Page 47 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“Perhaps we can — try? If nothing else, it’d stop Francine trying to set you up with any more upright practitioners of the noble art of dentistry. Think of me as your armor against shit matchmaking.”
Arlo laughed. It bubbled up from his belly, filled his chest, then burst out of him, filling the night sky, and Lucian joined in.
“You up for a short climb?”
Lucian nodded, and Arlo pulled a thick blanket from the pickup, along with a heavy flashlight.
“A blanket? What kind of boy do you think I am, Mr. McDonald?”
“The kind of boy who likes to lie on the ground and look up at the stars. Come on.”
A short but steep climb along a clear track took them to a wide, flat ledge.
Arlo watched as Lucian spread his arms out and turned slowly.
“The stars are like diamonds scattered on a black velvet cloth.” He let his arms drop to his side. “Listen to me. I sound like I’m in a cheesy romance, going on about the starry sky.”
“I like cheesy romances. Come and lie down and get super cheesy.”
Lucian sniggered. “That sounds — delightful.”
“Just do as you’re told.”
“Yes, Sir!” Lucian dropped down next to him.
They sat close, but not touching, and a sudden engulfing shyness overcame him. Cuddling under the star-lit sky, kisses and maybe more. It was why he’d grabbed the blanket. They’d already crossed a threshold, so wasn’t it up to him to make the next move? Any kind of move? Instead, he felt as awkward as a teenager on a first date with big ideas and no clue how to carry them out.
“It was a song, wasn’t it?”
“What was?” Arlo jumped as Lucian’s clear voice razored through the air.
“Putting a blanket on the ground. My dad loved country music. He played it all the time when I was little. Who sang it? Tammy Parton? Or was it Dolly Wynette? I think I’ve got the names right, because—”
Arlo stopped him with a kiss, pushing Lucian down and onto his back. Lucian gasped, then sighed, and Arlo’s heart did the same as Lucian wrapped his arms around him.
The kiss was as dark and endless as the sky above them. Tongues twisted, fighting for dominance in the hot wetness. Lucian tasted of sweet caramel, the last thing they’d eaten as they’d sat in the park, but he tasted too of something so much better: he tasted of himself. Beneath him, Lucian whimpered and moaned, pulling Arlo closer as he pushed his hips upwards, his full, hard cock rubbing against Arlo’s own arousal.
Oh, Jesus… This was everything Arlo told himself he hadn’t wanted, hadn’t been looking for, but here, now, with this man, it was everything his body craved and his heart cried out for.
Arlo broke the kiss. Straddling Lucian, his arms supporting himself, his hands planted either side of his head, he stared down at the man who’d crashed into his life and was shining a bright light into the corners of all his dark places.
Lucian’s chest rose and fell, his breath coming in shallow, fast gasps. Moonlight fell across his face, picking out his swollen, damp lips, and his wide, dazed eyes which even the ugly glasses could do nothing to disguise.
“Why’d you stop?” Lucian panted, before he groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed—”
“No!” In the silent night, Arlo’s hard denial seemed to bounce and echo off the mountains. “No way,” he whispered, running his fingers through Lucian’s messy hair before trailing his fingers down the side of his face, brushing over the first signs of rough, dark stubble. Lucian moaned and pushed into his touch as he closed his eyes.
“So beautiful,” Arlo murmured. Lucian shook his head in denial.
“No, never been that. Too thin, too short, too—” Arlo pressed a finger to Lucian’s lips, stopping the steady flow of disparaging words.
“Yes. Beautiful. Inside and out. But there’s one improvement you could make.”
“A face transplant?”
Arlo tutted and tweaked Lucian’s nose.
“Ouch!”
