by N. R. Walker
Jack surprised me by laughing. “Oh my God, Lawson. I love your mother!”
I stared at him. It’s quite possible I blinked.
He just laughed some more. “I was expecting some private school headmistress type, but she couldn’t be further from that.”
“Why would you think she was like a headmistress?”
“Because you were nervous about me meeting her and worried about touching me in front of her.”
“Only because she’d be planning our wedding.”
“She already is. Well, that and our sex life. She told me that you were a late bloomer and to be patient with you, if need be.”
I stared at him and felt nauseous and horrified. I couldn’t speak.
Jack leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I told her patience was not a virtue you were overly fond of in that regard, and that if you had been a late bloomer, you certainly weren’t now.”
I think I blushed from my hairline to my toes. I let my head fall into my hands. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
He kissed my neck, just below my ear before he took my hands from my face and kept our fingers entwined. He gave me a perfectly dimpled smile. “Don’t apologise. Your Mum’s a hoot. She’s so much more than I was expecting. She protests for civil rights and animal rights, she eats organic foods, she’s crazy intelligent. And she raised three pretty cool kids.”
“You like them?” I asked. “I mean, Paterson and Mackellar?”
“Hell yes. And your dad. You’re all so different but very much the same. I don’t even know how that works, but seeing you all together makes perfect sense.”
I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you like them.”
“Of course I like them. How could I not when they each remind me a little of you?”
I chuckled at that, relief and those enigmatic metaphorical butterflies coursed through me.
“Oh, and by the way,” Jack added casually. “Your Mum said she wouldn’t be too opposed to a wedding in Scottsdale, as long as we promised to spend some time in Melbourne on our way to our honeymoon.”
I sank down in my seat. Horrified. Mortified. I squeaked an apologetic sound.
Jack just laughed and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s okay, Lawson. I’m not opposed to it either.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jack
We boarded the plane and settled in for the three and a half-hour flight. I was excited for this trip. Yes, going away for ten days with a boyfriend of just six months was risky, but I had no doubt that Lawson and I were solid.
No doubt.
He was pedantic about so many things, but he was a relaxed traveller. Despite our very first encounter when we met on a plane and he was flustered, this time he was deep breaths and smiles. Well, he read and re-read his research papers, making notes and highlighting, his forehead creasing in thought every now and then. I put on headphones and scrolled the comedy movies until I found something worth watching and let him do his thing.
I understood this was a working vacation for him, and I was perfectly okay with that. I’d never been to Cairns before, and I was looking forward to it. Warmer weather, white sands, and crystal blue oceans, flanked by pristine rainforests. Not to mention the Great Barrier Reef.
After the in-flight meal, I took out the holiday destination brochure from the back of the seat in front of me. I read about the scenic railway, the Skyrail cableway, snorkelling.
“Find anything interesting?” Lawson asked, closing his notepad.
“Sure! Lots to do.”
“I wish I could commit to more time with you, but I’m not sure what’s expected.”
“It’s fine. I agreed to come along with you knowing full well that you’d be working. Just promise me two half days out of the ten.”
His lips twitched. “I’m certain my schedule will allow that. Anything, in particular, you’d like us to do?”
“I can think of a lot of things,” I murmured so only he could hear.
“Any tourist things,” he amended, his cheeks pink, “such as sightseeing?”
“Well, more like hiking and snorkelling.”
Lawson settled back in his seat. “An outdoorsman. How could I forget?”
“Of course, I’m not opposed to indoor activities. Or even doing indoor activities outdoors.”
Lawson flushed a shade of red I’d only seen in nature.
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Anything I should know?”
He licked his lips. “About what?”
I glanced quickly at the lady on the other side of him. She had earphones on and wasn’t paying attention to us. “About doing indoor things outdoors.”
Lawson’s breath caught, and that was all the reaction I needed. He didn’t have to answer.
“Did we by chance book the private courtyard suite?”
* * *
The room was a tiki-themed cabana-style room with a huge king-size bed, a spa, a kitchenette, and yes, a private courtyard. The hotel had a gorgeous pool with palm trees, lit with nightlights, and the beach just a block away. I could hear the waves crashing as I opened the glass sliding doors.
But it had been a long day, and Lawson’s blinks were getting a little longer, and he did those cute squinty-blinks he did when he was tired.
“Let me order in a late supper,” I suggested. “We can have a bath. It’s big enough for two. Then bed. You’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
His unpacking seemingly forgotten, he walked over to me and gripped my face, bringing me in for a quick hard kiss. “I’ll go run the bath.”
Supper eaten, clothes packed away, and all Lawson’s research gear accounted for, we slipped into the biggest spa bath ever. He’d even added some bubbles, and it was absurdly comfortable and relaxing. He sat at one end, me at the other, and I picked up one of his feet and started to massage.
He groaned an obscene sound, but closed his eyes and sank lower into the water. He mumbled, “So good.”
When I was done with that foot, I collected his other and gave it the same treatment. He was sighing out sex noises. “Didn’t realise I was so good at this.”
He didn’t open his eyes. “You win all the awards.” Then he cracked one eyelid. “What did you stop for?”
I snorted and started my ministrations again, kneading my thumb into the arch of his foot. When I’d had enough of that, I lowered his foot back down. “Want me to do your shoulders?”
He lifted one eyelid. “That offer has sexual undertones.”
I laughed. “You’re too tired for sexual undertones. Turn around, sit between my legs, and I’ll massage your shoulders and neck.” I held up both pruned hands. “No wicked intent, I promise.”
Lawson smiled sleepily but slid over in the tub to settle in between my legs. I kneaded my thumbs into his shoulders, and after about twenty seconds, I think he started to purr. Or snore. It was kinda hard to tell.
I slowly eased him forward, rousing him awake. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
I pulled the plug and helped him out of the tub. I dried him off the best I could and then did myself before leading him to bed. He was so sleepy and pliant it was cute. I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed after him. I pulled the blanket up over us, settled him into the crook of my arm, and kissed his forehead. There was something to be said about intimacy that wasn’t sexual. Sure, I could worship his body with my own for hours on end, and I quite often did, but I could also care for him and make sure he was safe and adored too. Lawson had come into my life so unexpectedly, and I had fallen haphazardly head over heels in love with him.
And as he nuzzled into me, trying to get closer to me even in sleep, I had no doubts he loved me too.
I drifted off to sleep and dreamed of running through fields of long grass chasing butterflies with Lawson, and we were laughing in the sunlight, and then we were the butterflies flittering over pockets of air, weightless and carefree. Then we were fucking and I was buried inside him and he was
so warm and wet…
Wait, what?
I jerked awake to find the room lit with the sunrise and Lawson smiling wickedly around my cock.
He was fully dressed, bow tie and all, and I was stark naked and half-asleep but almost ready to come. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep, rolling my hips for him.
He hummed and pulled off. “You took care of me last night. Now I’m taking care of you.” He didn’t wait for me to reply, he simply took me into his mouth again and used his hands to fondle my balls and trace my arsehole, then pump me until I couldn’t hold back any longer. He moaned when I came, swallowing down everything I gave him.
I was utterly boneless, heavy as lead, and my head was spinning. He appeared above my face, his swollen lips smiling victoriously. “I ordered breakfast for you. It’ll be delivered at half seven.” He planted a kiss on my lips. “Have a good day.” And he was gone.
I smiled at where his face had been and dozed in a sated slumber until room service delivered breakfast.
* * *
I spent the day walking along the esplanade enjoying the sunshine. It was weird for me to be wearing shorts and a T-shirt in the middle of winter, but it sure was a nice break from the Tasmanian winter we’d left behind. I spent the afternoon by the hotel pool, lazing on a lounge chair, reading, dozing, relaxing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent a day doing this little.
It was glorious.
By the time I wandered to our room, I was warmed through like a stone in the sun, slightly sun-kissed, and my skin felt tight from the salt water from the pool. I was surprised to find Lawson there. “Oh, I hadn’t realised the time,” I said, kissing him soundly. It was almost five. The still-present sun fooled me into thinking it wasn’t that late. “Have I ever told you how glad I am that butterflies aren’t nocturnal?”
Lawson smiled and kissed me again. “You haven’t actually told me that, no.”
“Well, I am. It means you spend nights with me and not them.”
“Are you jealous of butterflies?”
“Insanely.”
He laughed. “How did you spend your day? You look like you spent the day in the sun.”
“I did. It was great. Winter in the tropics is just like our summer back home. I walked along the beach, ate fish and chips by the water, and spent the whole afternoon by the pool. Salt water and sunshine. It was lovely.” I took his hand and led him to the sofa. “Tell me everything you did today.”
“I met Piers Bonfils, director of the Cairns Butterfly Conservatory. He’s the man who emailed me, inviting me to come.”
“What’s he like?”
“He has contributed to the Annales de la Société Entomologique de France, so yes, he’s quite renowned. He was on the Committee of the Association of Lepidoptera in France before he came to Australia.”
Lawson sounded impressed, and I figured this guy’s resumé was something to be respected.
“What kind of team does he have?”
Lawson smiled and squeezed my hand. “Can we talk over dinner? I’ll tell you everything, but I’m starving. I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“Oh, of course. Room service or dinner out? Which would you prefer?”
“I’m sure we can find a café on the esplanade.”
“Perfect. Let me grab a quick shower, just to wash the salt water off me. I feel a bit sticky.”
Lawson’s right eyebrow flickered up as did the corner of his mouth. “Or you could leave it so I can taste it later.”
I laughed. “Or we could take a night swim together after dinner? Then afterwards you can taste me as much as you want.”
He gave me an insufferable sigh and a smirk. “If I must.”
A quick two-minute shower later and I came out of the cubicle to find Lawson at the vanity. He sprayed deodorant under his arms, then washed his face. “I’ll shower after our swim,” he said, slipping a clean shirt on.
“What? No bow tie?”
“No time. I’m starving. Hurry up and get dressed.”
I threw on the closest outfit I could find and pulled the door shut behind us. I knew Lawson well enough to know that he was grumpy if he didn’t eat. We got to the footpath and I pointed to the quickest route to the esplanade. “This way.”
We found a little café on the waterfront. Lawson ordered the grilled chicken salad and then proceeded to eat most of the fries off my plate. I laughed at him. “Want half my burger too?”
He sat back and patted his belly. “Not now.”
“So tell me, what’s up with the Ulysses butterfly, and why did the gorgeous Lawson Gale need to cross the country for it? I mean, I do understand you are the best lepidopterist there is, but…”
He ignored my compliment. “The Ulysses isn’t breeding successfully.”
I thought about that for a moment. “So you came all this way to put them in the mood?”
He chuckled. “Kind of. Well, they are breeding, but it’s not viable.”
“Did you try serenading them? Dinner first? No wait, tell them all they’re serial killers and dazzle them with your intelligence. Totally worked for me.”
Lawson laughed. “It did. However, I don’t think butterflies and you have that much in common.”
I feigned offence. “I’ll have you know, I give the best butterfly kisses.”
He hummed, and happiness seemed to radiate from him. “You certainly do.”
“So, if I were a butterfly, what breed would I be?”
“Hmm.” Lawson tilted his head and considered this. “You’re more of a dragonfly. The Calopteryx virgo to be exact. Strikingly beautiful.”
I smiled at that. “But you’re a butterfly?”
“Probably.”
“You are,” I confirmed. “So why can’t I be the same as you?”
“Do you need to be the same as me?”
“Yes. How can we be compatible if we’re not?”
He gave me a fond smile. “Fair enough. If you were a butterfly, you’d be a White Dragontail.”
“Why?”
His eyes never left mine. “Well, again, incomparable beauty, transparent wings, and they usually copulate for hours at a time.”
I barked out a laugh. “Is that right?”
“Absolutely.” He had that playful, amused spark in his eyes. “You said, rather adamantly, that I would be a butterfly.”
“Yes. It’s true. Now, I’m not up to date on their copulation habits, but metaphorically speaking, you come across as an unassuming, shy guy, but you really do have wings. You just don’t show them to many people.”
He looked at me like he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He swallowed hard.
I gave him a smile. “When you were explaining to me what imago was, I kept thinking it was just like you. You’d shown me your true self, and Lawson, it was a remarkable sight.”
His nostrils flared, his eyes were dark with lust, and he swallowed again. “Jack, you need to take me back to our room. Now.”
I looked around for our waitress and put my hand up to get her attention. “Bill, please.”
* * *
When we left the café, Lawson slipped his hand into mine. We hadn’t really been anywhere together that warranted holding hands. If we walked down the street in Scottsdale, one of us was usually holding a bag of produce or Rosemary’s leash. When we were in Launceston, we were usually at his place or at professor Tillman’s butterfly house. Sure, we went out for dinner occasionally, but we’d park close to the restaurant. We rarely walked anywhere far enough to hold hands.
He squeezed my fingers. “Is this okay?”
“It’s more than okay.”
He walked with a skip in his step back to the hotel, and when we passed the pool, I pointed to it. “Wanna take a dip?”
“After.”
“After what?”
He fit the key into the lock and pushed the door open. “After what you’re about to do to me.”
He walked in first, unbuttoning his s
hirt as he went. He tossed it onto the floor and kept walking into the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, looked right at me while he undid the button and zipper on his pants. “Waiting for something?”
Fucking hell.
I stepped inside and locked the door behind me just in time to see his pants being flung to the floor.
“I’m starting without you,” he said, his voice tight.
When I got to the bedroom door, I found him on the bed, on his back with his knees bent. His right hand gripped his cock, his left rubbed over his hole. A bottle of lube lay next to him on the bed.
“Lawson,” I breathed his name.
He slipped a finger inside himself. “Jack, you’re not naked and you’re not inside me.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and toed out of my shoes. I pulled my socks off and slid my shorts over my hips. I was already hard. Seeing him laid out before me like that, offering himself to me, turned me on like nothing else could.
I gave myself a few strokes but then had to pull on my balls to stave off my orgasm. Jesus. I wasn’t going to last at this rate.
Lawson writhed on the bed, jerked himself, and added another finger to his slicked hole. “Jack,” he bit out. “You’re still not inside me.”
I knelt on the bed and took the foil packet he’d put near the lube. I rolled the condom down my length and Lawson moaned. I knew if I left it a moment longer, that filthy mouth of his would―
“Jack, I need your cock in me when I come. If you don’t fuck me soon―”
And there it was.
“Take your hand away,” I ordered and moved into position between his thighs.
He gripped the backs of his knees and I pressed the blunt head of my cock to his hole. “Just fucking do it,” he ground out.
I pushed into him, in one full thrust.
His eyes went wide, his jaw bulged, and he gritted his teeth.
I knew he could take it. And not just take it but love every second. “Is that what you want?”
He nodded and breathed, his body relaxing. “God yes.” I slowly rocked my hips, giving him time to adjust. “Fuck me, Jack. Make me yours.”
God, his words were fuel to a fire I was trying to contain.