Owen

The moon was high in the sky, a cool breeze was blowing in off the water, and a choir of cicadas screeched in the distance. My body was spectacularly sated and my man was wrapped around me, still purring from the pounding I'd given him.

This life, it didn't get much better.

Drunk on that milky afterglow, I stared at Cole's blond hair and sun-kissed skin and willed myself to withhold the declarations of love and forever I itched to give him. It was too soon for any of that, and if he didn't enthusiastically reciprocate, I doubted I'd recover from the blow.

Instead, I dug into my plentiful stores of jealousy, asking, "What changed for you?"

"What? When?" he asked. His words were rough, his voice raw from hours of begging and moaning.

Lord, I liked that. I liked the marks I'd sucked into his neck, chest, thighs. I liked the beard rash between his legs. I liked the red, swollen shape of his lips. He'd be sore tomorrow, his body used in delicious ways, and I'd like that, too.

For as much as I enjoyed the evidence, I enjoyed caring for him more. Soaping him up in a steamy shower. Rubbing him down with thick creams and herby balms. Kneading his tender muscles. Kissing it all better.

I patted his backside. "You said you were slutty in college, but then you wind up in the Cove and you're a born-again virgin. What changed?" I asked.

"Mmhmm." He nodded, his scruffy chin scraping my chest. "I founded a technology firm, one that gained a certain amount of ubiquity. Most people think it's all about hatching a new idea and then watching the cash roll in, but that isn't a tenth of the truth. That new idea has to stay new, stay fresh. It has to evolve faster than its users, and it has to anticipate needs. Shareholders expect innovation but they also demand robust earnings. There are always disasters. Every day, a new crisis."

I nodded, but I didn't know what to say.

"And I've…I've made some mistakes," Cole said. "Years ago, when I was just starting out, I trusted someone. I shouldn't have done that."

I shifted to catch his gaze. "Who do I have to kill?"

Cole offered a weak laugh. "It's in the past. It doesn't matter now."

"The past has a way of staying present," I said.

"Especially when there's litigation involved," Cole said. "We were close. Friends, then lovers, and then he was an essential member of my team. He took confidential information about my business—about me—and sold it to the highest bidder." He blew out a heavy sigh. "I've had a few hookups since then but nothing more than that."

A surprised breath burst from my lips. I didn't know what I expected Cole to tell me, but it wasn't that. "Are you kidding me? Someone did that to you?"

"That doesn't even scratch the surface, babe." He shook his head against my chest. "This can't make much sense without the full context," he said. "Silicon Valley is a complex place, and my firm—

"Cole, stop," I interrupted. I wanted to know just enough, but not everything. "I understand what you're saying. You don't have to explain all the bits and pieces to me."

He tipped his face up, his brow wrinkled as if he'd misheard me. "I don't?"

I stared out the window for a long moment. When I was a kid, I believed all manner of sea monsters lived in the Atlantic's deep, cold waters. They were out there, swallowing up boats and fighting whales and sharks. In my kid brain, I convinced myself that I was safe as long as I could see the shoreline. Monsters never dared to enter the tidal zone.

That was how I felt about Cole, and the life he led separate from me. If we stayed on familiar ground, we'd be safe.

"You own a technology firm," I said.

"Fifty-one percent of it," he added. "My founding team and the shareholders own the rest."

"You own most of a technology firm," I started, "and a dickhead guy screwed you over. That's all I need to know."

Even after all these years working the water, part of me still believed in the great, unknown sea monsters. Beasts that would sneak up and strike without warning.

"Are you sure about that?" Cole asked.

"I am. I want Cole, the lost sailor. The man overboard. The guy who intrudes on my jerkoff sessions," I said with a chuckle. "Let's not muck this up with too much reality. Okay?"

Cole tipped his face up and stared at me, his lips folded in a tight line and his brows still wrinkled. For a second, I thought he was going to call me on my bullshit. Hold up my objections as illogical and unreasonable, and something I'd never accept if he tried to pull the same maneuver. But he pressed his palm to my heart, gave me a quick smile, and said, "Okay."

"Okay?" I repeated.

"Yeah, talking about corporate shit stresses me out," he replied. "I'd rather hear about you. Why hasn't some guy snapped you up? You're one helluva cook, you bathe regularly, and you have the baddest sex toy box. That's the full bear package right there."

I dropped my head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling while a soft laugh rolled through my chest. "Maybe I don't want to be snapped."

"Everyone wants to be snapped," Cole replied. "There's no one in the world who doesn't want it. We want it in different ways, at different times, but we still want it. Need it, even when we say we don't. We want to be accepted, cherished, adored. We want someone to recognize our messy, complicated souls, and love us for those messes and complications."

"Maybe," I conceded. "But some people just want to get fucked while they're on vacation."

"Are you talking about me?" Cole pushed off my chest and glared down at me. "You know I didn't even bring lube with me. I didn't come here expecting to get fucked."

I hooked my arms around his torso and returned him to my chest. "No, I'm not talking about you, silly boy," I said. "But you're not the first guy to spend the summer in Maine. Too many times, I've fallen hard for some pretty young thing, only for him to leave at the end of the summer without a backward glance. It's vacationland for them, and vacations never last."

Cole planted small kisses along my sternum, humming as he went. "I'm sorry, babe."

"They always went back to their girlfriends, too," I grumbled.

"I hate them," he hissed. "They didn't deserve you, or your gold-medal dick."

I wrapped my arms around him as a laugh rocked through me. "Gold-medal dick? That good?"

Cole snorted. "You know I'm not going to be able to sit for a week," he said. "Aside from those pretty young things, hasn't anyone else tried to keep you?"

"I don't want to be kept," I said, immediately hating the tense of my words. Didn't want. Didn't. But I couldn't take it back now, and I couldn't color my relationship history to suit my purposes. "There's a vibrant queer community in Portland. The West End side of downtown has some great bars and restaurants, and I meet up with friends about once a month. Sometimes, I hookup with a fuck buddy. It's not a big deal."

Cole was silent for a moment, then he asked, "Am I your fuck buddy? Is that what we're doing?"

I sanded my fingers through his hair, hoping my touch could speak all the words I wasn't ready to say and he wasn't ready to hear. "No. You're my little prince."

He nodded. "I can live with that."