His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,64

hand coming up to touch his face was another. “You have to know how I feel about you.” He traced Jude’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb, his kiss fast and fleeting, his forehead resting against Jude’s again everything he’d ever wanted. “Pretty sure everyone in the Anchor does now, to be honest.”

“I wish…” The lump in Jude’s throat came from nowhere. “I wish I had a chance to tell them. About you, I mean.” Right now, Rob knowing this was all that mattered. “I would have wanted them to meet you, if…” That sentence had no easy conclusion. “I’d want them to like you as much as I do. As much as Lou does.” And it would have been easier, he decided, to have shown them who he was rather than tell them. “I’d give anything—everything—to have had a chance to do that.”

Rob kissed him then, once, twice, and then for so much longer as seagulls swooped around them. All he knew was that Rob felt so right in his arms.

Jude had felt underwater for so long, drowning. When Rob smiled at him, so happy, he finally broke surface.

23

Jude barely thought of anything else other than getting somewhere private as he left the Anchor behind and strode towards the boatyard, Rob’s hand tight in his. Guy Parsons could go hang for all he cared. The whole rest of the world could. The moment the boatshed door swung closed behind them, Jude stood close, arms around Rob’s waist and face tucked into the divot between his neck and his shoulder, breathing him in.

“Not that I want you to stop doing that,” Rob said breathless, laughing. “But they’re all still probably waiting for their dessert.”

“I’m not stopping you from going back to serve it.” Jude kissed the side of Rob’s neck, lips skimming south to north as Rob leaned into him, very close to clinging.

Rob’s next laugh came with a shudder. “Oh, I think that you are.” He gripped one of Jude’s wrists, pulling his hand down to where his cock was firming. “Any more of that and you’ll have to lend me your apron. Cover up what you do to me.”

Jude kept his hand where Rob had placed it, tracing what he wanted to explore when Rob had fewer clothes on.

“No, really.” Rob shuddered. His breath was so warm across the shell of Jude’s ear, his lips dragging as he added, “We have to finish what we started.”

“Yeah.” Jude wanted to finish as well. Finish all over Rob, if he’d let him. In him, if that was up for discussion. He walked Rob backwards, wanting nothing more complex than a mattress to stretch him out on.

Behind Rob, a tower of stacked chairs wobbled.

“Steady as she goes, sailor.” Rob kissed the hinge of his jaw, arms wound tight around him. “The door’s in the other direction.”

The door would do, Jude decided, turning Rob sharply enough that his breath caught, only for him to expel it in a huff. Jude pushed him up against it and tugged at the buttons of his chef’s jacket. There. Skin he could get his mouth on.

“Oh, my God.” Rob squirmed as Jude’s kisses turned to bruising sucks. “Anyone would think it’s been ages instead of only last night since you got off.”

It had been ages though; ages that he’d wished Rob wanted him even half as much as Jude had, dreaming of him while the Aphrodite bobbed beneath his back. “You wanted me too.” He was certain of that now where before he’d guessed Rob flirted with everyone the same way. A tremble under his palms had him checking. “You do now? Want me?”

“God, yes. But—” the sound of Rob’s head hitting the door barely registered, nor did the rest of his sentence “—we have to go back.”

There was no going back for Jude. No returning to the way he’d felt for so long—adrift, alone, and wishing so hard for Rob to lighten moments of almost complete darkness. Waiting for the sun to rise each morning to scour each new horizon for sails, or each beach for wreckage might have been more bearable with Rob beside him.

Jude yanked open more of Rob’s jacket buttons, annoyed that an undershirt hampered his exploration. Dropping to his knees made that easier, as did pushing fabric up from Rob’s waist to bare his belly. Following the path of hair from his navel to the waistband of his jeans with his lips was as simple as breathing, even if