Page 48 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
Jonty let out a tremulous sigh.
“You know that, right?” Devan asked. “You understand what I’m saying, because it’s not even fair to kiss you if you think this will go anywhere.”
He ran his finger over Jonty’s mouth and Jonty wanted to bite it. Hard. Chomp down.Make you bleed!Devan was lucky he didn’t. He also wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he didn’t do that either.
So much for getting carried away in the moment.
So much for romance.
So much for hope.
But Jonty had some pride. “Is this a conversation you have before you dance someone into a club toilet? Or persuade a guy out of a pub into a quiet alley?” Jonty kept his voice level. “I don’t think so.” Except, in saying that, had he implied that was all this was?Shit!Now he was confused.
“I really don’t want you to get hurt.”
And those words undid him. Caring demolished his barriers. How much did he want Devan to kiss him? A lot.Oh God. One kiss. That’s all. But…He had his very ownbut. But I might want more, so what then?Was Devan going to run?
He couldn’t think. Well, not about anything sensible. His cock was doing all the thinking. It was full of…thoughts. Almost bursting with them.
“Kiss me,” Jonty whispered.I’ll change your mind. I can. I know I can.“Please. I’ve never asked anyone before.”
Devan moved closer until their lips were centimetres apart, air moving from one mouth to another.
“You smell sweet,” Devan whispered.
“Be grateful I’m addicted to Flakes and not pickled onions.”
“Jester! Jester! Get back here.”
The screeching voice drove them apart. Devan sat up just before a golden retriever launched itself at Jonty, pinned him down and licked his face.
“Oh God, I am so sorry.” A woman came over the dune holding a lead. “Jester! Jester!”
Jonty couldn’t stop laughing. Every time he tried to push the dog aside, it thought Jonty was playing and renewed its attempts to keep licking. The woman hauled the dog off by its collar and clipped on its lead.
“Bad dog. I am so sorry. Thanks to my idiot son, he thinks anyone who’s lying down wants to be licked. Here, I travel prepared.” She handed Jonty a packet of wet wipes.
He sat up, pulled one out and cleaned his face. “Thanks.” He stood up and gave her the pack back. “Don’t worry. I like dogs.”
“He’s better behaved than he looks. It’s someone lying down that gets him excited. Sorry again.”
Jester set off along the top of the sand dune dragging his owner behind him and Jonty turned to smile at Devan. Except Devan had the wrong look on his face. Not frustration, or a desire to take up where they’d left off, or amusement at the woman’s comment. It looked too much like an expression of relief.
Icy dread crept up Jonty’s spine. A fire had been started, but Devan had thrown a bucket of water on it.
Jonty made himself smile. His first line of defence. “Come on then. See who gets to the bottom first.”
He started running, tumbled partway down it, and rolled the rest of the way. A bit like his life, full of hiccups. Devan made it down without falling and he held out his hand to pull Jonty up. Jonty didn’t take it.
Chapter Eight
PART OF DEVAN THOUGHT HE’Dhad a lucky escape. The other part of him was telling him he was a dick for thinking that, because he didn’t feel lucky. He’d been moments away from not just kissing Jonty but also getting them both off. He’d thought they’d be undisturbed in the dunes, at least long enough for them both to come. Knowing Jonty was bare-arsed in those jeans had fogged Devan’s head, filled his cock, and it had only just started to deflate. But the part of Devan that was telling him he was a dick wasn’t shutting up.
Kiss him!
“Do you want to turn and head back?” Jonty was unnaturally quiet.
You want to pretend we weren’t about to kiss?Jonty had his hands in his pockets and his head down.I guess youdowant to pretend.
