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Ten Days Later…
“My ass hurts.”
James gives me a look I can read, even beneath his sunglasses. “You want me to rub it?”
I laugh out loud. “Like you need an excuse.”
“Point well made, kid.”
We’re lying on a chaise lounge on our own private beach in St. Barth. We’ve only been here for a few days, but it’s already been the best time of my life. Nothing but sex and good food and fun in the sun, all day, every day.
I could get used to this.
I know what you’re thinking, and no, my ass doesn’t hurt from being railed six times a day, though that was certainly an adjustment, what with the size and general ferocity of the man who owns me, body, heart, and mind.
We went jet-skiing yesterday, and I was showing off, jumping some of the bigger waves. At the time, it was a blast, but now my butt is sore as fuck.
Might have to take him up on a nice massage later, after we adjourn from sunbathing.
I attempt to subtly sneak out from under the umbrella that covers us, but James grabs me by the waist and tugs me back.
“Stop being fresh,” he scolds, a comfortable grin resting on his lips.
“I want to get just a little sun,” I whine. “I won’t burn, I promise.”
“Nice try,” he grunts, and I pout.
He doesn’t want me to get too much color, insisting that my pale complexion is sexy as all hell. And normally I agree with him. But I have to come back with at least a little bit of a tan. I mean… come on.
“Why don’t you rub some more sunscreen on me, then?” I roll onto my stomach, pushing my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose. “That’s always fun.”
He laughs. “Oh, yea. It was even more fun for the onlookers yesterday at the jet-ski place.”
I snicker at the memory.
St. Barth is an awesome place. Not only is the weather perfect, the food amazing, and the sights purely gorgeous, but it’s also openly accepting of all lifestyles. There are a bunch of gay couples staying in the villas near us, which certainly helped loosen us up when we first got here.
We’ve been able to just be us the entire time, without worry. It’s all I could ask for.
Here, we aren’t a father and his adoptive son. We’re just Jesse and James. New lovers vacationing, relaxing, and enjoying each other in ways that, let’s be real, we probably couldn’t at home. Definitely not in the town where we both grew up.
I’m loving every minute of it, while simultaneously dreading going back. I hate that there’s a timer on this.
Pushing away the icky thoughts, I get James up and drag him into the water. We walk in, hands clasped, wading into the crystal-clear blue until we’re up to our chests. And then his hands travel, and mine do too, feeling each other up like we still haven’t gotten our fill. I’m not sure we ever will.
James hoists me up in the water, molding me to his strong frame as I wrap my legs around his waist. I touch the tattoos on his shoulders and arms while he kisses my neck, giving me chills even beneath the heat of the sun.
“You’re perfect, sweet thing,” he croons in my ear, licking up the saltwater on my flesh. “Everything about you… You’re beautiful and sexy and perfect and mine.”
“I am so yours,” I tell him, combing my fingers through his dark wet hair. “Always.”
“No matter what?” he hums, palming my cock over the material of my fitted swim trunks.
“No matter what.”
His other hand grips my ass tighter. “I’m yours too, baby.”
“Always?” My heart thumps into his through our flushed chests.
