“We’re not going back to the tent until I say we are,” he said, kissing Keld’s chest. “We have too many things on the agenda, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, is that so?” Keld seized Grayson’s jaw and forced his face up. “Feeling rebellious today, are we?”
Grayson gave him a cocky smile.
With a low laugh, Keld leaned in to claim Grayson’s mouth.
∞∞∞
There was a slight possibility that Grayson had become moreout of shape than anticipated since moving to Miami. Air puffed between his lips and sweat beaded across his forehead.
Several yards ahead, Keld called over his shoulder, “I can smell you from here.”
“Shut up,” Grayson wheezed.
Keld flashed him a grin. “I like it.”
“Disgusting.”
The Mer slowed until he was side by side with Grayson. “Your sweat carries pheromones. I can’t help but like it. You smell like a vintage candy shop.”
“Frequent those, do you?” Grayson huffed.
“I can imagine. I took it upon myself to purchase a few tins of those violet candies you mentioned, and your friends are right—that’s exactly how you smell.” Keld leaned in and kissed Grayson’s temple. “And how you taste.”
“I’m pretty sure I just taste salty,” Grayson countered.
Keld bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Parts of you.”
“Ew.”
“What? I was referring to your tears.”
Grayson groaned and stopped in the middle of the trail, his hands on his knees. The black, alien soil marred his pristine tennis shoes—the ones that had, until now, only seen pavement and the white tiles of the birthing center.
“Look at the view,” Keld said, nudging Grayson.
Grayson forced himself upright.
The sun had just vanished beyond the horizon, spilling red and orange light across the sea. The sky was washed in vermillion which gave way to indigo blues. The purple foliage around them burned bronze, and Keld himself shone like precious ore.
Grayson gazed at Keld, no longer interested in anything else the view had to offer. His golden scales caught and held the dying orange light, and his fins glowed translucent amber. The pale, almost human shades on his face glinted, giving away the minute scales. Stephanie Meyer would have loved him.
Keld’s eyes, exactly the same hues as the burning horizon, shifted to Grayson. “What?”
Grayson stared back at him. “You’re… just really beautiful.”
Something splintered in the mask of confidence Keld always wore. “Am I?”
Grayson ran a finger along the glittering scales. “Like gold.” His hand followed the line of Keld’s arm up to his chest. “And soft sand.” He kept moving, brushing Keld’s collarbone, neck, and jaws. He cradled the Alpha’s face in his palm and met his carnelian gaze. “And fire.”
Almost imperceptible tremors flowed into Grayson’s hand. He’d felt them before, the night Keld talked about his mother.
Grayson leaned up to kiss him. “Why are you shaking?”
Keld let out an uneven breath. “It’s… embarrassing.”
Grayson frowned. “How is it embarrassing?”
