Looking for Trouble(46)

Dylan gasped, and Clay was pretty sure that was the first time he’d even said Gordon’s name to Dylan. How could it be the first time? “Did you used to come here with him?” Dylan asked.

Clay turned to look at him. “No, I swear I didn’t. This wasn’t our place or anything. I came the first year because I couldn’t imagine being home, and then I just kept coming. Is that okay? I don’t want it to make things strange. If you want to go somewhere else, we can.”

Dylan smiled so damn sweetly, it yanked the breath straight from Clay’s lungs.

“No, we don’t have to go somewhere else. But I love that you asked. Maybe we can find a way to still honor him, but make some happy memories here too.”

Clay laid his hand over Dylan’s and squeezed. Asking him to come had been the right decision. “I think that’s a good idea. Gordon would like it. He’d be glad I’m letting myself be happy again.”

Dylan’s smile brightened so vividly, it almost blinded him, and damned if he wouldn’t have freely given his vision if that was the last thing he saw.

“You’re so obviously dancing with me tonight,” Dylan teased, and Clay figured, yeah, he probably was. The little shit was good at getting his way.

“Gimme a kiss, Trouble.”

“If you insist.” Dylan unbuckled his seat belt, crawled over the seat, and straddled Clay’s lap. It was a tight, uncomfortable fit, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. He loved how Dylan felt in his arms.

Clay leaned in, and they nudged noses. He went to kiss Dylan, but he pulled back slightly, playfully.

“Tease,” Clay gritted out, his voice husky with lust.

“Oh, did you want to kiss me? I thought I was supposed to be kissing you.”

He leaned in again, and Dylan pulled back a second time. Clay had never really been playful the way he was with Dylan, and it felt good. Everything about him felt good.

“Sit still and let me kiss you, Clay.”

“You’re a feisty boy, aren’t you?”

“I just like to get my way.”

Clay waited as Dylan took his time leaning in, taking his mouth, dipping his tongue inside. Dylan’s hips bucked as Clay held them, then teased his fingers under Dylan’s shirt because he really needed to touch his skin. He craved Dylan in ways he didn’t know it was possible to crave another person, hungered for him as though he’d been starving his whole life.

Dylan flicked his tongue against Clay’s, nibbled his lip, rode his lap, making Clay’s cock swell and ache.

He slipped his hand down the back of Dylan’s jeans, fingered his crack, and Dylan’s hands tightened at his nape as his tongue swept Clay’s mouth.

Christ, he already wanted to come, wanted to bend Dylan over the seat and take him.

Just then something cold pressed against his neck, a whimper in his ear that definitely wasn’t Dylan.

Trouble pulled back and looked over Clay’s shoulder. “Aw, Dakota, are you jealous? Did we forget about you?”

She whined and licked the side of Clay’s face. He had the urge to put her outside so he and Dylan could finish what they started.

“Poor girl. Do you need to go outside?” Trouble moved to climb off his lap.

“Wait. Really? You’re going to leave me like this?” Clay pointed down at the obvious bulge in his jeans. Dylan was sporting one too.

“Oops. Sorry, but Dakota has to go out. It can’t be helped.”

He finished sliding off Clay’s lap, to the passenger seat, and opened the door. Clay playfully reached for him, but Dylan jumped out of the truck. “I want you.” He tried to do his own eyelash fluttery thing, but it must not have worked because Dylan just laughed at him.

“And you’ll have me…after we dance at the drum circle tonight.” Dylan turned to Dakota. “Come on, girl. Daddy Dylan loves you. He’ll take you out.”

Dakota looked at Clay as if he were a traitor before she jumped down, and Dylan ran around the side of the small cabin with her. Shaking his head, Clay got out of the truck and followed them.

He took his time walking around the cabin, toward the back, where there was a long porch that ran the length of it and then the lake about two hundred feet away. They were nestled in trees as far as the eye could see.

Dakota was doing her business, and Dylan was already down by the lake, standing there, looking at the water. Clay walked down to join him, wrapped his arms around Dylan from behind.

“We’ll honor them both this weekend,” Dylan said softly. “We’ll be happy and enjoy ourselves and find a way to honor them both—Gordon and my dad.”

Clay kissed the top of his head, tightened his hold on Dylan. “I like the sound of that.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE




Dylan


“Oh my God. This is the cutest cabin ever,” Dylan said as Clay unlocked the door. Not that he’d ever stayed at a cabin in the woods before. “You know we can play all kinds of kinky games out here. I can be Little Red Riding Hood and you’re the Big Bad Wolf. Oh, or I can be Goldilocks and you’re the bear who comes and finds me sleeping in your bed. What would you do to punish me?”

“I like where this is going,” Clay replied as he set their bags down.

“Or maybe I was lost in the woods and you found me and captured me! This is fun!”