Page 38 of Out in the Surf

The words were right there on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them. I wasn’t ready to say it aloud, even though I knew it was true. I was too raw, too vulnerable in the moment, and…too fucking scared.

But I could show him how I felt.

I slowed the tempo and pressed my lips to his in a featherlight touch. When he lifted his hips, I thrust to meet him, urging him to follow me in a gentle give and take. A sublime dance that was all ours.

“You have no idea how amazing it feels to be inside you,” I whispered reverently.

“Mmm.”

“I fuckin’ love this sweet hole.”

“I—oh, fuck. I’m gonna come.”

“Do it. Come for me, baby.”

I moved faster, pistoning my hips and growling when cum shot over his fist and onto his stomach.

That was it for me. I bucked wildly and let my orgasm pull me under.

I braced myself for a big “feelings” conversation afterward. Not that either of us was into that shit. We weren’t. But tonight was…special. It wasn’t sex. It was so much more. I sensed it and I knew Cal did too.

Neither of us said a word.

We shampooed and washed each other, dried off, then redressed and crashed on the sofa with our legs tangled, playing video games until we were exhausted.

When we woke the next morning, everything felt different.

* * *

This new “us”became our norm as the holidays approached. Cal and I were something more than we’d set out to be. More than friends and more than lovers. We acknowledged it with touch and tone of voice. We stood closer than necessary, smiled too long, stared at each other…just because.

And we spent a lot of time together.

We surfed almost every morning, sometimes venturing to farther beaches. Then we’d go our separate ways for work and school, then meet up again later to sand surfboards, make dinner, or occasionally hang out with friends at a local bar. If anyone wondered why we were always together, they didn’t ask. And we didn’t tell.

I didn’t think he cared if anyone knew about us, though. We were too busy to worry about perception. Cal had been heads-down preparing for the holiday competition and working on the boards he needed to deliver before the new year. He didn’t share exact numbers, but I had a feeling he was closing in on the sum he needed for the surf shop. With any luck, by the end of January, he’d be a proud business owner.

And me?

I had finals, a few job interviews, and a plane ticket to travel home to see my family over winter break. I was on the short list for a promising opportunity with a venture capital firm in LA. My parents would freaking love it if I ended up working for a “real” company like that one. It paid well for an entry-level position….However, it sounded like a real yawner.

Honestly, I wanted to find something local and put the job search behind me. I spent way too much time worrying about it. I couldn’t even enjoy hanging out at the rink, ’cause my mind was doing laps faster than I could skate.

Like now.

I grabbed a stack of cones and dropped them on the blue line on the ice, nodding a greeting to Colby as he skated in a circle around me.

“I hear congratulations are in order, man,” Colby enthused, smacking me on the back.

I glanced over at my sort-of boss and raised my brows. Technically, I didn’t report to anyone. I volunteered a couple of times a week during team practices and occasionally for the youth squad.

What had started out as a desperate means of connecting to my biggest passion had morphed into a savvy way to make contacts. I’d heard that it was a matter of who you knew, not what you knew, that launched careers, but I’d still considered my effort to ingratiate myself to Coach Beltram and Colby as more of a lark than anything. I didn’t think anything was likely to come of the Sharks interview, and I didn’t really care. I enjoyed hanging out here. It was the best form of therapy…and cheaper by far than a session with my shrink.

“Congratulations? For what?”

Colby widened his eyes comically. “Oh, oops. Spoke too soon.”

“About?”