Sins of Omission

by T S McKinney

  A loud banging on the bathroom door sent my heart straight up into my throat, but before I could open my mouth to respond, Eli’s deep voice echoed throughout our cabin, my hiding spot included.

  “Teeth and shower, angel! It isn’t that hard, yet I don’t hear any water running! We’ve got to get some food in your stomach before you get sick again.” His voice indicated his was on the other side of the door, probably close enough that his hands leaned on it, bracing all those hot muscles and delicious tattoos. “Ten minutes and then I’m coming in there!”

  Unable to hold back my sassiness, I answered with, “Ha! The door’s locked, asshole. Good luck with that.”

  “Locks don’t stop me, angel; we both know this.”

  Fuck, he probably wasn’t bluffing. I’d watched my dad unlock locked doors my entire life. Seth could do it faster than I could break into someone’s computer system. Something told me Baker would hold the same talent. Bottom line—it wasn’t a chance I wanted to take. It was bad enough that he’d already seen the worst of me. I looked down at my walk-on-the-wild-side skimpy briefs. Hell, he’d seen all of me.

  Embarrassed, I pushed away from the door and made my way to the toilet, did my morning business, and then went to the sink. I had to bite my own lips to keep the smile from forming as I washed my hands. Eli, apparently bored stiff while I’d been sleeping off the motion sickness pills, had unpacked for both of us. I opened a drawer and noticed all his stuff was dumped haphazard inside the small space. My toiletries, however, were meticulously placed on the counter top, lined up perfectly, just the way I would have set them. As I brushed my teeth, I tried not to think about what that meant, or what it did to my already bruised and damaged heart.

  He’d handled the small shower area the same way, placing my toiletries in the perfect spaces, so my shower moved along quickly. The morning wood I’d woken up with had to be taken care of, even when I was under a time crunch, so I squirted some liquid soap onto my palm and started stroking my painfully hard cock. Since nobody had ever been in my bed for more than some playful foreplay…which always ended with any real play-time, I knew exactly how to tend to the matter myself. Between the abundance of times I’d jacked myself off and the images of Eli wearing nothing more than a skintight boxer brief swimsuit, my cum splashed against the shower wall in record time.

  There—now I could calm down and act like an intelligent human being again. Earlier, when my brain had been out-of-order due to a lack of blood flow, since all blood had been located in my cock, I wasn’t capable of functioning properly. That was all behind me now, I told myself as I watched the remnants of my body’s fluids disappear down the drain…like I wished Eli would.

  After turning off the water and drying my body, I wrapped the towel around my waist and went about my normal morning routine. I brushed my teeth for the second time, flossed, put some moisturizer on my face, lotion on the body, and scrubbed my hands clean. After scrubbing thoroughly, I half-way dried my hair, added product in an attempt to keep it somewhat under control—windy decks and sea-damp air made my hair even curlier which, in turn, made me look even younger.

  Younger was not the look I was going for.

  After scrubbing my hands again, I looked around the small bathroom. Yes, it was larger than most since I’d paid a ridiculously outrageous price for one of the largest suites—the only rooms available under such short notice—but it was still compact. So compact, in fact, it only took me a few seconds to realize the room, my latest prison, didn’t hold one stitch of clothing for me to put on. Nothing. I had a towel. That was it.

  Could I face Eli wearing nothing but a towel? Shit, I guessed I didn’t really have a choice. My body, thanks to the training my father insisted on, wasn’t as scrawny as it had been when Eli and I had first dated, but it was nothing compared to Eli’s muscular physique. Next to him, I’d probably look like a teenage kid.

  Again, not the look I was aiming for.

  I took a deep breath and realized I had no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but my towel, and face the demon, aka Eli. He’d mentioned that I needed food in my body and I was famished to the point of feeling weak, but he was sadly mistaken on what was going to happen first. The very second I finished dressing and was ready to leave the room, my happy ass was headed to customer service to demand another room for Eli, even if I had to be the one to pay for it. Eli sleeping in my cabin was not an option. Just as I reached for the door handle, it made a funny noise and Eli stepped inside the room…making the small space suddenly seem breath-stealing tiny. I’d lived my life with a lot of phobias listed next to my name, but claustrophobia had never been one of them…until now. I took a step back and felt my hip bump into the countertop, stopping my retreat.

  Eli grinned. “Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t make it in time and I’d walk in to find you still in the shower or, at least, naked.” He shook his head. “I guess the gods are against me, yeah?”

  My foot stomped in frustration. “Eli! You can’t just unlock doors and invade people’s privacy like that! It’s…it’s…rude!” The thoughts of him walking into the room and seeing me jerk off nearly sent me into panic mode.

  He shrugged. “I am rude—thought you already knew that about me, but I guess it looks like we’ll have a learning curve as we get to know each other again.” He stepped aside and motioned for me to join him. “I laid your clothes out for the day. Hurry up, angel,” he pleaded. “I’m starved. You weren’t the only one that missed lunch and dinner yesterday.”

  I frowned as I tightened the towel around my waist. “Why did you miss lunch and dinner? I was passed out cold from the motion sickness pills.” I breezed past him, trying to act all nonchalant and shit, as I spoke. True to his word, my clothes, tags still on them, were displayed on the bed, which he’d stripped of the sheets I’d probably sweated and puked on. “I think it was safe for you to leave the room. The men trying to hurt my father couldn’t have hauled my unconscious ass past security, I don’t think.” As I talked, I stared at the clothes he’d laid out…and questioned what in the bloody hell I’d been thinking when I’d made my purchases for this trip. Sure, I’d thought that I would be alone, venturing out into the real world where nobody I knew could judge me or consider me a kid amongst a group of adults. With Eli in the room and my clothing selection on the king-sized bed, I immediately questioned my sanity. Or bravery. Or whatever the fuck anybody wanted to call it.

  Prominently displayed on the bed was a pair of itsy bitsy pale pink speedo swimming trunks, a pair of white booty shorts, and a cut-off T-shirt that said ride this. Holy fuck! How drunk had I been when I’d ordered this shit?

  Eli looked at me, a happy smirk on his face, as he watched while I stared at the presentation on the bed. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked. “Are you worried about the shoes? Because they’re by the door…ready and waiting for you.” He motioned toward a pair of pink flip flops that matched my speedos.

  “I’m…I’m…I can’t wear that,” I finally whispered.

  “What do you mean you can’t wear it?” Eli asked with a frown. “I pulled them out of your luggage.” He picked up one of my Louis Vuitton pieces of luggage and asked, “This is your luggage, isn’t it? I mean, your name is on it.”

  I refused to be intimidated by him. “Of course, it’s my luggage,” I snapped. “As you pointed out, you can clearly see my name on it. I simply don’t intend to wear my usual attire when I’m around you. It makes me…uncomfortable.” Shit, that sounded stupid. And weak. And wimpy. And lots of other things that pissed me off. This cruise was supposed to be my coming-out party. It was going to be when I quit worrying about what others thought, stopped worrying about my age, and tried to live life to the fullest. I couldn’t do that bullshit in front of Eli—he knew me.

  Eli crossed his arms over his impressive chest. “Why would you purchase it if it made you feel uncomfortable?”

  Good question…one I didn’t intend to answer.

>   “None of your business. I’ll pick something else out to wear,” I said as I started toward my luggage. Panic gripped my insides—everything I’d brought was similar to what Eli had laid out on the bed. I’d truly meant to force myself outside of my own boundaries…my own comfort zone. The only way I’d seen to accomplish that was to only pack shit I wouldn’t normally wear. If I’d packed my knee-length board shorts, I would have worn them every day.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He blocked my path to the suitcases. “I think you’ll look hot in what I’ve laid out, angel. Give it a try. We’re only going to the breakfast buffet. If you start to feel uncomfortable, we’ll come back to the room and change. Agreed?”

  Instead of agreed, my mind was screaming abort.

  My mouth, however, answered, “Fine. I’m starved. I don’t have time to argue with you.” I shoved him aside and made my way over toward the bed. “Turn around, Eli. I’d appreciate some privacy to get dressed!” I snapped irritably. There was nothing worse than having well-laid plans backfire in your face.

  He grinned. “I’ll do even better than that. I’ll step out on the balcony while you get dressed. Fair enough?” he asked.

  “No peeking,” I said to his broad back as I watched him disappear through the sliding glass doors.

  Why did he have to be so fucking gorgeous and I had to be so…inexperienced? I wasn’t ugly—guys generally loved how I looked. They just didn’t like how socially inept I was. I was wasting my time. No matter how good the pink speedos made my ass look, there would be no hiding the fact that I didn’t fit in…that I wasn’t knowledgeable in the art of seduction or fucking.

  Frustrated, I yanked the tags off the speedos and slid them onto my body—keeping the towel safely wrapped around my waist until the swimming trunks covered my ass. Well, shit. I’d forgotten that the back of them were made of lace. Perfect…just fucking perfect.

  Hoping that no one would ever get the chance to see them, I quickly slid into the white, stretch booty shorts and shoved my head and arms into the holes of the T-shirt. Without even glancing at the wall made of mirrors, I already knew I looked like somebody that belonged in a strip club, gyrating on a stripper pole.

  Except I didn’t know how to gyrate…or strip…or work a pole—stripper or otherwise.

  Once dressed, my stomach growled irritably, reminding me that I was starved to death. Before I could yell for Eli to return to the room, he slid the doors open and stepped back inside. His eyes, all gray and stormy, swept up my body…down again…up again…and then a feral smile turned his lips upward.

  “Very sexy, angel. I like.”

  “It’s not for you,” I snapped. While I hadn’t bought the new clothes expecting Eli to ever see them…they had been purchased with him in mind. The tiny red devil with the gorgeous black wings that sat on my left shoulder had whispered how fucking sexy I would look and how regretful Eli would be that he never got to see me as the man I’d grown to be. The tiny white angel that sat on my right shoulder, wimpy with droopy wings, had merely chuckled at my expense.

  Eli answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe they weren’t for me, but I sure as hell am going to benefit from the purchase. Like I said, angel, you are one sexy motherfucker in those skin-tight pastels. I may have to strap my cock to my upper thigh to keep it from making an appearance while on deck.”

  For the first time since I’d walked out of the bathroom, I noticed that Eli had changed clothing as well. When I’d left him to shower, he’d been wearing some black boxer briefs and a black T-shirt that had The Topping Is My Favorite written across it. Now he was wearing some black leather shorts that were molded to his perfectly shaped rump like a second skin and a red mesh top that could easily be seen through. He looked so fucking edible that I felt my cock try to do a happy dance inside my speedo. Instead of complimenting him, though, I said, “Leather is stupid for swimming and the sun. Those are going to melt onto your body and you’ll never get them off.”

  Holy fuck! Were those nipple piercings? Did Eli have his nipples pierced? How had I not noticed that at the club? Had the harness thing he wore covered his nipples? It had to have. I would have never not noticed that. His hotness level, which was already erupting like a volcano, just shot another wave of lava onto me.

  “It isn’t leather, smartass,” he quipped playfully. “Now, let’s go eat. I’m starved.” He took two steps, stopped, and then frowned down at me. “I showered while you were still snoring like a powder puff, Ari. Stop looking at me like I’m too nasty for you to touch.” Then, with a ruffle to my hair, which he knew would piss me off, he walked on past me and grabbed the straw bag I’d purchased to use while poolside. It said Cabana Boy Wanted.

  God, I was such a dumbass.

  I knew I was a dumbass. Eli knew I was a dumbass. Before the day was over, everybody on the boat would know it. Yes, folks, I had dumbassery down to a science.

  I straightened my back and slid my feet into the flip flops. “First of all, what type of fabric is it if it isn’t leather, because it sure looks like leather to me. Secondly, you won’t be touching me, so there’s nothing to worry about on whether you showered or not. Thirdly, and most important, I don’t snore.”

  Eli opened the cabin door and shoved me into the hallway. “First of all, it’s breathable polyurethane which not only stretches and molds to fit your physique perfectly, but it allows air to pass through as well. Secondly, I will be touching you…as often as I want to. Thirdly, I was only kidding about the snoring thing.” He grinned at me as he pointed which direction I needed to walk. “You snore way more like a freight train than a powder puff—I was trying to be polite.”

  Chapter Five

  Eli

  I was pleasantly shocked; breakfast at the buffet had gone surprisingly well with my cabin mate acting a bit like the old Ari I remembered and loved. Since we had been early risers that morning, due to Ari’s motion sickness forcing an early retirement to bed the previous night, there wasn’t a large number of men gathered in the dining room—most were still sleeping off the remnants of the Wizard of Oz party the boat had sponsored the first night. I was thankful because smaller crowds would give Ari a better adjustment period. I knew that booking the gay cruise had been his way of trying to escape me, so I suspected he hadn’t spent nearly enough time researching all the on-board activities they had planned. While the events, parties, and private rooms excited the hell out of me, especially since I was with Ari, I seriously doubted he knew anything at all about what to expect. I sure as hell didn’t see him participating in any of the events—he’d made it abundantly clear how he viewed the BDSM lifestyle, so I could probably count on one hand how many kinks might interest my boy.

  He ate like a horse, shoveling food in as fast as possible while still maintaining his proper manners, while his gaze ate up the scenery with excitement. Not for the first time, his actions made me wonder how he’d spent the last few years without me in his life. Much to my dismay, he appeared as backward and alone as he had back in college.

  “You might want to slow your eating down a bit, champ,” I warned playfully. “We aren’t one hundred percent the wrist bands and the ear patch are going to work with your motion sickness.” I hoped to hell they did; he’d passed out cold when he’d taken the medication I’d found and purchased for him last night.

  He sat his fork and knife down and stared at his empty plate for a few seconds. “Nope; I feel perfectly fine. I might have just had a stomach bug or something. I’m good to go now.” He looked toward the pastry section. “I’m going after another croissant. Need anything?”

  He stood up and my eyes immediately went straight to the bulge between his legs. Hell, what did he expect? Those booty shorts did very little, if anything, to hide his package. After seeing him in bed this morning, his morning wood nearly bursting out of his tiny briefs, I was amazed the shorts were capable of containing him at all.

  “Food, Eli?” he asked with a frustrated stomp of his foo
t. “I’m trying to offer an olive branch here,” he huffed.

  “Uh…oh…no, I’m good.” I patted my stomach. “I’ve had enough.” Looking him up and down, slow and lazy, I said, “I have no idea where you pack all that food.”

  He shrugged and walked away from me, his bubble ass looking gloriously plump, firm, and well-rounded in the body-hugging booty shorts. “Yeah…now I know. Gorgeous view from behind, angel.” I’m sure I had to be imagining it, but following my words, there appeared to be an extra twist in his walk. That exaggerated twist of his hips was a glimpse of the old Ari I’d fallen in love with—it was like I got to see something of him that nobody else witnessed. He’d made me feel so fucking special, like I deserved extra.

  Then I’d learned about his lie, and my entire world had crumbled in on me.

  Pain caused me to force my eyes away from him and focus on the beautiful scenery of the ocean all around us. Today was a day at sea, so there was nothing but ocean for as far as the eye could see. Being on a cruise like this with Ari had been a fantasy of mine for many years. Being on a cruise like this with Ari hating me…not so much.

  Before the unease of Ari’s betrayal wormed its way back into my heart, the object of my affection returned—his plate piled high with fresh fruit and some chocolate sauce to dip it in. From the looks of his plate, the bracelets and patches were a definite success in easing his motion sickness. Watching him dip the fruit in the thick, creamy chocolate and then shoving it between his lips caused a different sort of motion altogether to happen with me…inside my tight swimming trunks.

  “So,” he said between mouthfuls of strawberries and pineapple, “I guess I’m not sea-sick anymore. It must have been the alcohol.”

  I laughed. “Probably not, angel. You’re wearing motion sickness wrist bracelets and patches behind your right ear. I’m pretty sure you’d still be sick if you didn’t have those anchoring you.”