Page 45 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

His strong arms tighten around me, dragging me a few more inches up his body so that we’re lying face to face, chest to chest, hips to hips.

“Anytime.”

It’s only half of a word. The second half is lost as his lips find mine.

I exhale a whimper and melt against him as his kiss deepens. Kissing has never felt like this. Touching has never felt like this. I could kiss him for hours and days and years, and it would never be enough. As his lips play gently against mine, it’s hard to remember that our first kiss was less than twelve hours ago. Everything about him feels so comfortable and natural. He feels like home.

This kiss is different than our desperate, clinging need in my cabin this morning. This is slow, gentle caresses of lips and tongues, the soothing weight of his palms against my back, and the scruff on his jaw under my fingertips. It tapers off slowly and effortlessly until I’m simply lying against him, our eyes locked and tender smiles tugging at the corners of our lips.

“Come on.”

He leans up to brush his nose across mine, and the overwhelming magenta and gold haze of joy that surrounds us both brightens further still. How is this really happening? Maybe I finally cried myself to sleep last night, and this is a dream. Maybe I’ll wake up, and I’ll be alone in my cabin, the smell of cigarettes and bourbon and the memory of a stranger’s touch still on my skin. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to survive losing these moments if I wake up and find this has been a dream.

Lying on top of Jayce on the floor is exciting and new and sensual. The two of us scrambling to our feet together is something less than elegant, however, and we break into laughter yet again as we awkwardly shift our limbs and cling to one another as we both attempt to stand while simultaneously helping the other. It’s like a chaotic, no-holds-barred game of two-person Twister. While I don’t know how old I am, I was certainly an adult when I arrived, so neither of us is in our twenties any longer, and springing up from the floor isn’t what it used to be.

Hand in hand, we make our way to the blankets Jayce has laid out and settle back to the floor with small groans that leave us smiling into one another’s eyes at the shared experience of being in our thirties. I stretch out on my side, head propped up in one hand, while Jayce relaxes cross-legged on the other side of the board.

I grin as I pop a piece of cheese into my mouth.

“That’s your favorite, right?”

It’s not like the small supermarket that sells cheap work boots and often expired Twinkies is the epitome of gourmet grocery shopping, so as there are a few types of cheese laid out, I’d just assumed he’d basically picked up one of everything that wasn’t generic mozzarella or mild cheddar.

My hand freezes, hovering above the board as I reach for a grape.

“You remember that? You were so lost that day that you couldn’t even pick out your own cheese, but you noticed what I chose for you?”

He beams with pride.

“I guess some part of me knew even then how special you are.”

My hand moves to nervously slick my hair back, and I can feel my pale skin blushing.

“Jesus, Jayce. Warn a guy before you say things like that.”

He bends forward, picking up the grape I’d been reaching for, and leans over to slip it into my mouth.

“This is your warning that I’m going to say as many things like that as possible for as long as you’ll have me.”

The shiver that runs through me is visible as I wrap my hand around his wrist, holding him briefly in place so that I can kiss his fingertips.

“I plan to have you for a very long time.”

When I release his wrist, a quiet sigh escapes him as he settles back into a seat, and I can’t help but smile in pleasure at the fact that he seems as enamored with me as I’ve been with him for so long.

It’s romantic and comfortable and easy with Jayce as we pick at the food he’s laid out and talk about nothing the way we usually do when we’re together. The fact that neither of us can stop watching the other and the waves of love and lust that course through us and fill the room are new, but I’m thankful to find that these thrilling additions haven’t affected the easy contentment we’ve found in one another’s company over the past few months.

We sit and eat and laugh for hours before we’re interrupted by the storm raging outside. The glass windows that make up the shop’s façade rattle loudly enough that we can hear them from the mechanic’s bay, and both our gazes shift to the front of the building even though the closed blinds prevent us from seeing into the waiting area.

I grin over at Jayce with as much lust-fueled playfulness as I can manage. “What do you say we head back to my cabin in case the storm ends up bad enough that we’re snowed in somewhere for a while? We can use it as an excuse to stay in bed together all day tomorrow.” It’s not likely that we’ll get that much snow in September, but I want Jayce to come home with me.

Jayce’s sharp intake of breath is loud enough that it seems to echo around the bay. His lips part as if he’s going to respond, but all he manages is a nod.

I’m nervous, standing in front of Jayce. There is so much to feel in this moment. So much emotion flowing wild and untamed - his and my own - combining and swirling around us. Jayce has already offered me so much, even though it’s only been one day. So much bright, explosive love that I never thought I’d get the chance to experience. I don’t want to feel it turn into fear. I don’t want it to slip away.

I need to tell him before he sees.

“The way I feel…it’s not the only way I’m different.”

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