Page 38 of September’s Tide (Island Tales #2)

Saturday night wrapped them in quiet , t he kind of stillness that came only after rain, the windows streaked with rivulets, the sea beyond reduced to a soft murmur.

The warmth of the house, the scent of skin and fresh sheets, the creak of the old wooden frame…

It all conspired to create a moment suspended in time.

David lay on his side, tracing the line of Taylor’s arm, his fingers skimming over the faint tan lines and the dip of his shoulder. The glow from the bedside lamp bathed them in gold.

“I’ll stay in touch,” David said with conviction.

Taylor smiled faintly, that gentle, crooked half-smile David had come to recognize as both affectionate and defensive.

“I know you say that now,” Taylor murmured, his voice low and steady, “but you’re going to be very busy.

” David opened his mouth to argue, but Taylor pressed a finger to his lips.

“You don’t have to promise me anything.” Taylor’s eyes held his with quiet honesty.

“You’ll be on the other side of the world.

You’ll be surrounded by people and deadlines and scripts and.

.. meetings about meetings. It’s fine , David. ”

“But I mean it.” David’s voice cracked slightly. He shifted, leaning over, letting the weight of his body settle gently on top of Taylor. “You don’t know how much this has meant to me. How much you mean to me.”

Taylor reached up and brushed his fingers along David’s jaw. “I think I do. But it’s okay if this is where it ends. I won’t regret a single second of it.”

David swallowed hard. “I don’t want it to end.”

Taylor didn’t say anything at first but simply slid his hand to the back of David’s neck, his fingers curling into the hair there.

The feel of Taylor beneath him was grounding, solid and familiar now after weeks of shared skin and laughter and quiet nights like this.

David could feel the length of him pressed along his body, warm and already hardening.

“I want to believe you,” Taylor whispered. “I really do.”

David leaned down, their foreheads touching. “Then believe me.”

Taylor gave a small, knowing laugh and rocked his hips, slow and deliberate. David gasped as their cocks brushed, firm and slick between their bellies. His eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat.

“I will always remember these weeks,” Taylor murmured, his voice softening. “Even if we lose touch. Even if it all fades. This—” he kissed David once. “—this will stay with me.”

David’s breath caught in his throat. “You don’t make this easy, you know.”

“I’m not trying to.” Taylor’s voice was barely above a whisper. “But I won’t ask you to choose me over your life. I wouldn’t even know what that looks like.”

“You don’t have to ask.”

David kissed him then, slow and sensual, the kiss a promise wrapped in uncertainty. Their mouths moved in sync, their tongues brushing, the heat between them building again.

David’s hand slid down between them, wrapping around both of them, their cocks pressed together in his palm. The slick friction made Taylor arch, moaning into David’s mouth.

Taylor tugged David’s hair, eyes closed as he rocked again, slow and deliberate. “David…” he breathed.

David pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “Tell me what you want.”

Taylor’s voice was thick now, his body already starting to tremble with need. “I want you to make love to me. As though it’s the last time.”

David nodded once, his eyes never leaving Taylor’s. “God, yes.”

He reached over to the nightstand to retrieve the bottle of lube they’d long since stopped putting away. He took his time preparing him, pressing gentle kisses along the inside of Taylor’s thigh, his hip, the soft skin just beneath his navel. Taylor’s body opened for him, trusting, welcoming.

When David finally slid inside, Taylor wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders and moaned softly into his ear.

“Don’t rush,” Taylor whispered.

“I won’t,” David promised.

He moved slowly, deliberately, every thrust careful and deep, trying to memorize Taylor from the inside out. Taylor’s legs curled around his waist, his heels pressing into the small of his back to draw him closer, deeper.

Their mouths never strayed far. Kisses traded between gasps, words half-formed against each other’s lips. Taylor clung to him as if he didn’t want to let go, raking his nails down David’s back. David sought Taylor’s hand, lacing their fingers together, holding tight.

The rhythm built gradually, their bodies gliding against each other, sweat slicking their skin, their breaths growing shorter. It felt to David as though every sigh, every shift, every whispered name was laced with a desperate tenderness neither of them dared name out loud.

When Taylor came, it was with a low groan against David’s neck, his whole body tensing and then shuddering beneath him. David followed seconds later, gasping Taylor’s name as if it was something sacred.

Afterward, David didn’t pull away. He stayed there, nestled against Taylor’s chest, their legs tangled, the occasional shiver still working its way through his spine.

Taylor stroked his hair with one hand, his other still entwined with David’s. “You feel everything too much,” he murmured.

David smiled against his skin. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Taylor whispered. “It’s what I love about you.”

David stilled, the words lingering between them, bold, naked, unprovoked.

Taylor didn’t take them back.

David pressed a kiss to the centre of Taylor’s chest and closed his eyes, his body slowly relaxing against Taylor’s. The storm outside had passed, but the one inside him, messier, quieter, infinitely more complicated, was still raging.

Taylor fell asleep first, wrapped in David’s arms, both of them surrounded by warmth and breath and the echo of something David didn’t dare name, but believed it to be present.

Love.