Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

EASTON

The cabin door clicked shut behind us, sealing Weston and me in our own little world. My heart thundered in my chest as I turned to face him, a thousand butterflies taking flight in my stomach. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm halo around his tousled blond hair, making him look almost angelic.

“So,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “here we are.”

His eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension. “Here we are,” he echoed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. This was it. The moment I’d dreamed of for years. My best friend, the boy I’d loved since we were kids, was standing before me, looking at me like I was the only person in the world.

“West, I—” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

He took a step closer, and I could smell the faint scent of his deodorant mingling with the woodsy scent of his aftershave. “East, you don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.”

I shook my head, determination coursing through me. “No, I want to. I really, really want to.” I pushed my glasses up my nose. “I’m just... I’m scared.”

Weston’s brow furrowed with concern. “Scared of what?”

“Of doing something wrong,” I admitted, my voice small. “Of messing this up.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, his fingers hovering just shy of touching my cheek. “Easton Beckett, you could never mess this up or do it wrong. Tonight, you can do whatever you want with me.”

In that moment, I made a decision. I was done being afraid. Done hiding. With my heart hammering against my ribs, I closed the distance between us, bringing my face mere inches from his. “Kiss me,” I said, surprising myself with my boldness.

Weston’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a grin spread across his face. “I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured, leaning in.

As our lips met, I felt like I was soaring and falling all at once. Years of longing, of quiet pining, culminated in this perfect moment. His arms encircled me, pulling me close, and I melted into his embrace.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless and flushed, I couldn’t help but grin. His fingers brushed against my cheek, his touch so tender it sent shivers down my spine. I leaned into his hand, savoring the warmth and reassurance it brought. His eyes, usually so playful, now held a depth of emotion that made my breath catch.

“East,” he murmured, his voice rough with feeling. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I am.” My heart was racing, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through me. This was Weston, my best friend since kindergarten, the boy who’d stolen my heart years ago without even realizing it. And now, here we were, on the precipice of something new, something terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Slowly, deliberately, his hands moved to the buttons of my shirt. “May I?” he asked, his fingers hovering over the top button.

“West, you don’t have to keep asking. I want this. Want you.” I breathed, my own hands reaching for the hem of his t-shirt.

We undressed each other with reverent care, each piece of clothing falling away like a barrier between us. I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the play of light and shadow accentuating every curve and plane. The compass tattoo over his heart, with its red E and W, seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, tracing the outline of the tattoo with my fingertip.

Weston caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “So are you. God, you have no idea how desirable you are. You’ve been driving me crazy in those new tight clothes and tiny swim trunks with that thin strip of hair peeking out over the top of your waistband.”

“Really? Me? I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

His eyes darkened with desire. “I always notice you. Always.”

His words sent a shiver through me. Unable to resist any longer, I sank to my knees before him, my hands resting on his strong thighs. I looked up at him through my lashes, seeking permission.

“East,” he breathed, his fingers threading through my hair. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” I assured him, my voice husky with need. “Let me taste you, West. Please.”

A groan escaped him as I took him into my mouth. The heady scent of his arousal filled my senses, masculine and intoxicating. He tasted of salt and musk, a flavor uniquely Weston that had me moaning around him.

I savored every inch, worshipping him with lips and tongue, relishing the weight of him on my tongue. I looked up, meeting his gaze as I took him deeper, and the raw desire I saw there made me shudder with want.

His fingers tightened in my hair as I worked him with growing confidence. His breath came in ragged gasps, punctuated by low moans that sent sparks of arousal through my body. I could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back, of not thrusting into my mouth.

He panted above me. “Fuck, you feel so good. But if you keep going, I’m going to?—”

I pulled off with a wet pop, gazing up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Isn’t that the point?” I asked, voice rough.

He chuckled breathlessly, cupping my cheek. “Not yet. I want to make this last. Want to make you feel as good as you’re making me feel.” He gently pulled me to my feet, his eyes roaming over my body with unbridled desire. “Perfect,” he murmured, his hands skimming down my sides.

He guided me backwards until my knees hit the edge of the bed. With a gentle push, I fell onto the soft mattress, my breath catching as he crawled over me. His body hovered above mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

He bent down, his warm breath sending goose bumps skittering across my skin as his mouth trailed down my neck. My hands traveled over his broad back, marveling at the play of muscles beneath my fingertips. Every touch, every kiss felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.

Bracing himself with his elbows, he pulled back, staring at me like a man who was starving, and I was his feast. I felt both exposed and incredibly safe under his gaze.

“You are so sexy. How did I never see it before?” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Says the guy who looks like he walked off the cover of a romance novel.”

Weston’s touch was gentle yet purposeful, his hands and lips mapping my skin with reverent care. I shivered as his fingers trailed down my sides, gasping when he found a particularly sensitive spot.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured against my collarbone, his voice filled with wonder. “So beautiful like this.”

I arched into his touch, craving more. “West, please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was asking for.

I gasped as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his breath warm against my neck. “If I do anything you don’t like, you have to tell me, okay?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My mind was a whirlwind of sensations and emotions, each touch igniting a spark I never knew existed within me.

“You have to tell me,” he insisted, his blue eyes searching mine. “I need to hear you say it.”

I swallowed hard, finding my voice. “Yes, West. It’s more than okay. It’s... everything.”

His smile was radiant as he continued his exploration, his fingers moving with careful deliberation. I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.

“Damn,” he said on an exhale. “The sounds you make... they’re driving me crazy.”

I laughed softly, feeling a surge of confidence. “Well, you’re the one causing them, so I’d say that’s your fault.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I’m just getting started, babe.”

He reached for the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before producing a small bottle and a foil packet. My heart raced as I watched him coat his fingers with lube then he knelt between my legs.

I clasped the back of my knees and pulled them up to my chest, exposing myself to his hungry gaze. “Fuuuuuck!” he rasped.

His touches became more intimate, his slick fingers tracing around my opening. I felt a heady mix of pleasure and longing coursing through me. It was as if every nerve ending in my body was hyper-aware of his presence, his touch, his very being.

He dipped a finger in, slowly circling it around my rim, and coaxing the muscle to relax. Carefully, he worked a second finger inside me. My body responded to his magic touch, the muscles loosening and opening for him like a flower blooming for the sun.

By the time he slid a third finger in, I was practically begging him to fuck me. “Please, West. I can’t wait any longer. I’m ready. I need you.”

He made quick work of opening the condom packet and sliding it on and then with agonizing slowness, Weston began to enter me. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and fullness. Our eyes remained locked, an unspoken promise passing between us.

“Oh,” I breathed, feeling a sense of completeness wash over me. It was as if everything in my life had been leading to this moment, this connection with Weston.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.

I nodded, cupping his face in my hands. “I’m perfect. You’re perfect. This is... perfect.”

As he began to move, I felt as if my entire world had shifted on its axis. Everything else faded away until there was nothing but us, joined together in the most intimate way possible.

I lost myself in the rhythm of our lovemaking, each movement filled with a tenderness I’d never experienced before. His eyes never left mine, his gaze intense and full of emotion.

“Oh God, East,” he said in a whisper, his voice husky. “You feel unbelievable. So hot, squeezing my dick so tight.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, but for once, I didn’t try to hide it. The sensations were overwhelming, pleasure coursing through my body in waves. I felt as if I was floating, untethered from reality, with only Weston as my anchor.

“This feels incredible,” I murmured, arching into him.

Weston’s lips quirked into a wicked smile then he shifted and began thrusting his hips in long, sure strokes. Every thrust hit my prostate with precision, every drag of his cock through my passage sent a tidal wave of sexual bliss throughout my body.

As our movements became more urgent, I could feel the tension building within me. The world narrowed down to where the two of us were joined, everything else fading away.

“West,” I gasped, feeling myself getting close. “I’m... I’m...”

“Me too,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Together, okay?”

I nodded, unable to form words. And then, like a wave crashing over me, my climax hit. I felt as if I was soaring, the experience unlike anything I’d ever known.

“Easton!” he cried out, his own release following mine.

For a moment, we stayed perfectly still, our bodies connected, our breaths mingling. I felt a sense of awe wash over me, marveling at what we’d just done.

As our breathing slowly returned to normal, he gently rolled to the side, disposing of the condom and tossing it into a nearby trashcan before pulling me to him. We lay there, limbs entwined, the stillness of the cabin broken only by the gentle sway of the ship.

I nestled my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

“You okay?” Weston murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet. The enormity of what had just happened was slowly sinking in. “East?” he prodded gently.

I took a deep breath. “I’m... I’m more than okay,” I finally managed. “I’m just... processing.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, me too. That was... wow.”

“Eloquent as always,” I teased, feeling a bit more like myself.

He pinched my side playfully. “Hey, you try forming coherent sentences after that.”

We lapsed into comfortable silence again. I marveled at how natural this felt, how easily we’d transitioned from friends to... whatever we were now.

“West?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He shifted slightly, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes “For what?”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “For... for being here with me, for taking me on this trip. For being you.”

His eyes softened. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

As his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep, I found myself wide awake, my mind racing. I couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for us, for our friendship. Was this a one-time thing? The start of something more?

I traced the outline of the compass tattoo on his chest, my fingers lingering on the red E and W. It had always been us, East and West, for as long as I could remember. But now... now everything had changed.

I snuggled closer to Weston, the warmth of his body a comforting anchor in the sea of my swirling thoughts. A soft smile played on my lips as I gazed at his peaceful, sleeping face. The moonlight filtering through the cabin window cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw and the slight part of his lips.

“Thank you,” I whispered, so quietly it was barely audible. Not to Weston this time, but to the universe, to whatever cosmic force had brought us to this moment.