Page 21 of After Life
“Dear Diary,” he intoned, “I finally met a guy who likes it when I word vomit about my special interests.”
I laughed, reaching up to kiss his jaw. “Shut up, you prat.”
Julian poked my side, making me yelp, and reached past me to grab a carrot stick. “Do you think this place looks very different at high tide?” he asked suddenly.
I smiled, popping a cherry tomato into my mouth and watching the gray waves roll in as the tide changed direction. “I’m guessing that you saw something about Noonan’s Cove, and your thinky face was you comparing what you were seeing to what was written.”
He huffed. “I’m trying to be romantic here, damn it. Work with me. But yeah, a little.”
Laughing, I leaned in for a kiss, tasting the tang of red grapes on his tongue as he deepened the embrace. The quiet of the cove, the absolute lack of anyone demanding our time or attention, was a heady combination, damn near an aphrodisiac. As I pulled away from the kiss, Julian made a small noise of protest that turned into pleased surprise when I knelt on the hard sand, pushing his legs gently apart. “This isn’t exactly private,” he whispered.
“It’s private enough for now.”
“Fuck.”
“We’ll see how the day goes.” I laughed, helping him fumble his trousers open, nudging his hands away to pull out his hardening cock myself. “Let me,” I urged when he reached down to hold himself. “Just let me, alright?”
He nodded, leaning back on his hands as I took him into my mouth. It wasn’t the most elegant of blowjobs—despite my outward bravado, I had no illusions about the fact we were in public, and the little cove wasn’t exactly the best kept secret on the island. Julian gasped as I sucked just the head of his cock, tracing my tongue along the seeping slit before taking him deeper, slipping my fingers into his pants to cup his balls, making him lean further back, silently asking me for more. I was only too happy to oblige, angling to take more of him in, and more still, until the coarse curls at the base of his cock were brushing my chin.
“Christ, Oscar,” he breathed. “This is going to be really embarrassing soon. Just... oh, god, more. Please.”
And because I am a very obliging sort, I did just as he asked. Julian did his best to bite back his gasps and cries as I did my best to make him fail in that endeavor. The slick salt bitter taste of him on my tongue sent a sharp spike of arousal to my own aching cock and I knew if I didn’t take matters in hand soon, I’d either have the very worst case of blue balls or embarrass myself and have to walk back to the house with sticky, cold trousers and pants. Which might be a little hot, but I tabled that thought for another time. Right now, I wanted to come, and I knew Julian was close. When he realized that I had pulled myself out of my trousers and was stroking myself in time with my tongue on his prick, he made a deliciously pained sound, tangling his fingers in my hair with barely a gasp of warning.
Feeling the warm burst of release on my tongue set me off, and I groaned around him, feeling his prick pulse and thicken in my mouth as I spent on the sand, not stopping until I was too sensitive to bear another stroke, until Julian hissed and gently pushed me away from cleaning his spent cock with my tongue.
We righted our clothing, and I climbed back up to sit beside him again, both of us catching our breath as the water crept closer and our food sat forgotten between us. “Well,” he said after several minutes. “That wasn’t the picnic I had in mind, but I think I prefer it to the cold cuts.”
I snorted, reaching for the little bowls of vegetables as Julian scooped up the drinks and plastic ware.
“Not very filling though, was it?” I teased.
“I didn’t hear any complaints a few minutes ago.”
I grinned. “And you won’t. Ah, shit, my shoes are wet!”
“Damn it, okay, come on, let’s get going before we’re completely waterlogged.”
WE MADE IT BACK TO Honey Walk just as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. It wasn’t the hurricane but some outer band of storm, the advance guard promising more later. We’d just ducked into the foyer when Sandra came barreling out of the kitchen, making a beeline for Julian. “Doctor Weems, may I have a moment of your time?”
“We’re busy,” Julian replied curtly. “Maybe later.”
“I see. Well. I’d like to apologize for my earlier demeanor regarding your potential guest lecturing position and...” She paused, sniffed, glanced away. “I’d like to request your opinion on a monograph I’m working on. It’s in a rather delicate stage and as you are an expert on mortuary practices in early American settlements, I thought, perhaps...”
Julian made a flustered sound and looked askance at me. I hesitated, then shrugged. “Go on then,” I said. “You want to do it, go for it.” I wanted to remind him that this romantic getaway was his idea, and maybe our ideas of romance differed but mine did not include being ignored for the sake of academia. Being in my feelings about that job offer of his wasn’t going to help either one of us though so I swallowed it down for the time being and gestured to the stairs. “I owe Ezra a call, anyway. I’ll be back down later.”
Julian started to reply but Sandra took his elbow and tugged him toward the library. “I found your paper on intentional saponification of the dead via burial practices in—”
“Godspeed,” I muttered as he library door closed behind them, and I headed for our room.
Ezra answered on the third ring. “Oscar!” he cried. “I flashed someone for beads and it’s not even Mardi Gras!”
“I think our next episode is going to be investigating the ghost of your liver seeking vengeance for the cruelties visited upon it in life.”
“Aw, you love me,” he sing-songed. “And I’m not drunk. Just well lubricated and in a good mood. Harrison took me to this place that sells pralines. Just pralines. So many kinds of pralines.”
“Never mind your liver,” I muttered. “It’s your pancreas that’ll haunt you. I take it you’re having fun though?”
“Mmm hmm. It’s been wonderful. Even when I’m sober.” He laughed. “We’ve been to a few museums in the area, and a cruise on the river in an actual paddle wheeler. Harrison’s got some conference call he can’t get out of so he’s out on the balcony now but I’m on the bed and oh my god my feet hurt.” He paused for breath, then sighed. “How’re you, Oz? I must admit, I was a bit disappointed in your lack of texting, but Harrison’s been keeping me distracted so I forgive you.”
