Namid

Namid

I don't normally believe in cheating, but Jayce is a couple of inches taller than me, so his arms are probably longer than mine and definitely more muscular. Plus, it really just sounded like fun to tease him.

I can hear him behind me; he's gaining ground already as we speed across the shop. I've never heard him laugh quite like this, never felt him this jubilant. I've never felt this way myself either. Light and weightless and elated, as if every moment is somehow more enjoyable than the last.

There is movement out of the corner of my eye, and then he's beside me, grinning over at me with a smile so wide and bright and happy it seems to light up the room. My first instinct is to push harder, propel myself forward faster. It turns out I'm far more competitive than I thought I was, and I fully intend to win this race. Then his eyes change; their bubbly sparkle is replaced by something that looks almost mischievous, a slight wrinkle appears on his forehead, and his lips curl up into a smirk. I don't have time to process the shift before he launches himself in my direction, wrapping his arms around me with a growl as he tackles me. He curls his body around mine, nearly crushing me in his arms, flipping us around as we fall so that we skid across the cold concrete using his back as a sled. When we stop a few feet away from the rollers, we're both breathless with laughter. Unflattering gasps and snorts escape us both as we cling to each other.

"Cheater." I nip at the thin line of exposed neck skin between his beard and the collar of his flannel.

"If you're unhappy with the results, you can always request a rematch."

"So you can tackle me again when you realize you're going to lose?" I scoff.

"There was some dust on the floor; you were going to hit it and crash. I was saving you."

"Ohhhh. Well, thank you for saving me then." I brush my nose across his jaw. "Can I request a rematch even if I'm happy with the results?"

His strong arms tighten around me, dragging me a few more inches up his body so that we're lying face to face, chest to chest, hips to hips.

"Anytime."

It's only half of a word. The second half is lost as his lips find mine.

I exhale a whimper and melt against him as his kiss deepens. Kissing has never felt like this. Touching has never felt like this. I could kiss him for hours and days and years, and it would never be enough. As his lips play gently against mine, it's hard to remember that our first kiss was less than twelve hours ago. Everything about him feels so comfortable and natural. He feels like home.

This kiss is different than our desperate, clinging need in my cabin this morning. This is slow, gentle caresses of lips and tongues, the soothing weight of his palms against my back, and the scruff on his jaw under my fingertips. It tapers off slowly and effortlessly until I'm simply lying against him, our eyes locked and tender smiles tugging at the corners of our lips.

"Come on."

He leans up to brush his nose across mine, and the overwhelming magenta and gold haze of joy that surrounds us both brightens further still. How is this really happening? Maybe I finally cried myself to sleep last night, and this is a dream. Maybe I'll wake up, and I'll be alone in my cabin, the smell of cigarettes and bourbon and the memory of a stranger's touch still on my skin. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to survive losing these moments if I wake up and find this has been a dream.

Lying on top of Jayce on the floor is exciting and new and sensual. The two of us scrambling to our feet together is something less than elegant, however, and we break into laughter yet again as we awkwardly shift our limbs and cling to one another as we both attempt to stand while simultaneously helping the other. It's like a chaotic, no-holds-barred game of two-person Twister. While I don't know how old I am, I was certainly an adult when I arrived, so neither of us is in our twenties any longer, and springing up from the floor isn't what it used to be .

Hand in hand, we make our way to the blankets Jayce has laid out and settle back to the floor with small groans that leave us smiling into one another's eyes at the shared experience of being in our thirties. I stretch out on my side, head propped up in one hand, while Jayce relaxes cross-legged on the other side of the board.

I grin as I pop a piece of cheese into my mouth.

"That's your favorite, right?"

It's not like the small supermarket that sells cheap work boots and often expired Twinkies is the epitome of gourmet grocery shopping, so as there are a few types of cheese laid out, I'd just assumed he'd basically picked up one of everything that wasn't generic mozzarella or mild cheddar.

My hand freezes, hovering above the board as I reach for a grape.

"You remember that? You were so lost that day that you couldn't even pick out your own cheese, but you noticed what I chose for you?"

He beams with pride.

"I guess some part of me knew even then how special you are."

My hand moves to nervously slick my hair back, and I can feel my pale skin blushing.

"Jesus, Jayce. Warn a guy before you say things like that."

He bends forward, picking up the grape I'd been reaching for, and leans over to slip it into my mouth .

"This is your warning that I'm going to say as many things like that as possible for as long as you'll have me."

The shiver that runs through me is visible as I wrap my hand around his wrist, holding him briefly in place so that I can kiss his fingertips.

"I plan to have you for a very long time."

When I release his wrist, a quiet sigh escapes him as he settles back into a seat, and I can't help but smile in pleasure at the fact that he seems as enamored with me as I've been with him for so long.

It's romantic and comfortable and easy with Jayce as we pick at the food he's laid out and talk about nothing the way we usually do when we're together. The fact that neither of us can stop watching the other and the waves of love and lust that course through us and fill the room are new, but I'm thankful to find that these thrilling additions haven't affected the easy contentment we've found in one another's company over the past few months.

We sit and eat and laugh for hours before we're interrupted by the storm raging outside. The glass windows that make up the shop's fa?ade rattle loudly enough that we can hear them from the mechanic's bay, and both our gazes shift to the front of the building even though the closed blinds prevent us from seeing into the waiting area.

I grin over at Jayce with as much lust-fueled playfulness as I can manage. "What do you say we head back to my cabin in case the storm ends up bad enough that we're snowed in somewhere for a while? We can use it as an excuse to stay in bed together all day tomorrow." It's not likely that we'll get that much snow in September, but I want Jayce to come home with me.

Jayce's sharp intake of breath is loud enough that it seems to echo around the bay. His lips part as if he's going to respond, but all he manages is a nod.

I'm nervous, standing in front of Jayce. There is so much to feel in this moment. So much emotion flowing wild and untamed - his and my own - combining and swirling around us. Jayce has already offered me so much, even though it's only been one day. So much bright, explosive love that I never thought I'd get the chance to experience. I don't want to feel it turn into fear. I don't want it to slip away.

I need to tell him before he sees.

"The way I feel…it's not the only way I'm different."

His smile is tender and loving as he stands in front of me. His pale-green eyes sparkle in the flickering firelight, drawing me in and holding my gaze. They glow blazing and bright and all-consuming in the best of ways, and the love that wraps around me feels like a supernova exploding inside my chest.

"I don't care how different you are."

His voice rolls down my spine, warm breath passing over my neck as he steps closer, and his fingertips find the tender skin of my belly under my sweater. I'm trembling and struggling to remember to breathe as flames leap across my skin where he's touching me.

"Can I?" His fingers curl around the bottom of the fabric that separates us.

I can only nod.

He steps back, pulling the shirt over my head and dropping it to the floor.

I shift my fingertips to his waist. I want to know what he feels when he sees me.

He reaches out to trace the patterns that I know are dancing across my skin in ways they never have before. I've watched them in the mirror as I've thought about him. I've seen the way the black is nearly overtaken by the bright swirls of color when I remember what it's like to touch him and the way he smiles at me, colors that look like those I've only ever seen in the winter sky. The tender brush of his fingers leaves my skin tingling in their wake, and the sensation drifts across my skin, sinking its way into my bones and my heart and my soul.

"What is it?"

He's not filled with fear or confusion or anxiety over the fact that he's never seen something like this before, over the fact that it doesn't seem…human. His voice is filled with wonder and awe and reverence, and the love that burns so bright and gold between us radiates out from his skin until it encompasses me completely .

"I don't know. The hospital assumed it was an elaborate tattoo."

For years after I was found, the intricate patterning that covers the skin of my chest and stomach and back in a way that looks almost like smoke was pure black. The tendrils reach and twist, covering the majority of my skin while still leaving patternless, organic sections pale and untouched. The first time I saw it shift was the first time I experienced the emotion of another so strongly that I'd been unable to hold it at bay. I'd sat in the shower and cried as I attempted to wash away the grief I felt that wasn't my own, and when I'd stepped in front of the mirror, the black seemed to shift, darkening in some areas, blinking brightly in others as if tiny stars glowed behind my skin.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He's looking at me as if I matter, as if he can't get enough.

His words swirl and embrace me, and then his lips are on mine. They're dry and cracked and so gentle as they play against mine. His palm is pressed to my chest, and I know he can feel the rushing raggedness of my heartbeat as his tongue brushes the seam of my lips and asks for entry.

He is everywhere. His hand slides down my skin until it's resting on my belly. Fingers trace along my chest as lips move across my jaw, and his chin is pressing my head back, exposing my throat to the tip of his tongue. It lingers there, licking and tasting and trailing downward. His mouth pauses against my collarbone, and he's sucking, pulling the blood to the surface of my skin until it burns before moving lower, down the center of my chest, tracing along the edges where black markings meet white skin.

My fingers tangle in his hair as I arch into his touch. I'm clutching him against me as his lips burn across my skin, and then he's on his knees with my hips in his hands and his tongue dipping into my navel. I'm panting and dizzy and hard, so hard, as he drags the back of his knuckles across the denim covering my cock as it strains toward his touch. His lips lift from my skin, and his head tilts back, and he's staring up at me as his tongue flicks into my belly button once more. The breath punches out of my lungs as my body trembles, and I clutch at his hair as if it might anchor me to the world.

"Is this okay?"

"Please."

It's all I want. He is all I want.

His fingers fly over the buttons on my jeans, and then I'm naked in front of him, and his tongue finds its way back to my skin. I want to watch him. I want to watch this beautiful man kneeling in front of me, touching me and tasting me as if he'll never get enough, but my head falls back, and my fingers tangle in his hair as he sucks his way across my hip and down my thigh and into the bend where my leg meets my torso and there is nothing else. Nothing but Jayce.

I'm trembling when he finally stands and settles his lips tenderly against mine. I want more. More of his touch and his taste and more and more and more. My hands drag his shirt off, and I'm pawing at his belt as we stumble toward my bed. My knees hit the mattress, and I fall back, my legs spreading around him as if he belongs between them with his body pressed against mine.

My arms wrap around his ribs as I pull him closer. His cock grinds against mine, hot and solid as my hips thrust against his, needing to feel him, needing him to feel me. He's luminous and brilliant, and I don't know which feelings are mine and which are his because they're so strong and so identical and so blindingly bright.

His face is buried against my throat, and he's whispering as I arch and whimper and shudder against him. He's whispering curses and praise and my name, and I'm panting and gasping for air that smells like cinnamon and sweat. His jaw is rough against my own, his beard scratching and burning the tender flesh of my neck.

Then he's moving.

He's moving, and his body is sliding along mine. He's strong and muscled and so much bigger than me, and the fur on his chest and stomach glides across my skin, somehow rough and silken at the same time.

My head falls back, and my fingertips clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. His name falls from my lips again and again, and he's making love to me, and it feels like nothing I've ever known. My heel digs into the back of his thigh as our cocks slide together, slick and tight between our bellies. His panted breaths against my shoulder are hot and loud, and he's the only thing I can hear. He's the only thing that exists .

He shifts his weight onto one forearm so that he can clutch at my thigh, his fingers rough and strong and bruising as he pulls me closer while we rock together. My body curls around him, and he's clinging to me as if he's afraid I might disappear, and there is only this. Only him. Only the feel of his skin and the scratch of his beard and his cock thrusting slick and hot against mine until I'm on fire and shuddering and crying his name into the darkness.

His teeth catch on the side of my neck with a gasp, and he's trembling in my arms as heat spreads between our bellies.

I'm falling.

I'm falling over the edge of a cliff, but he's holding me tightly, and I'm safe, and I'm loved, and he is ecstasy. He is everything I didn't know I ever wanted.