Surfing with a Seahorse - Charlie Richards Page 0,19

Link nudged his shoulder. “Give you time to recover from Dickwad’s assholishness?”

Waylon knew his buddy referred to Richard. They’d taken to calling him that the day he’d told them that he’d dumped the bastard. Realizing he’d forgotten he’d shared that with his friends, he nodded.

He’s left me alone just like he promised.

Damn.

“Here they come,” Petey stated, tipping his chin in the direction of Jake and Colton. “Go get your man, Way.”

Just hearing his friend’s encouragement that he get his man, Waylon’s blood flowed south. The idea had a predictable reaction on his body. His dick thickened, which was damn uncomfortable in his wetsuit.

Link laughed, knocking his shoulder. “You look like you could use ten minutes.” He looked down pointedly as he patted Waylon on the shoulder. “We’ll grab Jake, and you can hit the head for something other than its intended use.”

Petey joined in the laughter as he added, “Have fun!”

Even as Waylon shook his head at the pair of yahoos, he joined them in heading toward Jake and Colton. Upon seeing Colton’s confused expression as they tromped through the surf, he hoped his friends were correct. Otherwise, Waylon would be damn embarrassed.

Link beckoned to Jake. “Come on, man. Waylon needs a sec with Colton.” After a wink, he added, “They’ll meet us for pizza at Luigi’s shortly.”

Jake glanced between them, then offered a wide grin. “Sure thing. See ya in a bit, guys.”

Colton leveled a questioning look Waylon’s way. Opening his mouth and lifting a brow, he started, “What—”

Waylon didn’t let him finish. Grabbing the back of Colton’s head, he yanked him forward. He slammed his mouth over the other man’s. Taking advantage of the fact that the smaller man’s mouth was open, Waylon thrust his tongue inside, finally giving in to his need to taste the man.

The flavor of saltwater mixed with something decidedly masculine burst across Waylon’s tongue. Delving deep, he growled, searching for more. As he teased along Colton’s appendage, for one horrifying second, he realized the other man wasn’t kissing back.

In the next instant, that changed.

Colton fed Waylon a groan as he gripped his hip with his free hand and pushed his mouth into Waylon’s own. Their boards bumped against their sides as Waylon used his hold on the other man’s neck to tilt his head and push deeper. His senses swam as his cock throbbed with need at just the tongue-tangle.

The sound of wolf whistles rent the air. Then someone hollered, “Get a room,” sounding amused. Unfortunately, for every understanding person, there was another who didn’t... and that person shouted, “Faggots!”

“Fuck off, asshole.” That was Jake’s voice, and he sounded angry.

Damn it.

Waylon eased the kiss to an end. After sparing a smile for a surprised and aroused looking Colton, he glanced around. Spotting Jake advancing on a red-faced man whose sneering visage glanced between them and Jake, Waylon hollered, “Leave it, Jake. That asshole ain’t worth it.”

“Yeah, walk away, cocksuckers,” the moron yelled, crossing his arms over his broad torso. “You all couldn’t take me and my buddies, anyway.”

A trio of thug-like brutes strode over to stand behind the loud-mouth.

“Knock it off. All of you!” a life-guard called from the tower. “If you can’t be civil, beat it.”

Waylon waved. “We were leaving anyway, Ned.”

Ned brightened. “Oh, hey, Waylon. Didn’t realize it was you. Congrats on the hot new boyfriend.” Snorting, he continued, “You were never meant for a stuck-up snob who couldn’t handle a little sand on his feet.”

“Figures you’re a fag, too,” the mouthy man stated, curling his lip. “Come on. Let’s leave this beach full of homos.”

At least the fight had been averted.

Turning toward Colton, Waylon led the way toward the changing rooms. “Come on,” he urged, holding his soon to be lover’s hand. “It’s time we talk.”

“Not sure I’m in the mood to talk,” Colton murmured huskily, clearly being honest. “But if you say so.”

Waylon laughed as he headed into a room and pulled Colton in behind him. After locking the door, he wrapped his arms around the man. “Thank you for your patience, Colton.” Waylon spread his legs and leaned against the wall, lowering his stance. “Do you still want me? Because I want you.”

He figured he should just lay it out there.

Holding his breath, Waylon waited for a response.

Chapter Seven

Colton let out a low groan. Knowing they were in the middle of a public place—even if they were behind a locked door—he knew being quiet was necessary. Still, with the scent of Waylon’s arousal flooding the small room, his