Dinner was perfect, then I had to go ruin it with talking about his job, about him leaving and going back to a job, to a life, he hates. The light in his eyes snuffed out as soon as I mentioned it, and I regretted it the second those stupid words left my mouth.

I needed to make it up to him. I needed to distract him and lift his mood again. We’d had the best day. The very best, if I was being honest, and I didn’t want it to end on a sour note.

I didn’t want it to end at all.

Then he told me I was the only person to know the real him. Jesus, I’d known him for a handful of days. We’d discussed personal subjects. He’d admitted some things his colleagues could never know about his dreams and his health. I got the feeling he was being himself with me, and I hated that he was guarded in his real life.

“Thank you,” I said.

“What for?” His tone was disbelief, frustration, resignation.

“For today. For inviting me to join you. I’ve had one of the best days I’ve had in ages. And thank you for showing me who you really are.”

He almost flinched, his eyes narrowing. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

I shook my head slowly, not taking my eyes from his. “Oh no, Stuart. Just the opposite. It’s a very good thing.”

He looked down at the table, and a dozen emotions crossed his face in the flickering of the fairy lights. “I have no reason to be anything but myself with you.”

I reached over and took his hand. “That’s what I’m thanking you for. It’s a privilege to witness.”

He shook his head like he could physically rebuff my compliment. I assumed professional accolades were par for the course with him, but anything remotely personal was out of bounds. “Don’t we need to hit the supermarket? I need to have the car back by nine, so…”

“So, let’s go,” I said, standing up.

He insisted on paying “because I asked you out, Foster, it’s only right” so I let him, and I was kind of glad we weren’t going straight back to the marina. Granted, grocery shopping was no romantic prelude to… well, anything, but it gave me a chance to make him smile before we went back to the yacht.

I got better than a smile, though. As soon as we walked through the doors, there was a huge box of lemons and limes, and Stuart laughed as he bagged about twenty.

“I don’t think we’ll need that many,” I tried to reason.

“There will be lots of lick, sip, sucking.”

I cringed. “I have serious concerns for my liver.”

He laughed and leaned in close. “I have serious concerns for my arse because I know what you’re packing. So I’ll call us even.”

I laughed louder than was probably polite in a grocery store, and just like that, we were back to smiles, gentle touches, and heated glances. The darker topics of reality were left behind for now.

We picked fresh fruits and veggies, cuts of meat, and seafood. “Want some oysters?” I asked, looking in the deli fridge.

Stuart’s nostrils flared and he made a face. “Not a fan. But by all means, you can. I’ve heard they’re… beneficial.”

I snorted. “Nah. What about some fresh prawns?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

When we were about done, I nodded my head toward the far aisle. “Personals aisle. Should we check it out?” I started walking and he did follow, but when I’d stopped at the condoms and lube section, I gave him a raised eyebrow. “Any particular favourites?”

He shrugged. “I actually packed a twelve-pack. I had my bag packed before Mr Arsehole decided he’d rather not join me. I never took them out.”

“Oh.” I picked up a tube of lube.

“And lube. I’m always prepared.”

I snorted. “How many were in the pack you said you have?” I asked.

“Twelve.”

“Hmm.” I pretended to consider this. “And how many days do we have? Will that be enough?”

He laughed. “Don’t tease me like that. Or I’ll hold you to it.”

“We do dock again in another three days, so we should be right until then,” I joked. I picked up a sensual massage oil and threw it in the basket. “If you’re lucky, I’ll let you give me a full body massage.”

He snorted. “Gee, thanks. But just so you know, I wouldn’t be terribly opposed. Actually, the more I think about it…” He got a faraway look in his eyes, then readjusted his crotch. “Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about it.”

I ran a hand down his back and over his arse, giving it a squeeze. “Last stop is the liquor department. Then we’re back on the yacht where you can think about it all you like.”

We got to the checkout, and he looked at the basket. “I’m paying for this,” I stated, knowing what he was about to say. “It’s part of your tour.” There really wasn’t a great deal in it, to be honest, and he’d already paid for dinner…

“I’ll get the alcohol,” he said, walking through the registers, where I couldn’t go with my unpaid goods. “That’s only fair.”

I sighed. I couldn’t argue; he was already gone, and the checkout guy was smiling at me expectantly. I loaded our things through, and by the time I was done, he came back out with a grin a mile wide, carrying a carton of Corona with a bottle of Alquimia Reserva de Don Adolfo Extra Añejo tequila on top. “Was that completely necessary?” I asked as we walked out toward the car.

“Completely.”

I couldn’t even chastise him for spending so much money; it was supposed to be a fully catered charter after all, but his grin was so beautiful, I couldn’t do anything but smile in return. I guess the rules changed about a lot of things when it was just the two of us.

I guess a lot of things changed.

We handed over the keys to the car and carried our supplies down the jetty to the yacht. There were a few people about, a few lights on here and there, but mostly we were alone. Stuart slid the carton of beer onto the dining table. “So, do we stay docked here for the night, or do we make a start for our next stop?”

“We stay here. Why? Did you not want to?”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind either way. I just wondered, if the yacht gets rocking too much, people will notice.” He grinned. “I’d hate to be interrupted when you find your rhythm. If you know what I mean…”

I smiled as I put the groceries away. “Oh, I know what you mean. But this yacht has pretty good water displacement ratios. It won’t rock too much.”

He put the bottle of tequila on the counter beside me and kissed the back of my neck, his body pressing against me. “Know that from experience?”

“Not personally,” I replied. I didn’t mean to sound so breathless, so desperate. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder and he kissed along my neck. “Other people…”

He paused at my ear, his breath warm. His tongue made my knees weak. “You’ve never fucked anyone on your own yacht?”

“No.” I gripped the counter to stop myself from turning around. “Always kept it on shore, if you know what I mean.”

“Isn’t this your house?” he asked, pushing me harder against the cabinets, his cock pressing hot and hard against my arse.

I could barely manage a one-word response. “Yes.”

He grinded against me, slow and hard. “So I’ll be the first guy you fuck here?”

“Yes.”

He clearly liked that because he melted against me, and his cock pulsed. “My bed,” he murmured, “or yours?”

“Mine, yours. I don’t fucking care.” I tried to turn, but he kept me pinned. I could feel his smile as he kissed down my neck.

“Do you want a shot of tequila? Want to lick the salt off my body?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t need it.” I turned around then and he let me. His eyes were dark and his smile predatory. I could see why he had a list of friends with benefits. If he looked at anyone the way he was looking at me right now… “I don’t need the courage and I don’t want the inhibitor,” I said. I fisted his shirt and pulled him close, our hips aligning, my erection against his. “I want to feel everything.”

His nostrils flared and he crushed his mouth to mine in a consuming kiss. Hot and passionate, his hand went to my face, my hair, holding my neck, and he pushed me back against the sink. When he finally drew back, he was breathless and his lips were wet and plump. “Lock the door, captain. Your cabin boy needs a really good fucking.”

Jesus.

I almost came right then. I had to give myself a squeeze to stem the pleasure. He grinned like a smug arsehole and walked into his room, peeling his shirt off as he went.

Right then.

Move, Foster.

I jolted into action, closing the cabin door and locking it. I flipped the lights off as I went and found him wearing nothing but underwear. He smirked as he slid them down, watching my eyes as he stepped out of them. He went to his suitcase, pulled out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube, and threw them on the bed. He straightened out a towel in the middle of the mattress and gave me a filthy smirk as he knelt over it.

His cock jutted out, rock hard. He gave himself a slow pump. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said.

“No pressure then,” I said.

“Oh, I know you’ll make this good for me, Foster.” He all but purred the words. He leant over, showing me the most delicious looking arse I’d ever seen, putting on a show as he took the lube and slicked his finger. Then he straightened up, reached around, and rubbed his finger over his hole.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed.

“Do you want to watch me fuck myself?” he asked. “Or would you like to actually get naked at some point and do it for me?”

He said he was in control in the bedroom, and I shouldn’t have doubted him. I was still standing there watching him and he groaned as he slipped a finger inside. It was a guttural sound, a mix of pleasure and impatience. I took the hint and stripped off, giving my cock a hard squeeze. At this point, I’d come before I was even inside him.

Kneeling on the bed behind him, I ran my hand over his lower back, over his arse cheek, spreading him so his finger had better access. “You’re so fucking hot,” I mumbled. “Jesus, Stuart, I could come just from watching you.”

He chuckled, gruff and desperate. “Not tonight. Tonight, I need you in me. Now, Foster. I’m not kidding.”

I took a foil wrapper and ripped it open, rolling the condom down my cock and giving my balls a tug. This was going to be embarrassing.

Fuck! Get a grip, Foster.

I lubed myself up, then my fingers. “Take your hand away,” I said.

Stuart did as I asked but arched his back, sticking his arse out and looking upward. “You better hurry up and get something inside—”

I gripped his shoulder and thrust one finger inside him, making his words die in his throat. “That’s just one finger.”

“Fuck yes,” he groaned.

I pumped my finger in and out a few times, slow and deep. He was hot and tight and so fucking receptive. He made a deep whining sound that became the word “more.”

So I added a second finger and he arched again, pushing down on my hand. Fuck. He was loving it. “You like that?” I asked.

“Want more. Need more,” he moaned, his head lolling back like he was lost to the sensation. “Your cock. Please.”

Oh, sweet Lord have mercy.

I pulled my fingers out and he whimpered, so I shuffled in behind him, the backs of his thighs flush against me. Using one hand to grip his hip and the other to guide me inside him, I pushed in.

He took me, all of me, so perfectly, so completely.

He groaned as every inch of me filled him. I gripped his hips and paused when I was buried as deep as I could go, to steady myself, to breathe.

“Fuck, Stuart,” I whispered against his spine. He was basically straddling me, sitting on my cock, reverse cowboy, his back against my front. “You good?”

He moaned, long and loud, his head against my neck. He was panting and whining. “Move in me.”

I rolled my hips and he jerked up, crying out. He gripped my hair, and at first, I thought I’d hurt him, but he rocked on me, trying to fuck. “Do that again,” he pleaded. “More.”

So I did, and he reacted the same way. I did it over and over and he jerked himself and I was hurtling toward my orgasm; faster, more intense, more powerful than any I’d ever felt. I couldn’t stop it, not even if I wanted to.

“Stuart, I’m gonna come,” I ground out.

He threw his head back and a strangled cry ripped from his chest as he came, stripes of come shooting onto the towel. He stiffened, squeezing my cock, and I drove up into him as my orgasm obliterated my senses. Sight and sound fell away as bliss imploded within me. I cried out as I filled the condom, and he grunted in time with the pulsing inside him.

He fell back against me, his hands reaching up to my head. I never wanted to leave his body. I never wanted this, right here, to end. Not this feeling, not this moment.

I put an arm around his chest and gently lowered him to the mattress, pressing my weight onto his back. I was still inside him, and he sighed. I ran my hands along his arms, and when I got to his hands, he quickly threaded our fingers. “I never want to move,” I whispered, kissing the nape of his neck.

His voice was languid and husky. “Stay inside me and I’ll come again.”

I chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He answered so fast and sure, like it was the God’s honest truth.

“I need to take the condom off,” I mumbled but not attempting to move.

“Put another one on and get back inside me.”

I chuckled again and slowly pulled my hips back until I slipped free of him. I discarded the condom, and when I looked back at Stuart, he was still on his front, holding up another foil wrapper. “I wasn’t kidding.”

I blinked and looked down at my spent dick. Okay, it was still half-hard, but I wasn’t sure… “After that orgasm, I’m not sure I can.”

He smirked. “Oh, believe me, you have another one in you tonight.”

I snorted and knelt on the bed, crawling back up his body. I kissed his arse cheek, the base of his spine, then up to his neck. “How do you know?”

He hummed, enjoying my soft kisses. “I just know.”

“Sex with you is fucking good,” I allowed.

“Just good?”

“Mind-blowing. Best I’ve ever had.”

He began to turn around “The best—”

I pushed his shoulder back onto the bed, held him down, and whispered in his ear. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smiled into the mattress and lifted his hips against my dick. “I can feel your cock getting harder already. Now suit up and get the fuck back inside me.”

“You like being bossy in the bedroom?” I asked. “Or do you want me to show you who’s really in charge?”

He turned his head and his eyes were molten brown. “Do you think you’re good enough to fuck me into the mattress?” Then he stretched out, shoving a pillow under his head, and spread his legs and lifted his arse just so.

He smiled into the pillow when he heard me tear into the foil wrapper. He pulled his head back and moaned when I sunk inside him again. And so help me God, he wasn’t wrong. All he needed was a cock buried inside him to make him come, and he really loved getting pounded into the mattress.

And after I’d wrung a second orgasm out of him, followed directly by my own, we collapsed in a sweaty, panting mess. I had every intention of getting up and going to my own bed. I had no idea if Stuart was opposed to having a guy sleep in his bed, and I was about to ask him when he pulled me against him, burrowed himself into my chest, and was out like a light. I sighed and kissed his forehead, feeling happier and more content than I could ever remember, and fell into a deep and blissful sleep.