’s transportation, catering is included at different prices depending on what kinds of food we’re interested in, and there are three different options for cocktail hour and reception with this single peak.

The base price is $17,000. Half is due up front.

“Is this normal?” Keno asks as we stare at the number.

“In everything I’ve read, the current national average spent on a wedding is $44,000.”

His eyes widen. “We’re not spending that, are we?”

I laugh. “We didn’t set a budget, remember?”

“It seems silly for a single day,” he complains.

“It’s not a single day, though. This price gets us four days. I think that’s pretty good, no?”

He hesitates as he stares at the page. I take his hand and yank him toward me until he almost falls out of his chair. His tension breaks as he laughs, catching himself with my thigh. I love the way his eyes sparkle with laughter.

“We don’t have to choose this place. We don’t have to spend this money. We can get married in a junkyard wearing paper bags, and it’s still going to be the best day of my life.”

Keno’s breath rushes out. “I hate how swoony you are without trying to be.”

“You’re swoony too. That proposal left me breathless.”

“I planned for days! You just vomit sweet shit. It’s unfair.”

It’s difficult not to smile as I lift his face to mine. “At the risk of earning more of your irritation, seriously, the only thing that matters is us. Wherever that is. Okay? We don’t need to spend $40,000. We don’t need to spend $10,000. Or we can spend $200,000. I don’t care. You and me—that’s the most important thing about our wedding day.”

The woman chooses that moment to walk into the room as we’re staring into each other’s eyes while my words hang in the air.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “I can give you another minute.”

“No,” Keno says, not looking away. “We’ll book now. It’s perfect.”

I smile and place a soft kiss on his lips.