AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jake’s mind stayed fixated on Micah, and not just on how hot seeing him jerk off had been. He didn’t know Micah well enough to know what had caused his change in mood or if he was responsible for it. It could be that Micah was worn out from the performances like he’d said, or maybe he was just tired of Jake, especially if Alex had been yammering at him. Jake suspected that was what caused Micah’s declaration that morning, the one he knew he wasn’t supposed to have overheard. On the one hand, he was glad he had—he didn’t want Micah falling in love with him; on the other, he couldn’t help the pang he’d felt, and that confused him. Caring what a hookup thought was different for him, and here he was, hours later, still thinking about it.
He was intrigued, curious, and totally at odds with himself. Even the floorshow occurring a few feet away from him wasn’t enough to keep his thoughts away from Micah. He could have understood if it were only the sight of naked breasts that wasn’t holding his attention, since breasts didn’t do anything for him, but Emerson was hot. When Alex kissed him, it should have at least piqued Jake’s curiosity, since his roommate had never given him a reason to doubt he was anything other than a solid zero on the Kinsey scale. He saw it, and it was hot, but it wasn’t enough to get his mind off the image of Micah huddled on that narrow bed, and the sound of his voice, miserable and hurt, as he asked Jake to leave.
He continued to sit on the deck, away from the foursome, turning thoughts about Micah over and over, until Alex finally looked at him and smirked.
“Dude, you’re thinking so hard over there, I can hear you. Go away already.”
Jake shook his head. For the second time that day, he was being told to leave. He got up without a word and dived off the deck then settled into long strokes that cut through the cove’s calm water with ease.
Even though he’d been one of the best swimmers in the Bay Area during high school and earned an athletic scholarship to Stanford for swimming, he was only average for his college team, which was one of the best in the country. He was competitive at longer distances, but not every meet included the 1000-yard race, let alone the 1650, so his value lay in his consistency at all four strokes and his willingness to do whatever it took to support his team. He was often the anchor person in relays, able to sub in depending on what the team needed that day. It meant long hours of training in the pool and weight room for the possibility of a few minutes’ race time after a long-ass day at a meet. He was proud to be on the team, but often felt frustrated too.
Slicing through the water, he felt the tension drain from his body as his muscles warmed. Concentrating on his breathing and strokes calmed his mind, and the saltwater gave him a slight buoyancy that made him feel as if he were skimming through the water without effort.
The night before, when he’d swum out to the diving platform, was his first time swimming in open water. The Pacific Ocean was too cold, and the beaches closest to where he lived were notorious for riptides that killed several people each year. He found he liked it here. The distance between the two boats wasn’t that great, but he was loving the pull and burn of his muscles, thrilled with the ability to keep going rather than performing a flip turn every twenty-five yards. He looped around Micah’s boat and headed back the way he’d come. He completed another two laps before pulling himself up onto the swim platform and lying flat, his chest heaving from the exertion. His muscles zinged with electricity, and he groaned with how amazing the sunlight felt on his skin.
“Have a good swim?”
He looked up to see Micah leaning over the seats on the aft deck. Even better, Micah was grinning at him, and it was as if Jake had momentarily forgotten how gorgeous Micah was. That guy Emerson wasn’t even in the same league, not with Micah staring down at him, his hair a blazing halo around his beautiful face. No wonder Jake had been distracted. His body positively ached with how much he wanted Micah.
He felt his dick thicken inside his tight bathing suit. Stretched out as he was, he knew there was no way Micah couldn’t see it. Opting for nonchalance, he nodded and asked if Micah had a good nap.
Micah blushed but didn’t look away. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t realize how tired I was.” He looked in the direction of the other boat. “Alex still enjoying himself?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to mention the kiss between Alex and Emerson, but he wasn’t about to out his friend. That wasn’t how he rolled. He nodded again, saying, “We’re going to have to drag him out of there.”
Micah laughed and pushed off the seat to stand up. “You should shower to get the salt off your skin. Use the one in my parents’ cabin. It’s the biggest.” He disappeared from view.
Jake was immediately on his feet, climbing the ladder to the aft deck, then moving toward the stairs that would take him belowdecks, practically stalking Micah.
The door to Micah’s cabin was open, but he wasn’t in it, so Jake headed for the stateroom that took up the entire back of the yacht. The bed had been used. That was the first thing Jake noticed when he stepped into the cabin. The second was the unmistakable scent of cum. He grinned. Micah had obviously taken Alex’s advice, which probably accounted for his change in mood. A good wank always helped Jake feel right with the world. A good workout helped too, but not as much as an orgasm.
He stretched, pressing his hands against the ceiling, and wondered if he might be able to rub out a quick one in the shower to get rid of his half-chub.
He stepped into the bathroom. It was almost a full-sized shower, and it too had been used recently. Jake turned on the water, slid his Speedo down his legs, and rinsed it out in the sink, then wrung it dry.
“You don’t want to wait too long, or the water goes cold.”
Jake spun around to find Micah sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a towel. He’d changed into a polo shirt and shorts.
Micah’s eyes immediately went to Jake’s cock, which was growing harder. When Micah licked his lips, Jake groaned.
“Are you hoping for a show?” he asked.
Micah shrugged, then stood and took the single step necessary to bring him up against Jake. “I’m just bringing you a towel.”
“You can stay and watch.” Jake took the towel from Micah and put it on the vanity.
“I was thinking of something a bit more…interactive. But seriously, you should get in. The tank doesn’t hold a lot of water.”
Jake turned his back to Micah and stepped into the shower stall. He reached for the detachable showerhead and ran the water over his body. When he turned around, Micah was standing in the doorway, eyeing him like he wanted to devour Jake.
He put the showerhead back in place, took a palmful of body wash, and started lathering himself up. When he got to his cock, he lifted his head, made eye contact with Micah, and ran his hand over his length. Micah licked his lips again, gave a small nod, and Jake kept going. Grasping his cock in his fist, he pumped his hips, sliding through his tight grip. He groaned at how good it felt.
“Come closer,” he told Micah, and Micah did, then reached into the shower stall and turned the water off.
“So you don’t run out.” He was breathless, pupils blown. Tentatively, he put his hand on Jake’s chest, and Jake’s hand stilled on his cock. “May I?”
Jake nodded, and Micah trailed his fingers over Jake’s soapy chest. He hadn’t shaved since the end of swim season, and his dark hair was short and prickly, something that seemed to fascinate Micah as he ran his fingertips in the opposite direction to which it grew. He giggled and pushed his fingers through the coarse stubble, then spread his hands over Jake’s pecs. When he ran his thumb over one of Jake’s nipples, Jake drew in a sharp breath.
