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I chuckled. “Like I could stop you if I tried.”
∞∞∞
The afternoon unfolded with us alternating between basking in the sun, indulging in pastries, and taking refreshing swims. Following our conversation, the dynamic between us underwent a subtle transformation. Despite my proclamation about the need for a gradual pace, I found my touches during the day becoming less and less casual, and his reciprocating in turn.
Initially, it was familiar territory—occasional brushes of hands and thighs, progressing to languid hand-holding. We had already established a certain level of comfort with each other’s bodies, and abruptly halting those gestures would have felt strange. Like ceasing such physical contact would create an undue pressure, making the eventual progression to more intimate moments with Gray feel weightier than necessary.
But as we were in the water, amidst the playful splashing, I realized that voicing my emotions had unlocked a part of myself that I had previously kept under wraps. I felt a genuine attraction to Gray. I liked him, and perhaps more crucially, I trusted him. Trusted him to handle my heart with care. So, as we engaged in a lighthearted wrestling match in the water, and I ended up clinging to Gray’s body like a baby koala, I had zero desire to let go.
With a tentative boldness, I let my hands explore Gray’s shirtless form. Tracing his silky tanned skin, exploring the contours of his firm, defined muscles, gliding down his pecs, and skating over his abdominals. Feeling emboldened, I seized Gray’s free hand, the one not holding me against him and encouraged him to return the touch. Time seemed to freeze as our hands engaged in a sensual dance over each other’s bodies. It was a silent exchange, expressing our pent-up longing and desire.
Tired of hiding, of resisting my feelings, I lifted my face from its haven against Gray’s neck. His eyes mirrored the crystal blue of the spring, a near-perfect match in color. Without overthinking, acting purely on instinct, I attacked his mouth with a passionate kiss, a bold move that was an unspoken culmination of our shared affections.
Gray tensed, caught off guard by my sudden and unceremonious advance. Still, I persisted, laying claim to his mouth with an unbridled lack of finesse. It stood in stark contrast to the tender, slow, closed-mouth kiss I had always envisioned for my first. Instead, all the suppressed desires manifested in a kiss filled with raw, carnal passion.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Gray embraced the intensity, meeting my fire with equal fervor. Our lips, tongues, and teeth clashed in a frenzied dance. I tugged at the back of his neck, attempting to draw him even closer, despite us already being pressed together tightly from head to toe. In response, Gray cradled my head in his large palms, fingers weaving through my hair to further deepen the connection.
Driven by an urge I’d never experienced, I snaked a hand down between our bodies to grasp Gray’s erection through his wet board shorts. Even as a moan loosed from his throat, Gray gripped my wrist to stop my advance.
“Not yet, baby. We’re taking it slow, remember?” he reminded me with a husky timbre.
“Umm,” I mumbled, still ensnared in a haze of lust, struggling to comprehend why we were putting the brakes on.
“Colt, look at me,” he urged, and I complied, feeling slightly groggy. “I don’t want you to make a life-changing decision like this without properly thinking it through. And neither of us will make good choices when we’re this horny. So let’s swim back to shore and I can show you your surprise.”
He didn’t bother to set me down, rightly assuming I might drown if I attempted to swim back on my own at this point. Instead, he stood in the water where he’d been crouched, and he walked us towards the forgotten picnic blanket with me securely wrapped around his waist.
As my mind cleared, I felt a lingering tingle on my lips and shivered. My fingers itched for a pen to capture the lyrics swirling in my mind. I longed to pour my emotions onto the page, crafting notes and melodies. Gray communicated his inner thoughts through touch, and I ached to reciprocate in the only way I knew how—through music.
As we reached the river bank and clambered out of the water, goosebumps erupted all over my wet skin. Only now did I realize how much time had passed in the water. With dusk settling upon us, the temperature had dropped significantly.
Noticing my trembling, Gray offered a reassuring smile. “Here you go. Go dry off and get changed into the sweats I left in the truck. I’ll start the bonfire.” Instead of just handing me the towel, Gray enveloped me in it, reminiscent of wrapping up a toddler after a bath. Normally, I would have protested and made a sarcastic remark about not needing to be babied. However, this time, I simply gave him a dopey grin and followed his suggestion.
What was happening to me?
After a quick dash to the truck and discovering the bag of clothes Gray had stashed in the cab, I swiftly stripped down and pulled on the softest pair of sweats imaginable. They were brand new, evidenced by the tags still attached. Some might even call them pajamas, but I refused. Wearing fluffy flannel pajamas on a date would be a true fashion travesty. So, we were going with lounge wear.
Upon my return, a small fire crackled beside our rug. The circle of rocks I had previously overlooked turned out to be the country version of a fire pit.
Gray expressed his gratitude as I handed him the bag containing his dry clothes. I half-expected him to change right then and there. However, he shot me a bashful look and opted to get dressed behind a tree. Even that modest act, further proof of his respect for my boundaries, managed to get me hot and bothered.
Logically, I understood the need to take things slow. Rushing would likely leave me regretful afterward. But it already felt like a losing battle. I’d be lucky to hold out a week before I jumped Gray’s caring and gentlemanly bones.
A grunt behind me signaled Gray’s return. He appeared to have made a detour back to the truck after changing into his matching sweats, because he placed a cooler beside the fire.
We set to work, roasting hot dogs over the fire and sipping on sodas. I had half-expected Gray to produce some beers from his cooler, but I should have known better. In passing, I had mentioned my decision not to drink because I didn’t want to end up like my parents, and Gray, of course, had absorbed that information and committed it to memory.
Our conversation during the meal was minimal. However, the silence was comfortable, even welcomed. I suspected Gray, like me, was sorting through the events of the day and their implications.
Because, without a doubt, everything had changed today. No matter how much I had wanted to downplay the significance of this date, I couldn’t deny the truth. We had forged an unbreakable, strangely perfect connection that would be futile to deny or ignore.
“I have something for you,” Gray murmured softly. He looked utterly adorable in his pajamas, his hair drying into wild curls that were illuminated by the setting sun, creating a halo effect behind him.
Oh, right. I’d completely forgotten about the surprise he mentioned.
“It’s not much, and it’s probably not going to be very good, but I wanted to make an effort so that you’d know I was serious about you. About us. That this isn’t just a fleeting fling for me.”
A hint of nervousness lingered in his demeanor as he turned and retrieved the guitar cases I had also overlooked. Silently, he handed me mine and then began to open the other.
