“I’m a city driver. We curse a lot and worry about scratching our paintwork.”
Toby let the other van pass, then started forwards again. “Really? You don’t strike me as a material dude.”
“I’m not, but maybe only because my car is a heap of shit.”
“It’s a BMW.”
“It’s twenty years old. And you’re missing my point.”
“What is your point?”
“That you seem to be a man who can turn his hand to anything.”
“Not Pilates. Ask Angelo.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Pilates can be taught. I could drive down this road every day for the rest of my life and still be a danger to anyone coming the other way.”
Toby’s puzzled grin remained. He eased the van along the tiny road until we came to a small car park packed with identical vans to the one we were in, all sand-swept and loaded with surfboards. Toby pulled into a space and killed the engine, then he turned, and for a moment, I wondered if he’d reach for me.
He didn’t, though. And I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed, or if the heady mix of the two coursing through me would just about kill me. Becausefuck, I wanted to kiss him again and relive every moment I’d had him on my bed a hundred times over, but at the same time, we were in a public place, and how much I wanted to kiss him was unsettling as hell. I’d always been motivated by sex, even more so since I’d spent time learning a deeper sense of self and the way the mind and body could connect to take me to higher peaks of pleasure than I’d ever known before, but I’d never craved such simple intimacy the way I did with Toby right now. Considering I’d only known him a few weeks, it was a trip I didn’t know what to do with.
Yeah, you do. Let him know how he makes you feel so he stops going through life thinking no one sees him that way. Give him the confidence he deserves so he believes the next person who tells him.
Right? It seemed so simple when I thought about it in terms of the casual arrangement we’d come to, but I couldn’t quite ignore the devil on my shoulder who didn’t want to think about Toby with anyone else.
“Um, Cole?”
I blinked. “Yeah?”
“Never mind. Come on, I’ll grab my board and show you around.”
He jumped out of the van before I could respond. Lacking any better ideas, I did the same and met him at the open side door. He had a surfboard and a wet suit tucked away beneath the unfolded bed. “Wow. This thing is a bedroom on wheels, huh?”
Toby slid his board out. “I think it was literally that for Joe when he was younger. He didn’t have much time away from the farm, so he’d come surfing and sleep on the beach to get a break from it.”
“You talk about Joe a lot.”
“I know. I didn’t really see many other people until Harry started bringing his friends around.”
“How long have you worked on the farm?”
“Ten years.”
“That’s a long time. I guess you grew up there. Joe’s like a brother, eh?”
Toby blushed. “Yeah, I s’pose.”
I wanted to ask if he’d ever crushed on his boss, but his flushed cheeks gave him away, and I couldn’t blame him. Joe was a man I could’ve looked at all day if Toby hadn’t so entirely captured my attention. As it was, I let it go. Toby made me curious in odd ways, but if there was anything that was going to distract me from psychoanalysing his young soul, it was him stripping his clothes to shimmy into his wet suit. I gave him some privacy and retreated to the front of the van, but I’d have been lying if I claimed I didn’t take a peek in the wing mirror once his junk was covered.
His back was everything. Smooth, lean, strong. I wanted to roam my hands over it again, preferably with him bent over while I—
Jesus Christ, give it a rest. Or at least save it for tomorrow.
I had no intention of fucking Toby tomorrow, though. Mainly because he wasn’t ready, but also because I was a selfish prick who wanted to spend as much time naked with him as possible. I wasn’t down with our sessions peaking so soon. I wanted to string them out. Because Toby was gorgeous, and despite my vaguely noble intentions, I was only fucking human.
Or a human obsessed with fucking.
Whatever.