Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

WESTON

The soft brush of lips against my cheek pulled me from slumber, morning stubble tickling my ear. “Merry Christmas, sleepyhead,” a voice whispered.

I blinked awake, grogginess giving way to a warm smile as I took in Easton’s face mere inches from mine. His hazel eyes sparkled behind those adorable black-framed glasses, a shy grin playing on his lips.

“Merry Christmas,” I murmured, reaching up to run my fingers through his dark hair. It was longer on top, just begging to be touched.

He leaned into my touch, a contented sigh escaping him. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” I admitted. “Though I’m pretty sure that’s your fault. You wore me out last night.”

A rosy blush bloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t look away. If anything, his gaze grew more intense. “No regrets?”

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at my heart. I cupped his face in my hands, thumb tracing his jawline. “Not a single one. You?”

He shook his head, nuzzling against my palm. “It felt... right. Natural.”

“Yeah.” I breathed deep, marveling at how perfectly we fit together, like two halves of a whole finally united. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do this.”

His soft lips quirked up. “Better late than never?”

I laughed, pulling him closer. “Much better. Though I think it would be in both of our best interests if we spent the rest of this trip making up for lost time.”

His eyes widened slightly at that, but there was heat there too. “Is that so, Mr. Holt?”

“You’d better believe it, Mr. Beckett,” I growled playfully, rolling us so he was beneath me. I peppered kisses along his neck, reveling in the soft gasp it elicited. “Starting right now.”

As I captured his mouth in a searing kiss, I marveled at how this shy bookish boy I’d known my whole life could set me aflame with a single touch.

His fingers tangled in my hair, his body arching up to meet mine. “West.” He breathed my name like a prayer on his lips. “Wait.”

I reluctantly pulled away, my heart racing and my cock crying out for me to keep going. “Why? What’s wrong?”

His eyes lit up, excitement dancing across his features. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s Christmas morning. Don’t you want your present?”

I couldn’t help but admire the way the morning light played across his bare shoulders, highlighting the gentle curve of his neck. “I thought you were my present.”

“Well, let’s open the ones we brought from home now and maybe later, I’ll let you unwrap me,” he offered in a sultry tone that made my toes curl. Who would have thought shy book-loving Easton Beckett could be such a tease? I grinned, rolling off him and sitting up.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. Let’s see what Santa brought.”

Easton slipped out of bed, padding over to his suitcase. I admired the view of his toned backside as he bent to retrieve a small wrapped package. When he turned back to me, his eyes raked over my body, a hunger there that made my breath catch.

“Here,” he said softly, handing me the carefully wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, West. Remember, this is just something little. You’ll get the rest of your gifts when we get home.”

“I’m sure I’m going to love whatever it is,” I assured him. As I tore away the paper, my breath caught in my throat. It was a framed photo of us from childhood, gangly pre-teens with gap-toothed grins, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

“East,” I whispered, tracing the edge of the frame. “This is...”

“Do you remember that day?” he asked, a hint of shyness in his voice. “It was right after your big game. You scored the winning goal, and I?—”

“You were there cheering louder than anyone,” I finished, memories flooding back. “Even though you hated sports.”

He ducked his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I didn’t hate them when you were playing.”

I swallowed hard, overcome with emotion. “This is incredible. Thank you.” I pulled him into a tight hug, breathing in his familiar scent. “I can’t believe you kept this all these years.”

He shrugged, but I could see how pleased he was. “Some things are worth holding onto.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, reaching for my own gift. “Your turn.”

I handed him a package, watching as he carefully unwrapped it to reveal a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with intricate designs.

“Oh wow!” he said on a breath, running his fingers over the supple leather. “It’s beautiful.”

“Open it,” I urged, suddenly nervous.

Easton flipped open the cover, his eyes widening as he read the inscription I’d penned inside. “‘For all the stories you’ve yet to tell, and the dreams you’ve yet to chase. I can’t wait to be part of them all. Love, West.’“

His eyes, when they met mine, were shining with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.

I took his hand in mine, squeezing gently. “You’ve always had the most incredible imagination, East. I want you to fill these pages with your own stories, your hopes, your wildest dreams, anything you want. And I want to be there, cheering you on every step of the way.”

He launched himself at me, nearly knocking us both off the bed as he wrapped his arms around my neck. “Thank you,” he murmured against my skin.

As I held him close, I realized that this—this moment, this feeling—was the real gift. And I was never letting it go. “So, what do you say we get some breakfast then head down to one of the lounges? I heard they’re playing Christmas movies all day,” I suggested.

Easton’s face lit up. “Really? That sounds perfect.”

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of cream cheese stuffed French toast, fresh fruit slices, and bacon then made our way to the ship’s main lounge, our fingers intertwined. The space was transformed into a cozy winter wonderland, with colorful lights and garlands adorning every surface. A massive screen dominated one wall, currently showing It’s a Wonderful Life .

“Oh, look!” Easton exclaimed, pointing to a popcorn machine in the corner. “Want some?”

I nodded, inhaling deeply. “Mm, nothing beats that buttery smell.”

We settled onto a plush loveseat, Easton curling into my side as if he’d always belonged there. As the familiar story unfolded on screen, I found myself paying more attention to the warmth of his body against mine, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

“This is nice,” I murmured, my lips close to his ear.

He hummed in agreement, snuggling even closer. “It’s perfect,” he whispered back. And as Jimmy Stewart’s George Bailey rediscovered the magic of his life, I realized I was experiencing a little Christmas magic of my own.

I couldn’t resist trailing my fingers along Easton’s arm, reveling in the goose bumps that rose in their wake. He shivered slightly, turning those hazel eyes on me with a mixture of amusement and desire.

“West,” he whispered, a hint of playful warning in his voice. “We’re in public.”

I grinned, unrepentant. “Can’t help it, East. You’re irresistible.”

He blushed, burying his face in my shoulder. “You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled, but I could feel his smile against my skin.

As the movie switched over to one of our favorites, Home Alone , we fell into our usual banter, quoting lines and debating plot points. It felt so natural, so right, that I almost forgot we were surrounded by other passengers.

“Hey,” I said softly, during a lull in the dialogue. “Is it weird that I can’t seem to keep my hands off you?”

Easton’s eyes widened behind his glasses, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Weird? No. Flattering? Definitely.”

I chuckled, pulling him closer. “Good, because I don’t think I could stop if I tried.”

As the afternoon faded into evening, we reluctantly left our cozy nest to prepare for the formal Christmas dinner. The ship’s grand dining room was a sight to behold, decked out in elegant gold and crimson decorations. A live band played Christmas music softly in one corner.

“Wow,” Easton whispered, taking in the scene. “It’s like something out of a fairytale.”

I squeezed his hand, drinking in the wonder on his face. “You look pretty magical yourself,” I said, admiring how he looked in his suit and tie. All around us, couples and families were settling in at their tables, the air filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

An elderly couple to our left caught my eye, smiling warmly at us. “Merry Christmas, boys,” the woman said, her eyes twinkling. “You two make a lovely pair.”

I felt a surge of pride, wrapping an arm around Easton’s waist. For the first time, it didn’t feel like we had to pretend. “Thank you,” I replied, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

As we settled into our seats, I couldn’t resist sneaking looks at Easton. The flickering candlelight illuminated his features, emphasizing the perfect arch of his cheekbones and the warmth in his hazel eyes. I longed to reach out and touch him, to make sure he was real and not just a figment of my imagination.

“What?” he asked softly, catching me staring.

I shook my head, smiling. “Nothing. Just... you look incredible tonight.”

A blush crept up his neck, and he ducked his head shyly. “You’re not so bad yourself, West.”

Throughout dinner, we fell into a rhythm of secret touches and meaningful glances. Each brush of our hands as we reached for our glasses felt electric. Every time our eyes met over the rim of a wine glass, I felt my heart skip a beat.

As I watched him laugh at something our table mates said, I was struck by a sudden realization. This felt different. Not just from our usual friendship, but from any relationship I’d ever had. There was a depth here, a connection that went beyond physical attraction or shared history.

“You okay?” Easton’s voice broke through my thoughts, his hand gently touching my arm.

I nodded, covering his hand with mine. “Yeah, I’m great. Just thinking about how lucky I am.” The look in his eyes told me he understood exactly what I meant.

After dinner, we made our way back to our cabin, a charged silence hanging between us. As soon as the door closed behind us, Easton turned to me, his eyes dark with desire. “West,” he begged, and that was all it took.

I pulled him close, our bodies fitting together perfectly. My hands ran paths up and down his back as he tangled his fingers in my hair. Our kisses grew more urgent, more passionate with each passing moment.

“Tell me what you need,” I said against his lips.

He pulled back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. “You. I need you.”

As we moved together, shedding layers and inhibitions, I marveled at how natural this felt. How right. With Easton, there was no need for pretense or performance. It was just us, two best friends discovering a new dimension to our relationship.

I traced my fingers along his jawline, reveling in the way his breath hitched at my touch. I’d never seen him like this. Even the night before, he’d held parts of himself back, unsure. But he was different tonight—uninhibited, passionate, completely open. His confidence was sexy as hell.

He arched into me, a soft moan escaping his lips as I trailed kisses down the side of his neck. “Please...”

I grinned against his skin, enjoying this newfound power. “Please what? Use your words.”

His fingers dug into my shoulders, urgent and needy. “Touch me, West. I need you to touch me.”

I pulled back slightly, drinking in the sight of him—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, eyes dark with desire. “Oh, I’m going to touch you,” I promised, my voice low. “But first, I want to hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want, East.”

His breath came in short gasps, his pupils blown wide with desire. “I want your hands on me, in me. I want your mouth… everywhere. And then I want you to fill me with that perfect cock of yours and fuck me until I forget my own name.”

A loud groan tore from my throat. The raw honesty in his voice had my balls drawing up tight and my cock dripping like a leaky faucet. “Get on the bed. Now!”

Easton scrambled onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine as he settled against the pillows. I took a moment to drink in the sight of him—all lean muscle and pale skin, his cock standing proud against his stomach.

“You’re incredible,” I drawled, crawling up the bed to hover over him.

I started slow, teasing him with light touches and butterfly kisses. My fingers traced the planes of his chest, circling his nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. When I finally lowered my mouth to one, sucking and nibbling gently, he arched off the bed with a gasp.

“Fuck!” he shouted, his fingers tangled in my hair.

I grinned against his skin, loving how responsive he was to my touch. “Easy, babe. We’ve got all night.”

I worked my way down his body, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips. When I reached his cock, already leaking pre-cum, I paused to look up at him. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, his chest heaving. “Is this what you want?” I asked, my breath ghosting over his sensitive flesh.

He nodded frantically. “Yes, God yes.”

I took him into my mouth slowly, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. The salty-sweet taste of him, the scent of his arousal, it was intoxicating. I worked him with lips and tongue, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, teasing sucks.

His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. I pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at him. “Turn over for me, babe.”

Easton’s eyes widened, but he quickly complied, rolling onto his stomach. I took a moment to admire the view—the smooth expanse of his back, the gentle curve of his ass. I couldn’t resist placing a kiss at the base of his spine, feeling him shiver beneath my lips.

“Spread your legs for me,” I murmured, my hands gently guiding his thighs apart.

He complied eagerly, his breath coming in short pants of anticipation. I trailed kisses down his spine, pausing to nip gently at the sensitive skin where thigh met buttock. His whole body jerked at the sensation.

“West,” he whimpered, voice muffled by the pillow. “Please...”

I grinned, spreading his cheeks with my hands. “Please what?”

“Touch me,” he begged.

I couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit longer. “But I am touching you,” I murmured, my breath hot against his skin. “Where exactly do you want me to touch you?”

He let out a frustrated groan, pushing his hips back towards me. “You know where,” he whined.

“Say it,” I urged, my thumbs tracing lazy circles on his inner thighs. “Let me hear those filthy words spill out of that perfect mouth.”

“Ah fuck!” he moaned, part frustration and part raw, animalistic need. “Touch me with your mouth. I want to feel your tongue inside my ass.”

Hearing those words coming out of my best friend’s mouth was like a bolt of lightning shooting straight through me. My hand shot down between my legs, gripping my cock tightly to keep from erupting too soon.

“God, what you do to me,” I croaked. When I’d gained better control of myself, I bent down, rewarding his honesty with a long, slow lick from his balls to his hole. The strangled cry that escaped him sent shivers down my spine. I dove in eagerly, alternating between broad strokes of my tongue and teasing circles around his rim.

Easton was coming apart beneath me, his hips rocking back against my face as he gasped and moaned. I reveled in every sound, every twitch of his body. My hands gripped his hips, holding him steady as I worked him open with my tongue.

“I need more. Give me more,” he whimpered, his voice cracking.

I pulled back, admiring my handiwork. His hole was pink and glistening, clenching around nothing. “You’re so fucking sexy,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. “So open and ready for me.”

I reached for the lube on the nightstand, coating my fingers generously. Slowly, I pressed one finger inside him, marveling at the tight heat. He hissed at the intrusion, his body tensing slightly.

“Relax, baby,” I soothed, my free hand stroking his lower back. “I’ve got you.”

Easton took a deep breath, his body gradually relaxing around my finger. I worked it in and out slowly, letting him adjust to the sensation. When I felt him start to push back against me, I added a second finger, scissoring them gently to stretch him further.

“Oh god,” he moaned, his face buried in the pillow. “That feels so good.”

I curled my fingers, searching for that special spot inside him. When I found it, his whole body jerked, a strangled cry escaping his lips. “There it is,” I murmured, rubbing over his prostate in slow circles.

He was writhing beneath me now, fucking himself back on my fingers. “Please, West,” he begged. “I need you inside me.”

I could barely contain myself at Easton’s desperate plea. Seeing him like this—flushed, needy, begging for me—was almost more than I could handle.

“Shh, I’m right here,” I assured him, pressing a kiss to his lower back as I slowly withdrew my fingers. “Turn over for me, baby. I want to see your face.”

He rolled onto his back, his eyes dark with desire as they locked onto mine. I grabbed a condom, slid it down my length, and positioned myself between his legs, my heart pounding with anticipation. “You ready?” I asked softly, running my hands along his thighs.

He nodded eagerly. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

I lined myself up, pushing forward slowly. The tight heat of him enveloped me inch by inch, drawing a low moan from deep in my chest.

Easton’s eyes were squeezed shut, his chest heaving as he adjusted to the fullness. I held still, letting him set the pace. After a moment, his eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with an intensity that took my breath away.

“Move,” he whispered, his hips shifting slightly. “Please, West. I need you to move.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I started with slow, shallow thrusts, watching his face for any signs of discomfort. But there was only pleasure there, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp with each roll of my hips.

“More,” he demanded, his legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper. “Harder.”

I picked up the pace, driving into him with more force. The room filled with the intoxicating scent of sex and the sounds of our passion—skin against skin, breathless moans, and whispered endearments.

I angled my hips, searching for that spot that would make him see stars. When I found it, he cried out, his back arching off the bed. “There!” he gasped. “Right there, don’t stop!”

I maintained the angle, pounding into him relentlessly. Easton was falling apart beneath me, his hands clawing at my back as he met me thrust for thrust. The sight of him—flushed and sweaty, lips parted in ecstasy—was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I panted, leaning down to capture his lips in a messy kiss. “So perfect.”

He whimpered against my mouth, his body trembling beneath me. I could feel the tension building in him, knew he was close. “Let go, baby,” I urged, reaching between us to wrap my hand around his cock. “Come for me.”

With a strangled cry, he came undone. His body clenched around me as he spilled over my hand and onto his stomach. The sight of him lost in ecstasy, combined with the pulsing pressure around my cock, sent me tumbling over the edge after him. I buried my face in his neck as I came, his name a reverent whisper on my lips.

For several long moments, we lay there, tangled together and gasping for breath. I could feel his heart racing against my chest, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. Slowly, carefully, I eased out of him, both of us wincing.

I went to the bathroom where I disposed of the condom and wet a washcloth with warm water. Carrying it back to the bed, I gently cleaned him up then tossed the washcloth onto the floor before climbing back into bed.

He yawned as I pulled the blankets over us and tucked him into my side. I gazed into his sleepy eyes, still marveling at the intensity of what we’d just shared. “That was...”

“Incredible,” he finished, a shy smile playing on his lips.

I nodded, pulling him closer. “Yeah. Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. I could feel his heartbeat gradually slowing, matching the steady rhythm of my own.

Easton’s breathing had started to even out, his body relaxing further into my embrace. The room was bathed in the soft silvery glow of moonlight sneaking in through the window. His eyelids fluttered, fighting against the pull of sleep. “West?” he murmured, his voice thick and drowsy.

“Yeah, babe?” I whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

He snuggled closer, his lips brushing against my collarbone as he spoke. “I love…”

His voice drifted off, replaced with a gentle snore but I felt like I’d just had a bucket of ice water thrown on me. My heart hammered in my chest. Had Easton been about to say he loved me?

I mean, I knew he did. The two of us had said we loved each other for years, but that had always been in a friendly, brotherly sort of way. But I had a feeling this time, he meant it in a completely different way. The way you said it when you were IN love with someone.

I lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling as my mind raced. His warm breath tickled my neck as he slept peacefully beside me. How had we gone from best friends to this in just a few short days? And more importantly, where did we go from here?

The thought of losing Easton terrified me. He’d been my rock, my constant, for as long as I could remember. If we tried for a real relationship and it didn’t work out, not only could I lose my best friend, but also the only family who had ever given a shit about me.

As the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, I found myself still wide awake, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I carefully extricated myself from Easton’s embrace, padding quietly to the small balcony attached to our cabin.

The crisp morning air nipped at my bare skin as I stepped outside, leaning against the railing. The ocean stretched out before me, a vast expanse of deep blue kissed by the pink and orange hues of the rising sun, but I barely noticed any of it.

The thought of losing Easton, of things becoming awkward or ending badly between us, made my chest ache. He was more than just my best friend—he was my family, my home.

The idea of not having him in my life was unthinkable, the risk too much, the price of losing too high. With a deep breath, I turned back toward the room, steeling myself for what I was about to do.