Drifting by J Calamy

Author:J Calamy [Calamy, J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Published: 2022-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cole

When Hank had said “desert camp” Cole had pictured a tent like he and his friends took to the Shenandoah, a small lightweight thing, an air mattress and a campfire for s’mores.

This wasn’t that.

They left the truck at a parking lot and got on a four-wheeler, riding through the valleys and canyons. Under the eyes of the other tourists in the parking lot, Cole leaned back against their cooler and bags. But as soon as they were out of sight, he wrapped his arms tight around Hank’s middle. Holding his man was nice, but also practical. He was so stunned by the beauty of the stone he would have fallen off otherwise.

The campsite appeared around a jumble of fallen orange stone, nestled in a little valley, facing east. Three huge tents, tall enough to stand in, surrounded a large fire pit with a clay oven and picnic table. There were low wooden seats around the campfire, looking horribly uncomfortable until Hank opened one of the tents and began pulling out cushions and blankets. A stainless-steel cart, missing a wheel but propped onto a brick, held pots and pans, plates and cups, knives and anything else.

“We’ll sleep in that one,” Hank said, jerking his chin. “Go set up the bed. I’ll get all this ready.”

“Did you say bed?”

“Sure did. Go see!”

A bed. Raw wood like the other furniture, no more than a foot off the ground and covered in a drop cloth to keep off the dust, but there was a real mattress, and clean folded sheets and blankets and rugs under the cover. The floor of the tent was covered in more carpets, and colorful hangings brightened every wall. The smell of woodsmoke and incense, something floral, teased his nose. A Thousand and One Nights promised by every detail. This isn’t Arabia, Cole. But still, they really are pulling the whole Bedouin vibe here. Gorgeous. I wonder who did the textiles?

Cole couldn’t help the thrill in his belly as he made the bed, thinking of what they were going to do. The chance to sleep together? Not only sex, which Cole was pretty damn excited about, thank you very much. But actually sleep together, touch, kiss, eat—all without inhibition? That was almost more exciting. Almost.

Hank built the fire, humming to himself and bending over frequently, to Cole’s delight. The firelight, once it was going, made stark shadows. Hank’s shirt pulled tight across the wide expanse of his back. The strangeness of Hank in clothes—in a pair of butter-soft old Levi’s and a gray Henley with a missing button, exposing a hint of collarbone, was ratcheting up the desire in Cole’s belly. He was glad he had thrown a pair of cargo pants in his bags, as well as a sweatshirt.

They watched the sun set from the top of the hill behind their campsite, then wandered down in the afterglow to feed the fire and make some tea. The stars were spilling across the sky, more and more of them, the kind of view Cole had never experienced in his life.

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