Page 53 of Grind
There was no other word for it. This wasmagical.
Frank smelled like heaven, Ezra could just about imagine that the sound of waves was real, and Frank must have used an air freshener in the cabin because the scent of pine hid any mustiness the old boat could hold.
Ezra wouldn’t have swapped this experience for cold hard cash. This was something you couldn’t buy.
This was care.
Tenderness.
Maybe even the L-word.
Enchanted, he placed the food bag on the floor and spun to face Frank, who stood right behind him, hunched forward to fit under the low ceiling and watching Ezra with anticipation, as if he worried there could be anything but enthusiasm coming his way.
Ezra wanted to kiss him. Hug him. Do unspeakable things on this floor. Celebrate this night. Just because.
“I don’t know what to say. This is… like something from a movie,” he said, spinning around to point at the interior.
“Just enjoy it,” Frank said and stroked his side. “I know I work a lot, so this is a moment for the two of us.”
Tall and built like a breeding bull, Frank did not look like someone with romantic tendencies, but of all the men Ezra had been with for a bit longer, he was the one who was most thoughtful and caring. His hands might be the size of bread loaves, but they felt like velvet when they touched Ezra, as if Frank infused every stroke with all the tenderness in his heart.
Grinning, Ezra slid his arms around Frank’s neck, getting to his toes as their bodies clashed. “This is so amazing, Frank! Who needs a yacht when you can have the magicalMS Junkyard?
“And the captain doesn’t even need to be at the steering wheel, so his hands are free to do other things.” Frank grinned and kissed him, sliding his hands down Ezra’s body, all the way to his ass.
Ezra loved being desired. And nobody had ever desired him the way Frank did—ready to put a lot of dedication and effort into making Ezra’s world a bit more colorful. And while the tokens of appreciation Ezra usually received were golden or green, in this moment, he longed for the whole array of shades on the blanket, and the warm brown of Frank’s eyes.
Inhaling their lust, Ezra grabbed the folds of Frank’s jacket and used the weight of his own body to spin them around before nudging Frank at the sofa, ready to climb him like a tree.
Frank chuckled, squeezing Ezra’s ass in a promise of the things he’d do to him. “No wine first? You sure?” he teased but was more than happy to reach for Ezra’s belt as soon as his ass landed on the sofa.
Ezra grinned, drunk on pure joy as he spread his arms in a dramatic swing. “You really want wine when you can have all thi—” He cut himself off when his arm knocked against something warm. He didn’t initially think anything of it, but then Frank’s face went rigid.
By the time he followed the dark gaze, one of the blankets was burning.
Ezra froze, but Frank grabbed his waist and picked him up as if he weighed nothing. “Out! Get out!” he yelled as he put him down by the stairs, already running toward the growing fire.
Ezra’s instinct was to help, but the space was tiny, smoke billowed toward him, and if anything, he might end up getting in Frank’s way. He needed to believe Frank knew what he was doing. On his way out, he looked back to see Frank open a bottle of soda. He poured it on the blanket, already coughing, and used the wet fabric to pat the flames.
Ezra stayed back, ready to drag Frank out if the fire ended up spreading, but moments later, the flames died, and Frank looked up at him, kneeling in the glow of the remaining candles.
A cold sensation tightened around Ezra’s chest, because this was the moment of truth, where things could go one of two ways, but he didn’t want to see Frank snap at him for ruining everything, not after sharing such beautiful moments, and spoke first. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Don’t be mad.”
He wasn’t sure if it was the smoke choking him, or the stress of what just happened, but it reminded him of that time when he was still a teen and made toast in the kitchen. He’d burned the bread, and the fire alarm went off during his dad’s conference call. Dad had come over with his phone, relieved there was no fire. He turned off the alarm and laughed about it to his colleagues. But as soon as the call was over, Dad smacked Ezra so hard, he hit his head on the counter and ended up needing stitches. It was fortunate that he could cover that scar with his hair.
Frank looked up at him as he put out all the candles, and his silence clawed into Ezra, keeping him still. They were here on their own, and if something happened, no one would help Ezra, no matter how loudly he screamed.
“It’s okay. You didn’t get burned, did you?” Frank asked.
Ezra made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and toast on the top step, trying to even out his breathing. “No,” he whispered, lost in this unexpected moment. He hadn’t seen his father for years, so why was he coming back to haunt him? “I’m really sorry. I messed up your surprise.”
Frank took a few steps up the stairs to grab his hand. “It’s fine, baby. The cheese didn’t even melt,” he said and laughed, easing the tension in Ezra’s chest. “But it’s smoky down there now. You stay up there, I’ll grab some untoasted blankets, and we can stay on the deck. We wanted to look at the moon anyway.”
Holding his hand felt like handling the most precious thing in existence, even though it was so big, and covered by skin that wasn’t as soft as Ezra’s. So he kissed it again. “Yes. Let’s stay out. I’m sure we can keep each other warm.”
Frank smiled at him and let go as Ezra’s heartbeat returned to its normal pace. “And we have booze to help with that too,” he said and disappeared under the deck to gather everything.
They worked together, with Frank passing him things from downstairs and in no time Ezra created a nest with a view of the moon over the forest beyond the junkyard’s fence. They even got the comforter from the bed for extra warmth.
