Read Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four Online
Authors: Various Authors
Tags: #Don't Read in the Closet, #mm romance, #gay
up.” Dammit. I wasn’t in the mood for this.
Mike didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there with a
weird-ass smirk on his face until he finally said, “Here.” He handed
me one of the bags. It looked a lot like my bag. “That’s yours,” he
said and held up the other. “This one’s mine. Our flight leaves in an
hour, so we better get checked in.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smiled that sexy grin that had his eyes crinkling up and meant
he was seriously enjoying himself. I hadn’t seen that look in a long
time. “Can’t a guy surprise his man after fifteen years?”
I looked at the bag in my hand, then the one in his. “We’re going
somewhere?”
He handed over the ticket.
“Chicago?” I asked. Although it was a stupid question since I’d
read the destination off the printed ticket with my own name.
“Keep reading,” he said.
Another flight. “Hawaii?”
“A private resort on Lanai. We’ll get there after midnight their
time. We’re staying on the beach. Ocean breezes. Fifteen degrees
cooler than here. Should feel damn good.”
I wanted to comment on how much a trip like that must have cost,
but he was weird about money. His grandpa had left him a sum that
would keep him more than comfortable, but he liked earning his own
way. Besides, his family had stopped speaking to him when he’d
come out in his early twenties. He got a kick out of keeping the
money and not touching a dime of it. A private resort? On the beach?
Sounds like he finally found a reason to dip into the funds. Which
blew me away. I hadn’t thought there was a reason in the world why
he’d spend that money. I said, “I have court on Wednesday.”
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“We get back late Tuesday.” He stepped closer and spoke in that
voice he used when discussing something serious he thought I might
not like. “You need a break.
We
need a break.”
Had he said those words without giving me the ticket first, I
would’ve thought he was calling us quits. Even on the day before our
anniversary. “What are we going to do when we get there?” I asked.
The smile was back. “Now that’s a surprise.” He’d probably found
the one gay bar on the island. Which would be okay. He’d planned
something just for the two of us. Something different than the usual
way we spent our anniversary. I could live with one night out
surrounded by a slew of strangers.
I couldn’t think of anything to say, except… “Tony was talking
about the party tomorrow night.”
“Yeah. I told everyone to keep up appearances.” He laughed. He
was really enjoying this. “Come on. I brought you something to
change into.” The smile on his face grew with a shake of his head.
“That suit has got to go.”
****
working the resort’s front desk smiled at Mike while I stood a step
behind him holding our bags. It was late, and the lobby was empty,
except for the two of us and the clerk with the huge smile checking us
in.
Mike had a way with women. They always thought he was
coming on to them, and he didn’t bother explaining otherwise. Maybe
it was that bad-ass-tough-guy look he had going on combined with the
nicest-guy-you’d-ever-meet personality. He’d give the shirt off his
back (and a hell of a lot more) to anyone who needed it. Maybe that’s
what most women were looking for. Women usually knew what it was
they wanted. Me? I hadn’t a clue until I was so far gone in lust I didn’t
want to walk away, so I actually took the time to get to know him.
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She looked up our reservation and said, “One of our honeymoon
cottages. Excellent choice.”
Okay, she’d seen that I was with him, knew we were sharing a
room, so maybe she got that he wasn’t flirting. I stared at the back of
his head as he signed for the room. Not a room, though. A cottage. A
honeymoon cottage on the beach. Holy shit, he’d gone all out.
Once we were checked in, a young man led us outside. Mike
insisted we carry our bags. We just had the one each, and he never did
like someone else doing something for him he could do for himself,
even when it was an included paid service. We followed the man
down a stone pathway behind the back of the resort’s main building.
Seven-foot-tall torches lit the way, offering a view of the surrounding
foliage and small lighted ponds of colorful tropical fish. The trees and
shrubs were more exotic than anything I was familiar with. It all gave
the place a secluded feel. A second path veered off to the right, and in
another minute we were standing before the honeymoon cottage, a
small one-story building with dim lights already on inside, creating a
soft glow in the darkness of the night.
Mike tipped the young man and went inside. I stepped one foot in
and stopped in my tracks, dropping my bag to the floor beside me. I
was speechless. Across the room was a wall made of glass, a sliding
door with floor-to-ceiling windows on each side and curtains pulled
back to reveal the panoramic view. The door leading to the deck was
open and beyond the deck and white sand of the beach I could see it.
The ocean. Even in the dark of night it was a vibrant blue, clear and
sparkling under the moon’s rays. The waves rolling onto the beach
were hypnotic to watch. I walked straight for the doors and stared out.
The moon was high, and it lit the beach and the water far beyond in
the distance. The sound of the surf rushing in and out mesmerized me.
But the best part, the part I wanted to stand there until I could soak
it into every molecule of my body, and could also figure out how to
bottle it up and take it home with me, was the cool breeze blowing in
off the ocean.
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God, it felt great. Nothing like the stale, humid air in Ohio.
I could have stood there all night, watching the water foam as the
waves crashed onto the shore, the wind on my face, the curtains on
each side of the windows billowing out beside me.
Mike cleared his throat.
I forced myself to turn and look over the rest of the place. The
cottage was one large room in a tropical decor of blues, greens, and
yellows with hardwood floors and bamboo-style rugs. There were
windows on every wall, including a picture window above the bed’s
headboard. That one king-size bed was the focal point of the room. No
desk. No TV. Nothing to distract. A ceiling fan spun silently
overhead. I could see a full bathroom through the open door behind
Mike. The tub looked large enough for two. “This is…”
“What?” he asked as he tossed his bag on the chair beside the bed.
“Romantic.”
He smiled and looked around. “Yeah, I didn’t do too bad, did I?”
“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”
“What?”
“Romance.”
“Fucker.” He smirked, and a second later he came at me. In a rush
he took me in his arms and planted one hell of a kiss on my lips.
That was more like Mike.
He moved me backward out the open doors. “You need a shower.”
I pointed to the door on the other side of the bed. “That’s the
bathroom.”
“The ocean is this way.” He kept moving me until we made our
way across the deck. “Ever swim naked in the Pacific?” he asked.
“Never swam in any ocean, clothes or no clothes.”
“It’s about time we changed that.”
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“It’s the middle of the night.”
“It is,” he said. “Which means it’s officially our anniversary.”
We’d slept on the plane or I might have argued with him that we
were too tired to swim in the ocean at this hour, no matter how bright
the moonlight. Hell, even without the sleep I wouldn’t have said
anything. He was being romantic. A moonlit anniversary swim with a
naked, romantic Mike. I wasn’t missing that.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sleep’s overrated.” I didn’t want to waste one
minute alone with him.
He raised my T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the wood
deck. With his tongue he traced the beaded tattoo that wound around
my neck and down my chest. He only ever made it a few inches along
that path. He moved lower to my pecs. I always got off on his lips and
tongue teasing my nipples. He knew it and used that to his advantage.
But it had been such a damn long time since he’d done so.
He straightened, took a step back, and stripped off his shirt. “Get
undressed.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice, and it wasn’t just because I’d been
dying to sit around naked for the past twelve hours. He lowered his
shorts to the deck, and I stopped with mine halfway down my thighs.
Mike was hard. Seriously hard, with a drop of precum lingering at the
tip of his cock. One kiss and a short suck of my nipple and he was
ready to pop. Maybe he needed this trip even more than I did.
Maybe he needed me — just me — more than our usual anniversary
party, more than I’d given him credit for. The relief washed over me,
and the muscles in my neck and shoulders loosened as if he’d just
given me an hour-long message. Guess it hadn’t been only work
making me so tense.
I expected him to bend me over a piece of the matching wicker
deck furniture, the table or maybe one of the oversize lounge chairs,
but he didn’t. He smiled again. I hadn’t seen him smile this much in
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months. He looked like a dope with the silly grin and his dick rock
hard. I didn’t care. It was a stunning combination.
“Race you,” he said, then jumped off the deck and ran onto the
beach stark naked, heading for the water’s edge.
“Asshole,” I called out as I kicked off my shorts and shoes. I
chased after him, laughing all the way to the water. He’d already
made it in waist-high by the time I got there. He splashed me as I ran
in. I lunged at him, and he let out a huge-ass giggle as I wrapped my
arms around his chest from behind. A fucking giggle.
Wait. That hadn’t come from him. It was from me. His laugh still
sounded like a guy his size normally would. It sounded great. I
sounded like a kid running to get to the dodgeball first at recess.
Maybe it was the sound of pure joy.
I had every intention of dunking him under the water, but I gave
up on that idea. I couldn’t bring myself to end his laughter. Better to
cut off my own embarrassing sounds. I let go of him, dove under the
surface, and basked in the cool water that surrounded my heated flesh
from head to toe. The stickiness of the past twelve hours washed
away, and every concern and worry went with it.
Maybe I had been under too long. His large hands grabbed my
arms and yanked me up. “Come here.” He brought his lips to mine.
The stubble on his face was wet, and the water dripped to my chest as
we pressed closer together.
He grabbed the back of my head and parted his lips. So many
times we’d done this, a caress of tongues, the intensity building, our
cocks growing harder as our bodies surged together, as we shifted our
hips and found the rhythm that drove us both to the edge. But we’d
never done anything outside. We’d fucked year after year in front of
forty guys, but not once had he given me a simple kiss on the lips
outside of our place or a gay bar. Never outdoors where someone
might see. Never standing naked in the ocean.
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He backed up a few steps toward the cottage tugging me along
with him, never stopping the touches or the kisses until we reached
the water’s edge. He pulled me down to the sand until I was lying on
top of him. I braced myself, hands in the wet sand on each side of his
head, and lined up our bodies groin to groin. I stared down at him.
The wet hair on his chest shone in the dim light of the moon. The
muscles of his biceps flexed as he ran his palms down my arms. His