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Scoffing, Ryley shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Slapping his hands together and rubbing his palms, Peter grinned broadly. “Oh, boy, have you come to the right place.” With a wink, he pointed at Ryley. “Okay, I have plans to go sailing with Pisces tomorrow, but the day after, I’m gonna have an impromptu barbeque. Come. Me and my friends can help you out.”
Ryley’s face turned a pinkish hue. “I don’t know,” he hedged.
“No excuses, or we’re comin’ to get you,” Peter declared, continuing to point at him. He started toward his own vehicle even as he called, “Day after tomorrow, Ryley.”
By the time Peter had reached hisCherokee, Ryley still hadn’t responded. He opened the door and stood on the running board. Peering over the top of the door, Peter gave Ryley a hard look.
Finally, Ryley nodded once. Then his coworker disappeared into his SUV. With a grin, still a little blown away, he slipped into his ride, more than ready to get home.
* * * *
As badly as Pisces had wanted to, he’d managed to keep his hands to himself the prior evening—mostly, anyway. After feeding Peter a dinner of pizza, hot wings, and cheesy bread—after his mate’s rough day, Pisces figured a little comfort food was in order—he curled up on the sofa with him and watched a movie. Pisces had seen his lover yawning, so it certainly helped him control his ardor.
Instead, Pisces had restricted their sexual activities to quite a bit of necking, followed by mutual hand jobs. After he’d cleaned them up, they’d cuddled some more. Peter had been out like a light.
After the movie ended, Pisces had put Peter to bed and managed to do the gentlemanly thing and hadn’t crawled in after him. He’d gone home.
It had sucked, but he kept reminding himself that he was meeting his mate the next day.
Now, the next day is here.
Pisces parked hisJeepin the marina parking lot. A couple of years prior, Peter had gotten into sailing. He’d bought a small boat and rented a slip.
While Pisces had never been sailing, he couldn’t wait to share one of Peter’s passions.
Grabbing his backpack, Pisces slung it over his shoulder and closed up hisJeep. He had absolutely no valuables in the open-topped vehicle. Pisces even had one of those radios with a removable face plate, making it useless to steal.
Striding down the boat ramp, Pisces swept his gaze over the myriad of boats filling the marina. He saw many different designs and sail configurations, and he wondered which one was Peter’s. Pisces also wondered what was the point of so many.
I figure if I say a sailboat is a sailboat, some enthusiast is going to have an aneurysm.
As long as it’s not my Peter.
With a chuckle under his breath, Pisces knew that thought wasn’t true. He had enough of a brain to know that different styles were used for different purposes. There were racing boats, sailboats, skiffs, and dinghies. Hell, anyone watching old pirate movies would recognize names like schooners, galleons, and maybe even cutters.
Pisces paused near the opening and tipped his head back. Inhaling deeply, he tried to pick up some scent of his mate. Unfortunately, with the light breeze, all Pisces smelled was the salty sea air.
Not that that’s a bad thing. I love salty sea air. I am a dolphin, after all.
“Hey, Pisces!”
Hearing Peter’s call, Pisces turned and spotted him on another part of the walkway. He backtracked a little before turning onto a platform that accessed that area. As Pisces strode to his waiting mate, he admired Peter’s handsome body.
Peter wore a pair of vibrant blue board shorts with a red tank top. His hair was covered by a floppy-brimmed hat. While his eyes were hidden by shades, he sported a large smile, which caused Pisces’s pulse to race within him.
When Pisces’s dick had the predictable reaction—starting to plump—he decided to check out the boat instead. The hull was black and maybe thirty feet from stem to stern. There was a single mast near the front where the sail was currently furled. The back space appeared roomy, and Pisces bet Peter had bought it with the idea in mind of being able to take out friends.
Lucky me. I’m that friend today.
“Permission to come aboard, captain,” Pisces teased, pausing on the dock beside the boat.
With a laugh, Peter nodded. “Permission granted.”
Carefully, Pisces climbed into the boat. He stumbled a little as it rocked beneath his feet. He quickly caught his balance and made his way over to Peter.
“Good morning, my mate,” Pisces rumbled as he slipped his arms around Peter’s waist.
