Slow Summer Heat

by Renae Kaye

  “Geoffrey.” It was barely more than a mutter. He reached out and anchored himself to me with an arm around my neck. I watched his face in the flashing lights and saw him furrow his brow as he began to arch his back.

  He opened his mouth to draw in breath, and I felt the involuntary jerking of his body as he reached his orgasm and came in his pants. I gentled the touch, slowing down and letting him come, enjoying the sensation of his come on my hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. I stopped moving but left my hand on his cock, feeling the flesh soften.

  He really was gorgeous. His confidence and wit made me laugh while his welcoming attitude made me feel comfortable. Sheer looks wouldn’t make me hang out with him. While I appreciated a pretty boy or handsome man as much as the next gay guy, he had to have something more than just that to have my interests stirred. And Vaughn had my interests moving so much, they were whipped into a frenzy.

  He opened his eyes, and we stared at each other for long moment. Finally I got the courage to ask, “Okay?”

  A slow and genuine smile spread across his face. “Oh yes.”

  I tacked on another attribute—he was cocky as well. I removed my hand from his pants, clenching my fist and feeling the stickiness still on it. He stretched as I rolled away from him and sat up.

  “Wait. What about you?” he asked quickly.

  I stood and adjusted my pants to a more comfortable position before facing him. “I’m good. I kind of like the anticipation.”

  He hesitated, as if assessing my honesty. “Then it’s your turn first next time.”

  I could live with that. “Deal.”

  MONDAY MORNING, at one minute past eight thirty, I rang the air-conditioning company. I finally got someone to pick up the phone seven minutes later but was informed their repair persons were fully booked and couldn’t come around until Friday.

  Vaughn wasn’t as devastated as me at the news.

  I held the sticky tape while he wrapped his presents, and told him not to be so cheerful at my bad luck.

  “Someone’s bad luck is someone else’s good luck,” he said happily. “If you buy a lotto ticket and win, that’s good luck to you but bad luck to everyone else who didn’t win.”

  “So my bad luck at not getting my air-con fixed…?”

  “Means I get to enjoy your company more, and someone else gets their machine fixed.”

  I wasn’t willing to admit he was right. “What if someone’s grandfather dies? How is that good luck?”

  He stood up with the wrapped present and moved it to the chair. Then he reached past me for the next present to wrap and kissed me on the top of my head has he did. “It’s good luck to the funeral home director, the hearse driver, the coffin maker, and the flower arranger.”

  I pretended to scowl as I conceded that perhaps it was true, then changed the subject. “Where are you taking me today?”

  He grinned as he pulled more sticky tape from the dispenser I held. “I told you the last eight times you asked: it’s another surprise.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “Tough titties. You liked my last two surprises, so have some faith in me.”

  Despite me being on the losing end of yet another argument, I liked the fact that Vaughn didn’t back down. I was wildly curious and somewhat scared about where he could be taking me.

  That fear ramped another seventeen notches when he looked at his watch and said, “We have to leave soon.”

  It meant that wherever we were going, we had to be there at a certain time. Vaughn promised me the cargo shorts and white T-shirt I was wearing were fine, and we got in his car again. Fifteen minutes later I decided Vaughn hated my guts.

  “Ice-skating?” I asked in horror. He wanted me to do what? He ignored me as he parked his car in a spare bay in front of the huge building that contained an ice rink. I’d never been inside before. I didn’t want to go now. I was born and bred in Perth. We didn’t get snow, and we certainly didn’t learn how to ice-skate elegantly to impress the guy we were with.

  I begged. I pleaded. I bargained. I even tried to bribe him. In the end I could only pray I got out without a broken leg.

  He paid for us both and refused to let go of my hand in case I bolted. To be truthful, I was considering it. Then he dragged me through the center, asked my shoe size, grabbed two sets of skates, pushed me down onto a seat, and helped me on with the boots. It was the day before Christmas, so there were plenty of kids screaming their delight and having a great time, as there was no school. There were some teens and lots of parents encouraging their kids on the ice. And I was going to make a fool of myself in front of them all.

  “I really don’t want to do this, Vaughn.”

  He ignored me and urged me to my feet. “It’s summer, and it’s lovely and cool in here. The skates are solid plastic, which will mean no bumps against your foot injury. Cheer up and hold my hand.”

  I held him with a death grip as we moved onto the ice. I made it ten meters before I fell and pulled Vaughn down with me. He laughed and ignored my furiously blushing cheeks. Then we held each other as we got to our feet again and found our balance.

  Vaughn refused to let me hold on to the rail. “Nope. I like it when you’re hanging on to me instead.”

  They were playing disco tunes, and a few people skated past us in a rush, enjoying their skill and elegance on the ice. I shuffled forward and watched my feet.

  “This is not my idea of fun,” I grumbled.

  Vaughn hung on to my arm. “If I kiss you in front of all these people, will it cheer you up?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.” He pretended to think about it. “I think it would. So if you continue to be sulky, I’ll have to kiss you. Fair warning.”

  Dammit. “Bastard.”

  He grinned widely. “Nope. I’ve seen my parents’ wedding certificate.”

  Ten minutes later I could shuffle without looking at my feet. Another ten after that, and we were actually gliding along. I still gripped Vaughn’s hand, though. It was nice. Safe. He chattered about nothing, forcing replies from me in order to keep the conversation going.

  Then the DJ announced it was Christmas time. The lights dimmed and then came back up so only green and red lights shone. A lively Christmas song started up: “Winter Wonderland.”

  “We’re not really walking in a winter wonderland, are we?” I said. And I spoke too soon. Because flurries began to fall from the ceiling. Children squealed and tried to catch the “snowflakes.” One fell on Vaughn’s arm, and I touched it. It was fake.

  “I guess it’s the closest thing they could get in Perth,” Vaughn said with a shrug and pushed me to the side to avoid running over three little girls who were skating with their hands linked.

  The snow fell to the ground, and soon our skates were making small tracks along the ice. The lights were still dimmed, and I sighed. “Okay. Fine. This was a good idea. This is fun.”

  Vaughn squeezed my fingers in acknowledgment and didn’t say anything.

  Chapter Nine

  VAUGHN HAD more “rules” for us that night.

  “Tonight’s rules are you get to pick which half we remove the clothes from. Are you going to remove your pants or your shirt, and do you want me to remove my pants or my shirt? Only one half off each of us.”

  Decisions, decisions, decisions.

  We were once again in his lounge, with only the Christmas lights to illuminate us. We’d watched the Christmas concert on TV and even sung along to some of the tunes. Vaughn had made popcorn and declared he’d never tasted eggnog. I admitted I’d never had the real stuff, only eggnog-flavored drinks, so we googled how to make eggnog, read the ingredients, and gave up. The northern hemisphere would have to keep their eggnog. We had lemonade instead.

  Now, with all the popcorn and lemonade consumed, he declared his rules, picked up the bowls and cups, and left the room to allow me to make up my mind.

  The concert still played when I came to the conclusion I
needed to grab life with both hands.

  “Well?” he asked as he came back into the room.

  “Your top,” I said with a voice gone husky. He immediately placed his hands on the hem and whisked the T-shirt over his head. He dropped it to the ground carelessly and took a couple of steps forward.

  “You remember that it’s your turn to go first tonight?” he growled in a sexy, deep voice.

  Oh yes. That had been on my mind for the last six hours. I looked at that perfect chest I had perved on for so long and decided tonight was the night Geoffrey was going to relax.

  I pushed my shorts and underwear to the floor. My cock was already waving his hello to Vaughn.

  “Excellent choice,” Vaughn said approvingly and stepped closer. Then he moved in to kiss me. I reached for that delicious chest that was uncovered because I’d asked for it to be. His scent and taste were familiar but exciting at the same time. I wanted to explore further tonight. And the fact we were mismatched—his top half was bare, and my bottom half—meant we still had boundaries, and I liked that.

  At Vaughn’s urging, I sank onto the couch and stretched out. He joined me, stretching out beside me, but this time it was me who was pushed between his beautiful—gorgeous, lovely, wonderful—body and the couch back. I sort of expected Vaughn to immediately arrow into touching my cock, because after all, I had given him permission. But he was a lot more intelligent than that. We went slow. I liked slow. I loved slow. Slow was anticipation and desire and enjoying the sensation. It was enjoying the other person instead of self-gratification with something other than your own hand.

  We kissed and petted—that gentle exploration of tongues and hands that was about stoking the fires, not about setting off the ending fireworks. Time ceased to have meaning, but eventually Vaughn reached down and ran his fingers lightly over my erection. It was heaven and hell. Then he took me firmly in his grip. He broke our kiss and pulled back so he was staring into my face. His look was tender, but passions burned behind his eyes. I knew he wanted more from me, but was happy to go slower at the pace I was more comfortable with. And I had to admit, lying on his couch, Christmas lights blinking their festive message, and him tenderly holding my cock, I loved him for going slow with me.

  “Can I suck you?” he asked on a breathless whisper.

  Someone who asked permission without assuming every gay man wanted that? My heart gave two thumps in my chest and rolled over to show Vaughn its belly. I fell for him in that instant.

  “Yes.”

  This relationship may have only hours left in it, but I loved him.

  “Oh, good,” he said and went back to kissing me, this time leisurely stroking my cock at the same time. Then he slowly slithered off the couch onto the floor so he was kneeling at my side. He made sure the hem of my shirt was smoothed down, then lightly kissed my hip bone before moving to more sensitive areas. He kissed the head of my cock, sucked lightly on the underside, then, only when I gave a groan of encouragement, he placed his mouth over the length and took me inside.

  There was a problem with the long, slow buildup. And that was sometimes time was against you. All too soon I had to give him warning.

  “Vaughn? I think those eight maids a-milking are about to visit. Oh God.”

  He encouraged me on and made sure not a drop of cream was spilled. I went through the swans a-swimming stage and halted at the geese a-laying.

  Vaughn leaned over me to kiss me tenderly. “Okay?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yep. And I’m gonna be like a goose and continue a-laying here.”

  “Huh?”

  “Six geese a-laying? I’m going to just do that for a bit. Unless you have any other ideas?”

  I really hoped those ideas weren’t too active.

  “I was thinking about a night swim. It’s nine, but it’s still really warm. So how about it?”

  “Naked again?” I asked before my brain could think to engage with my mouth. I winced, knowing he’d caught that second word.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Again? And tell me, my sexy neighbor, how would you know that?”

  I thought hard. “Um. The night I came over the fence and you fainted. You were naked under the towel.”

  He gave me a look that said he wasn’t completely sold. “Hmm. Well, if you had peeked over our fence any time in the past year and caught me naked after dark, I’m okay with that.”

  “So you do it regularly?”

  He smiled. “And you have an open invitation to join me as long as you leave your trunks at home.”

  Then he helped me to my feet, stripped off his shorts, and, ignoring his erection, grabbed two towels and unconcernedly led me outside.

  Chapter Ten

  CHRISTMAS MORNING, and I was awake at seven and thinking of Vaughn, who was slightly up the hallway. We’d swum naked, and I had taken him back inside to some privacy before I helped him find his own maids-a-milking moment. And now within a couple of hours, we were going to have to part from each other’s company and toddle off to our respective family gatherings.

  I felt a pang in my chest. I didn’t want to have to part from him. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to tell myself it wasn’t true love despite the maids a-milking and pipers definitely piping. It was only infatuation.

  I dressed and emerged from the room. Vaughn was in the kitchen, dressed in only boxer shorts and eating cereal.

  “Merry Christmas,” I croaked. I didn’t know if it was because it was the first time I’d spoken that morning or because of the lump in my throat.

  He looked up, grinned, and immediately came forward. “Merry Christmas.” I stood still and waited to see what he’d do. He didn’t hesitate. He placed one hand on my shoulder and kissed me hello. It was the best Christmas present I’d had in a long while. I put my hand on his cheek and deepened the kiss.

  When we pulled back, Vaughn looked sad. “What?” I asked, immediately worried.

  “I’m going to miss you today. What time did you say you’d be home?”

  Warmth spread through my body. What did it mean if we were both going to miss each other? “I’m going for lunch, so I’ll probably leave around eleven thirty and get home about four, maybe five. We usually sit around all afternoon and complain we overate.”

  Vaughn’s family catered more for the kids and were meeting at his parents’ house as soon as they had finished breakfasts at home. He’d told me lunch was an early affair, and everyone left before two—supposedly to put the babies to bed in their own house, but Vaughn said his mum needed her nap too. He would therefore be leaving before me and be home for some hours before I returned.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, then,” Vaughn said, squeezing my shoulder. “You’ll come straight over, won’t you?”

  My hand was still on his cheek, and I drew him in just to taste him again. Santa had been generous to me this year, bringing Vaughn to me. I kissed his eyelids closed, feathered kisses along his cheeks, and then sipped at his lips. I whispered, “I’ll be over promptly, but I won’t be straight. I want to be as gay as heck with you tonight. Will you be waiting?”

  “Yes. With bells on.”

  MY HOUSE was hotter than the hells of Hades and Mount Doom combined. I opened the windows and let in some fresh air, then found some clothes to wear to Christmas Day lunch and packed the presents in the car. Vaughn had given me a key to his house so I could hang out there for a bit longer after he left, but the house felt empty without his presence. I watered my melting, shriveled plants and wondered what the hell to do.

  Not how to spend two hours on my own before I had to leave. What the hell was I going to do about Vaughn? Take a chance?

  Over the past year, I had healed from the insults Ben threw my way. There was the hurt of a relationship ending that meant so much, but there was also the licking of the wounds from the words Ben had hurled. Old. Stodgy. Boring. Unadventurous. Pathetic. Impotent.

  Another man may’ve gone out and done everything he could to prove to himself and Ben that
those words didn’t apply. But for me, I dwelled on them for a year and had come to the realization some of the words were true. But that I was okay with that. In fact, I wore them with pride.

  Old and stodgy? Well, yes. I was over forty now. Okay, I was now forty-four years old, and I didn’t need to be ashamed. I wasn’t old old. I was mature. I had more wisdom. I was proud to be forty-four and counting.

  Boring and unadventurous? Maybe. And maybe it was also my genes that helped the caveman tribe survive when people like Ben were out trying to suck the dick of a brontosaurus. Boring and unadventurous were more than fine with me.

  Pathetic and impotent? Vaughn knew the truth of that one. And that’s all the people who really needed to know, right? I no longer cared what Ben or anyone else thought about my sex life. I no longer cared about Ben’s sex life.

  I was going to go and have fun at Christmas with my family, and then I was going to come home and enjoy myself by having fun with Vaughn.

  I showered, dressed, and drove to my aunt and uncle’s house. I smiled and adored the noises and messes the kids made when opening their presents. I blushed and shrugged modestly when Aunty Linda raved about the present I’d found for her. I genuinely gasped with delight at the miniature barbecue—called a Baby Q—I received and eagerly checked out all the functions and knobs.

  And then I laughed with happiness when my brother, George, stood up and made the big announcement—they were pregnant again. The tradition of each person having exactly two children was broken and smashed.

  My grandmother pulled me aside as the afternoon wore on. “You’re happy again, Geoffrey. I haven’t seen you happy for a while. You’re making all of us happy too. We all love you, and we were sad when you were sad because we couldn’t make things right for you.”

  I hugged her—not too tightly, because she was shrinking with each year—and confessed, “I’ve met someone new, Grandma. I really like him.”