His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,88

behind them, jeans puddled at his ankles that he kicked to one side, stripping out of his underwear and socks as he took the last few steps backwards, his face in complete shadow until he reached the bunk under the portholes. Rob turned away to climb onto the larger sleeping space Jude had spent the afternoon rebuilding. Flat on his belly with one knee drawn up, and marbled by moonlight, he looked as good as when Jude first found him, his first night back in Cornwall.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Jude said.

If there were obstacles in his way, he didn’t notice, the stacks of tables and chairs simply not registering, nor the pile of boxes from his dad’s study. Getting to Rob as fast as he could was Jude’s entire motivation. He finished unfastening his belt one-handed, running the palm of his free hand from Rob’s ankle to the soft dip at the back of his knee. Then Jude used both hands to quickly strip out of the rest of his clothes, not caring where they landed. “You are,” he insisted. “So bloody gorgeous.” Rob trembled under his next touch, Jude stroking upwards from Rob’s knee to his thigh, another quiver coming as Jude reached the curve of his arse and said, “You’re perfect.”

Rob buried his face in his pillow, the of-course-I-am retort that Jude more than half-expected strange in its absence, and only the stagger of a ragged inhale audible as Jude caressed his backside. Maybe the increased spread of Rob’s legs was a clue to his rare silence, Jude wondered, the tight bunch of his biceps another as Jude traced the divide between his cheeks with the tip of a finger. “Do you want me to…?”

Rob nodded and said, “Fuck me.”

Jude joked, saying, “So romantic,” pleased that Rob let out a huff sounding much closer to laughter.

“That’s better.” Jude ran his hands up from Rob’s behind to the wide span of his shoulders, tugging there until Rob turned over, even lovelier from this perspective. “Stop trying to make me hurry.” The only rush Jude felt right then was amazement that he got to have this, and the Anchor booked for the whole summer. Lou being so happy after working hard for so long was a bonus, and Trevor’s postcards were a true gift, bringing all of them closer to real closure. This—here—was the start of a whole new chapter, a second chance to live instead of existing while searching for forgiveness it turned out he’d never needed. No way was he going to rush this, not when far from being an entitled nuisance, Rob was the reason for everything good that had happened.

Jude knelt on the bunk he’d rebuilt and wrapped a hand around Rob’s ankle, lifting it to cup his heel in one palm, the thumb of the other rubbing a firm line along its arch.

“You got a thing about feet?” Rob sounded vaguely aghast.

“I’ve got a thing about you.” And yes, even shadowed, there was the start of the smirk that drove him wild before he knew it was Rob’s version of foreplay that extended into a real smile when Jude asked, “Did I tell you that part of the deal with the yacht charter business involves doing whatever guests ask you?”

In the dim light, the jet of Rob’s eyes narrowed and turned beady. “Is this leading up to some kind of kinky role play?”

“No, it means you do whatever makes them happy.” He pressed the pad of his thumb into a spot on the sole of Rob’s foot that prompted a groan. “One of the first charters didn’t even want to leave the harbour. Drove me crazy at the time, when we could have been sailing closer to somewhere I needed to search.” He pressed another spot, and this time, Rob shivered. “Ended up escorting them around spas on land all week. You know how much people will pay to get a foot rub?”

“Nearly as much as I’ll pay for you to rub my dick right now instead?”

“I can stop.”

“Maybe in a minute.” Rob thrust his other foot into Jude’s lap. “Spas,” he said thoughtfully.

“So many spas. Those clients would pay for someone to put hot pebbles on them, mud, you name it. Then they’d want to sight-see, so I’d have to play chauffeur for them.”

Jude ran both hands up from Rob’s ankles as Rob murmured, “Guided tours,” under his breath, musing.

Jude shifted up the bed, Rob’s leg hair finer as he reached higher. “I nearly died