Survivor Trilogy Box Set

by T. M. Smith

  Had Taylor not worn flip-flops, he likely could have snuck up on Frank and caught him completely off guard. But he heard the soft thunk, thunk of the shoes growing louder as Taylor got closer. A beer appeared over his shoulder and Frank took it, smiling up at Taylor and—Oh my fucking God! The moon framed Taylor’s features with just enough light to make his caramel-colored skin glow as if it were painted bronze. His crazy hair lifted, doing a slow dance to the song of the soft breeze and his eyes blazed with want and intent. Frank swallowed hard, blinking a couple of times, his eyes still following Taylor as he picked up his chair and moved it right beside Frank’s, the arms of each chair touching, they were so close.

  Frank gasped when Taylor reached over and cupped his cheek, running his thumb over Frank’s bottom lip. “Do you even realize how much I want you, Frank?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Taylor

  Go big or go home, right? Taylor watched as his words sank in, Frank’s eyes going from uncertain to hopeful, a spark of elation, even a glimmer of fear. From Taylor’s perspective, he could see inside the man in front of him; it was something he picked up as soon as he was old enough to start paying attention. He’d heard a line in a movie once, “The eyes are the windows to the soul,” and he’d immediately thought of Frank. There was nothing he could hide from Taylor when they were face-to-face. As if he could read Taylor’s thoughts, Frank’s eyes slowly closed and he trembled.

  “Look at me, Frankie, please,” he whispered. Lashes fluttering, Frank did as asked. Taylor took the beer from him and set it on top of the cooler, sliding out of his chair to kneel in front of the man. “I know you’re worried there’s no going back once we cross the line. And while it scares me a little, the possibility that we might not be able to make it work, what truly terrifies me is not trying.”

  He took Frank’s face into his hands, his thumb grazing the scar that went right down the middle of his eyebrow. Frank had sprinted past a boat motor when he was twelve, resulting in six stitches and a lifelong reminder every time he looked in the mirror. Taylor took his time mapping out every freckle and wrinkle he found, his thumbs and fingers circling Frank’s eyes, nose, and mouth before meeting his intense gaze once again. Goddamn, it was like looking in a mirror. Frank’s mouth might be saying one thing, erring on the side of caution, but there was a storm of lust and need in the depths of the blue pools staring back at Taylor.

  “I…” Frank opened and closed his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed. “I want that too, Taylor, I do. But, what if it doesn’t work out, where will that leave us? I don’t want to lose you, Taylor, lose us, or the relationship we already have.” His words were uncertain and questioning, but they were laced with desire.

  He had to set Frank’s mind and ease, convince Frank that he was sincere and the only way to do that was to speak from his heart. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Frank, wanted you. I’ve been slowly falling in love with you for years and I know you feel the same way. I’ve seen it in your eyes, the way you look at me sometimes. “Why are you fighting this so hard?” Taylor was close enough to feel Frank’s deep, panting breaths on his lips and it was an exercise in control not to pounce and take what he wanted. No, he wouldn’t do that. This had to be mutual; Frank had to say yes.

  “Say yes to me, Frankie,” he whispered…and waited. Frank’s hands came up to circle his wrists where Taylor still held Frank’s face, just waiting for a sign. A single tear trailed down Frank’s cheek when he blinked and then—Oh thank you, God!—he nodded slowly.

  When their lips met, a shock zinged through Taylor’s body like nothing he’d ever felt. The kiss was chaste and simple to start, just a press of lips. When Frank ran his hands up Taylor’s arms, wrapping them around his neck and pulling Taylor close, he gasped and nearly lost his balance. Frank took that as an invitation and slid his tongue into Taylor’s mouth, gently licking the seam of his lips before delving in deeper, twisting his tongue with Taylor’s, trying to dominate the kiss. Then Frank’s hands were in his hair, fisting and pulling, trying to pull Taylor closer.

  Legs wrapping around Taylor’s waist, Frank moaned and the sound went straight to Taylor’s dick that was already hard enough to break glass. He let Frank’s mouth go briefly, just long enough to suck in a couple of gulps of air. Grabbing Frank’s hips, he jerked his ass to the edge of the chair and hissed when Frank’s strong legs tightened around his middle. Frank’s pupils were completely dilated, the blue just a thin sliver circling the black orbs. Smiling, Taylor leaned in and traced Frank’s lips with the tip of his tongue. He repeated the motion using the flat of his tongue, slipping into the moist heat of Frank’s mouth once before pulling back when Frank sought more. His breathing was labored, chest rising and falling, Frank was his for the taking.

  A gentle breeze blew by and they both shivered, the air cold on their sweat-dampened skin. Frank’s eyes bore into him and he leaned up, licking Taylor’s bottom lip playfully before nipping with his teeth. “Yes, Taylor, I want this too. God help me, I do.” Frank’s voice was low, gravelly, and oh, so fucking sexy.

  Growling, Taylor held Frank by the nape of the neck with one hand, the other gripping his chin so Frank was powerless to move. He dove into Frank’s mouth, sucking and biting, licking, taking what he wanted. When Frank let his head fall back, Taylor took the opportunity to lick a path from his lips, across his jaw, and down his neck to his collarbone where he bit down gently. Frank let out a long, low moan that threatened to shred the last of Taylor’s self-control. He’d deliberately left his wallet upstairs, knowing full well that once he got a taste of Frank, if there were condoms and lube readily available, he’d fuck him on the sand, in the water, against the friggin’ wall. Taylor wanted to wait just a bit longer before bedding the man. Solidify their relationship before going at it like rabbits.

  “Goddamn, Taylor, if you keep touching me, setting me on fire with that mouth of yours, I may lose control.” Frank groaned, holding Taylor’s head close to his body as Taylor licked the path back up to his mouth for another kiss. This time though, Taylor softened the press of lips, their tongues dancing slowly and sensually. Frank whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, and Taylor had to pull away. Frank’s mouth followed him, desperate for more.

  Taylor smiled, shaking his head and pushing Frank none too gently back into his chair. “Let’s take a breather, slow this down before I jump you right here on the beach.” Righting his clothes and running fingers through his now damp, messed up hair, Taylor plopped into the chair next to Frank.

  He watched Frank out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the beer, drained the bottle then put it in the cooler and pulled two fresh ones out. Twisting the tops off, he passed one bottle to Taylor, tossing both caps into the cooler before turning around in his chair to face the water again. It made Taylor deliriously happy when Frank reached for his hand, twining their fingers and resting their gathered hands on the arm of the chairs where they met.

  “Who the hell taught you how to kiss like that, Kid? Please tell me it wasn’t our neighbor, the blond nuisance.” There was a note of disdain in Frank’s tone that made Taylor want to laugh. But he held back.

  “Billy and I were never more than friends with benefits, Frank. He’s not, and never was, the man I want in my life.” Taylor turned to look at him, but Frank was staring out at the water.

  Neither of them spoke again for a while, and while Frank’s silence was a bit unnerving, they still held hands. And Frank’s body language was loose and open, far from closed off. So he waited, giving Frank time to gather his thoughts. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “I’m tired of pretending I don’t have feelings for you that go way past platonic, Taylor. And that kiss, damn. The attraction is mutual and the chemistry between us is spiking at DEFCON 1, but…” Frank paused, setting his beer in the sand and standing. He turned and held his hand out to Taylor. Without taking his eyes off Frank, Taylor downed the rest of his beer, setting the empty bottle beside the
cooler before accepting the outstretched hand.

  At five eleven, Frank had to lift his head to look up at Taylor. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around Frank until he finished what he had to say. Or if he reached for him, whichever happened first. If Frank touched him, all bets were off.

  “I need you to be absolutely certain that this is what you want, Taylor,” Frank whispered, lifting his hand to cup Taylor’s cheek. “Everything is going to change now. I know that; I expect and accept that. But, I can’t lose you, Taylor. You’re too important to me and…”

  “You talk too much.” Taylor growled, grabbing Frank and pulling his body to him, capturing his mouth and claiming what was his. “What part of…I’ve been in love with you…for years…did you not understand?” Taylor pushed the words out slowly, in between spine-tingling kisses that alone should have proved his intentions to Frank.

  They stayed pressed up against each other for several minutes, lips and limbs a tangled mess. Taylor finally had to pull away when the lack of oxygen made him dizzy. “Okay. We’re doing this,” Frank whispered, staring up at him with kiss-swollen lips, glassy eyes, and beard burn on his cheeks.

  “Jesus H. Christ, you are so goddamn sexy, Frank.”

  “Huh?” Frank asked, dazed.

  Taylor laughed, turning away from Frank just long enough to gather the empty bottles and stuff them into the cooler. The chairs would be fine until morning. Draping his arm over Frank’s shoulder, he led Frank across the yard to the house. “You just try to get rid of me, old man.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Frank

  Memories were a constantly moving photo album in the mind. Ever present and ever changing as people grew older and experienced the best and the worst life had to offer. Many people shared the same memory, each seeing things in a different way, often depending on mood, surroundings or settings. Frank would remember everything about this night for the rest of his life, the events painted onto a blank canvas with bold colors and contrasting brush strokes.

  He’d reached for Taylor’s hand as soon as they were in the cottage, locking the back door before leading Taylor up the stairs and down the hall to his room. There was no discussion; Frank made the decision on instinct, needing to spend more time with the man who’d just professed his love and then sealed it with a kiss. “Give me a minute.” Taylor disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Frank alone with his thoughts.

  His skin felt flushed, sticky. So Frank crossed over to the window and pulled it open, letting the gentle breeze cool him off, the sound of the water below calming his nerves. He’d have known Taylor was behind him even if he hadn’t heard the bathroom door open. The man smelled like sunshine and rain with just a hint of musk. Closing his eyes, Frank inhaled the combined scents of Taylor and the Vineyard and smiled. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and Frank thought he might spontaneously combust, the warmth from Taylor’s body shocking his now chilled skin.

  “Can I stay with you tonight, Frank?” Taylor tightened his grip, holding Frank’s body flush to his with one arm around his waist, the other sliding up Frank’s arm to his neck.

  “I…what…” How the hell did Taylor expect him to think, much less speak when he had his tongue in Frank’s ear? “What was the question?”

  Taylor chuckled softly. “I want to kiss you until you can’t see straight and then fall asleep with you in my arms. And when we wake up, still wrapped around each other, I want to do it all over again.” He could feel Taylor’s warm breath as he spoke, the words having the feeling of a feather gently brushing his skin.

  It was no use. There was no way Frank could make himself do anything but enjoy the feeling of Taylor’s body behind him. “Say yes to me, Frankie.” Lord, but hearing his name on Taylor’s lips with so much want and need wrapped around the words left Frank weak in the knees. Slowly, Frank twisted and turned until he was facing Taylor, the man’s arms holding on to Frank, refusing to let him go.

  Looking up into eyes full of emotions that could never be put into words, Frank kissed the corner of Taylor’s mouth, then his jaw, lips running over the slightly stubbled skin. When he pulled away and met Taylor’s intense gaze once again, he smiled. “I never have been able to tell you no.”

  As if he’d just flipped a switch, Taylor’s demeanor changed in an instant. Grabbing Frank by the chin, he held him in place and mauled his mouth, his other arm snaking around Frank’s waist and jerking him close while he continued to search for Frank’s tonsils with his tongue. It was simultaneously the sexiest and most terrifying thing Frank had ever experienced. The way Taylor held him, kissed him, fucking owned him with just his touch was so sexy. Frank wasn’t small or timid by any means, and the career he’d chosen required a constant show of strength. But being in Taylor’s arms, knowing that he was fixing to willingly, happily, give himself to Taylor and let the younger man have all the control…terrified him. Not because it would make him feel weak or submissive, quite the opposite actually. It was knowing, deep down, that he was going to open himself up to Taylor in ways he’d never done with another person, not even his best friend. And if Taylor ever up and walked away, it would wreck Frank completely.

  Frank hadn’t even realized they were moving until the backs of his legs met the mattress. He fell onto the bed, staring up at the man that was about to become his lover. Before he could start pondering the what ifs and count the butterflies in his stomach, Taylor began to undress and all conscious thought flew right out the window. With nothing but the soft glow of the moon outside bathing him in hues of silver and blue, Taylor was breathtaking. He’d seen Taylor nearly naked on many occasions over the past decade, but not like this, not with the implication of sex.

  Tall, toned and tan, Taylor moved with the grace of a gazelle and the ease of a panther stalking its prey as he climbed onto the bed and slithered up Frank’s body. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, loving the spark he saw flaring in Taylor’s eyes at his words.

  “You’re pretty goddamn sexy, Frank, and mine, all mine.” Taylor punctuated the words with a thrust of his hips.

  “Fuuuuuuck.” Frank groaned, lifting his ass up off the bed, pressing his groin against Taylor’s hip bone. Friction, that’s what he needed.

  “Not tonight, Frankie,” Taylor said then kissed him again. “We have all the time in the world.”

  “Do we?” Frank asked. He had to give Taylor one last chance to walk away.

  “We do.” Taylor purred, fucking purred, licking his lips as he jerked Frank’s shorts and boxers down his legs. “Before we talk about forever and you start whispering sweet nothings in my ear, what do you say we lose the clothes?”

  Frank snorted, grabbing his shirt by the hem and getting his arms tangled in the material before wiggling free, and finally, lifting it over his head. Very un-sexy, yes, he knew. “That was a rhetorical question, right?”

  “Look at you…” Taylor’s voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes raked over Frank’s naked body and Frank swore he could feel a tingle on his skin just from the intensity in Taylor’s lustful stare. It finally dawned on Frank, lying there on his bed, naked and exposed…Taylor loved him. Loved him and wanted to be with him. Hearing Taylor say the words was one thing, but seeing it in his eyes though, proved to Frank that they weren’t just words. Those subtle touches, eyes lingering and filled with hope and curiosity, it wasn’t all in Frank’s imagination.

  “Ah, see, now you get it.” Taylor laid his long body over him, rubbing his nose against Frank’s.

  Wait, when did he crawl onto the bed? Frank wondered. He’d been so lost in thought, sorting through the plethora of emotions swarming him that he hadn’t felt the weight of Taylor on the bed. “Get what?” he asked, voice broken and scratchy.

  Taylor laughed. “You have the most expressive eyes, Frankie. It’s just one of many things that I find so alluring about you.” Grinning, Taylor ghosted his lips over Frank’s, almost but not quite kissing him. “I can always tell what you’re thinking
or feeling as long as I can see your face.”

  Unwilling to wait another second to feel Taylor’s lips again, Frank took what he wanted. Taylor kept control of the kiss though, opening up just enough to tease before pulling back. Sighing, Frank closed his eyes and prayed for patience. He wanted it all and he wanted it right the fuck now. “The blue is pale, almost pure, and vivid with a darker shade of blue around the rim. When you smile, it’s like looking at a cloudless blue sky, or the calm, clear water of the ocean.”

  Taylor kissed him, just a quick press of lips, and Frank could feel his lips move up his cheek to his eye and gasped when Taylor kissed one, then the other. How could something as simple as the brush of lips on his closed eyelids feel so…intimate? “When you’re unhappy they look sorta blue-gray like a storm on the horizon. When you’re pissed, I swear you literally shoot daggers with them.” They both chuckled.

  “My personal favorite, though, is what I see when you look at me.” Frank blinked, looking up into eyes that looked amber by the light of the moon. Like watching whiskey being slowly rolled in a glass tumbler. “You’re starting to doubt yourself again, Frank—don’t do that. Look at me with the eyes that were gazing up at me five minutes ago, when you finally let all those walls you hide behind down. Look at me with that fierce devotion, anticipation of what’s to come.”