Page 35 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)
seventeen
Adrian
The trip from Valetta to Athens was much different from the previous leg. For one thing, it was only a day, and for another Adrian wasn’t spending it upset and alone in his cabin. Instead, he enjoyed every single minute of it because he was with Ren.
After breakfast in their cabin, he and Ren lounged on the aft deck, and Adrian didn’t think he would ever get tired of the man’s company.
Although they couldn’t play in the pool—the waves were too choppy and the captain had ordered it and the hot tub drained so the side-to-side slosh of the water didn’t overbalance the yacht—they lay together and talked, occasionally pausing for kisses.
Their conversation ranged widely from idiotic commentary on internet memes Adrian found to serious talk about climate change and Ren’s passion for historical preservation.
Though Adrian often found himself listening more than contributing—it was clear Ren had benefitted from an exceptional education, and the depth of his knowledge often left Adrian in awe—Ren never lectured or made Adrian feel stupid or condescended to.
Instead, Adrian found his curiosity piqued, his mind alive with thoughts and connections he’d never considered before.
And he found himself drawn to Ren’s intellect in a way that had never happened with any other man.
Who knew that brains would turn him on as much as beauty?
Ren surprised him at lunch by taking him down to the galley and parking him on a stool to watch while Ren assisted Rachel with preparations before they joined the crew to eat. “Be still my heart,” Adrian joked. “A man who can cook? Where do I sign up?”
With a smirk, Ren left the vegetables he was prepping and walked over to Adrian who parted his legs so Ren could stand between them. “Behave, poussin, or I’ll confine you to the cabin for the rest of the journey.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Adrian asked as he hooked his legs around Ren’s thighs and drew him closer, his breath hitching as Ren bent his head to give him a kiss. The sound of Rachel clearing her throat brought both their heads around to stare at the chef who waved her knife at them.
“Rule number one in my galley is everyone must be fully clothed. Rule number two? None of what you two are about to do. This is a place of food, not sex. Henri? Back to work.”
“Oui, chef.” Ren looked back at Adrian, shrugged, then gave him a quick kiss, which earned him a whack on the shoulder when he returned to his position next to Rachel.
For a long moment, Rachel considered Adrian, her expression unreadable to him except for the small, upward curve at the corners of her mouth.
She inclined her head toward him, then continued with the meal preparations.
When the food was done, he and Ren carried the platters down the stairs to the crew mess.
At the table, Ren made sure to include Adrian in the conversations he had with the crew, and it was clear this was routine for both him and them.
As the meal wrapped up, the bosun flashed Ren a shit-eating grin and told him it was his turn on the rota to do the washing up.
Ren laughed and stood, but Rachel told him not to be an idiot.
“You have a guest, Henri, don’t waste your time with these petty chores when there are more than enough hands to do them.”
Adrian moved to stand beside Ren. “It’s fine. Pass me a sponge, Your Highness,” he said and smiled when the crew applauded and cheered. Several of them clapped their hands on his shoulders as they left the crew mess to resume their duties elsewhere on the yacht.
After lunch, Ren and Adrian retired to their cabin for a cuddle that turned into another round of sex and then a nap.
When Adrian woke, the cabin was rosy from the glow of the setting sun, and he was happier than he remembered being in a long time.
His body ached in that pleasant way that only happened when the sex was really good.
And sex with Ren was very, very good. The man played him like a finely tuned instrument, finding places on Adrian’s body he had no idea were so responsive.
Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked down at Ren’s still sleeping face and gently brushed a lock of hair back so he could see the man better.
Ren’s lips were parted in sleep, dark lashes fanned across his sharp cheekbones, his curls turned golden from their time in the sun.
Once again, Adrian was struck by Ren’s rakish beauty.
The man could easily pass for a pirate himself.
And not the scary ones Ren had talked about the previous day, but the dashing ones, like Wesley or Inigo from The Princess Bride .
“What are you staring at, poussin?” Ren asked, and Adrian realized he’d gotten so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized Ren was watching him.
Adrian touched a fingertip to Ren’s nose ring. “Is this new?”
Ren raised an eyebrow, obviously clued into the fact that that hadn’t been what Adrian was thinking, but then he pulled Adrian down so they were face to face. Tracing the contours of Adrian’s cheeks and lips with his fingers, he shook his head. “Non. I have had it for many years.”
“But you don’t always wear it.” Adrian gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I may have stalked you a bit on social media while I wasn’t talking to you, and I didn’t see it in any photos, so I thought it was new.”
“It was an act of rebellion when I started university.” Ren chuckled, and the sound sent shivers down Adrian’s spine. “Did you learn anything else about me?”
It was on the tip of Adrian’s tongue to talk about how obvious it was that Ren and Christiana were incompatible based on their body language, the way Ren often was no matter who he was with except for his friend Maurice, and how the photos Emanuel had taken of the two of them were so very different, but he held back.
For all he knew, the photos posted on Ren’s accounts were staged photos and some PR person had directed them to pose a certain way even for casual shots.
Perhaps their most flattering angles weren’t compatible, though Adrian wasn’t sure Ren had a bad angle.
“You go to a lot of parties,” Adrian said.
“Oui, I do.” Ren settled onto his back and put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
Adrian settled next to him, draping an arm across his chest, and rested his chin on Ren’s shoulder. “Do you enjoy them?” he asked.
Turning his head slightly, Ren raised a hand and ran his fingers through Adrian’s hair. It wasn’t nearly as long as Ren’s, but Adrian loved the way it felt and arched into Ren’s touch like a cat, even purring when Ren tugged on a lock of it.
“Some more than others,” Ren answered and lifted the shoulder on which Adrian rested in a shrug that reminded Adrian of the roll of the yacht on the water.
“But I am finding it is good not to be surrounded by so many people. I like these more intimate moments much better.” He frowned even as he continued to gently massage the back of Adrian’s head.
“It is rare for me to have peaceful days like this. Always moving from one engagement to the next, always needing to keep track of which important person my father wants me to befriend or flatter, of what I am allowed to do in public and with whom. Perhaps my father sent me on this voyage because he understood I needed un congé sabbatique, une pause dans mes responsabilités.”
Adrian had noticed that Ren’s French became more prominent in his speech during quiet moments like this, but he still frowned because he couldn’t understand.
“That I needed un séjour, des vacances, a vacation,” Ren explained.
“I can understand that,” Adrian said, thinking about that moment in Luis and Darius’ apartment when he had reached his breaking point.
“Of course, you do. You have had your share of heartbreak, non?” Ren sighed and rolled so he could face Adrian again, fingers still tracing Adrian’s cheeks and lips.
“I have told you before, here, with you, I am able to be myself, Ren seulement, and be still for long enough that my thoughts are able to catch up to me. It is quite the revelation.”
Adrian laughed, then kissed Ren’s chest as the rumble of Ren’s laugh threatened to dislodge him. “Is your hair another act of rebellion?” he asked.
“Bien s?r. You are guessing all my secrets, poussin. I am required to keep it at a certain length when I am at home. When I travel, I let it grow out a bit, but not too much. I am also supposed to be clean-shaven whenever I appear in public. So, this,” Ren rasped the stubble on his cheek against Adrian’s fingers.
“This is also a way to resist the demands of my life. And there is my nose ring as well, as you noticed.”
“You’re quite the rebel,” Adrian laughed.
“I do my best, mon cher.”
Sobering, Adrian lifted his head and stared down at Ren. “Am I also an act of rebellion?” he asked.
Ren’s gaze turned from amusement to smolder in the blink of an eye, and Adrian found himself powerless to look away from the heat in his expression.
“Poussin, I think you may be an entire révolution,” he said, his voice deep and serious as he pulled Adrian down to him for a kiss that quickly turned into something more.
The Mediterranean had calmed enough for them to eat dinner on the Sun Deck, so after filling their plates in the galley, they carried them to the highest point on the yacht.
The night sky was relatively clear, and Ren asked the bridge crew to turn off any external lights that weren’t necessary for safety so the stars would be visible.
Adrian lay back on the lounger and stared at the night sky. Without much light pollution, the sky was filled with stars.
“You definitely don’t see anything like this in LA,” Adrian said.
“Perhaps I will take you to the Pic du Midi Observatory in the Pyrénées,” Ren said as he settled next to Adrian.