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I glance around and realize it’s so different from mine. I mean, the layout looks the same, but it’s bright and colorful. Photographs line the wall, and a bright blue couch sits in front of a TV. He even has some throw pillows.
Maybe I should try and make my place a little homier. I can make it the wayIwant instead of what I grew up being told to want. I’m going to be here a while, it seems. Not like I can tuck tail and run home yet. I wouldn’t even know what to say to my parents if I did that.
I’m not sure they’ll ever forgive me.
The door shuts behind us, and Holden locks it, my hand dropping to my side. He turns and strides into the small kitchen and pulls out a couple water bottles. My eyes, the traitorous fuckers, land on that apple ass and stay there the entire time.
They are obsessed with his butt.
“Come on, big man, sit down. You looming makes me nervous,” he says, gesturing to the small blue couch. I’ll take up half of it if I sit down. I was a linebacker for my football team in college. But still, I do what I’m told because I came all this way, no point in running away now. And I am oh-so curious what he’s going to do with me.
Or what the fuck he has planned.
“Uh, Devon said to stay away from you,” I murmur, wrenching my eyes away from his ass. “Why did he say that?”
“Yes, well, let me tell you a little secret. That man isno fun,” he replies, handing me a bottle of water and settling on the arm of the couch, much too close.
I can smell him. Salt and sea and skin and coconuts.
He’s refreshing and so different from the kinds of men I grew up around. The men back home are gruff and stoic, they smell like cigarettes and gasoline.
“But in all seriousness, what’s a little fun between friends?” Holden asks as he reaches for some sunscreen that’s sitting on the coffee table.
Friends? I’m not sure if that’s really the case. I just met him and his ass, and he seems…perhaps Devon was right. Holden seems a little dangerous, that butt luring me away from any and all common sense.
I uncap the bottle of water and chug some of it down, feeling a little better when the cool water hits my throat.
But then my mouth dries up again when I catch Holden staring at me, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
“Oh, you are a surprise,” he whispers, that lip now wet and swollen. “They don’t make men like you anymore. And they certainly don’t ship them to this island.”
Not sure what that means. There are plenty of guys just like me in South Dakota. All home-grown, corn-fed, blue-collar guys.
I belong on this island like a shark in a swimming pool.
“I saw you checking out my ass earlier,” he says, shifting and making my eyes snag on his tiny red swim trunks. They ride up so far I can see his balls and cock bunched up beneath the fabric. “Would you like a better look?”
My eyes snap up to his, my hand clenching on the water bottle so tightly that some dribbles out the top.
“A better look?” I croak.
“At my ass,” he says and then tosses the sunscreen on the cushion beside me and stands up.
He glances at me for just a second before he bends over, that fabric stretching over his butt and riding up his crack.
A small whine escapes me because I’m so fucking confused. And so is my dick. God, I did not come here for a sexual awakening. I mean, I don’t think I did. Did I?
“You can touch it,” he says, his hands pressed against the coffee table. He shimmies his hips a little, and I let out a shaky exhale because there is no way I am going to touch it. I don’t do shit like this. But even as I say it in my head, I see my hands reach up and land right there on his cheeks. Traitorous fuckers.
Holden lets out a small sigh as I squeeze them in my hands, my thumbs moving in circles as I feel him up.
“It’s nice, right?” he asks, his voice a little breathless, and I just nod. Not that he can see me with his chin tucked into his chest.
“Want me to take these off?” he asks, and I just gulp. It’s loud. He can surely hear it, how nervous this is making me.
“Or you could do it,” he adds, and I lose the ability to breathe.
“I’m not gay,” I whisper, and Holden chuckles.
