Sol: Learning to Love #2 by Con Riley

Author:Con Riley [Riley, Con]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Figment Ink
Published: 2021-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

19

Sol made it up to the cottage on shaky legs with Jace right behind him. Once at the top, Jace urged him to strip and resume his facing-the-wall position, only this time in the outdoor shower behind the willow screening.

Jace crouched with the shower head in hand, washing away sticky traces, and Sol couldn’t keep another laugh in.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sudoku,” Sol said, still chuckling. “And that maybe we should have come up here first. You know. For privacy.”

“Nope.” Jace stood and replaced the shower head, then crowded close again, like he had at the bottom of the steps with only those boulders between them and the rest of the world.

“Couldn’t wait.” His mouth was hot against Sol’s left ear, his body a long, lean line of heat against his back. “Thought about it all the way here. Touching you again. Kissing you anywhere you’d let me. Thought about it a lot.” He kissed a path across Sol’s shoulders, his whisper hoarse when he got to Sol’s right ear, still quiet as if someone might overhear him. “Thought about you. Came out into the garden to call you, but there you were at the water’s edge.”

“The tide’s a long way out. You could tell it was me?”

“Yeah.” Jace wrapped a hand around his ponytail and pulled it. “You forget I spent a long time looking at you. I’d know you anywhere.” He tugged his hair again, so Sol had to tilt his head back, nerves in his scalp singing in a way they hadn’t ever, prisms dancing where the sun caught on water droplets. On Jace’s eyelashes as well when Sol turned in his arms, beaded there in a way Sol hadn’t seen before.

For one of the first times in ages, the need to create struck him out of want, for once, instead of obligation.

He studied Jace and wished for a pencil or a paintbrush—would sketch him exactly as he was now, if that were an option. Capture that still new-to-him breadth of his chest along with the length of his legs. Shade each curve of quads that running had delineated. Smudge the fuzz of fair hair that water darkened at his pelvis with raw umber pastels. Draw the still-thick length of his cock with—

“See something you like?” Jace asked, his smile as bright as the specks of water he blinked away. He turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off with, but he saw to Sol first, dabbing droplets from the tattoos on his chest. He dried Sol from new moon to full, his touch careful, as if worried he might smear wet ink. “I really like these on you.” He glanced up. “I remember the first time I drew them.”

“You do?” Sol wasn’t sure that he could have pinpointed where or when that could have been, Jace doodled them so often. “When was it.”

“It was in a science lesson.” Jace passed Sol his shorts, which he slipped back on, but he didn’t bother with his shirt.

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