Page 61 of The Boy from Half Moon

We couldn’t have looked more dissimilar if we tried. Me, in my ever-present jeans and button-down, looking like a farmer. Him, in his always stylish clothing, polished from head to toe. Me, a country boy, dreaming that the land was mine. That he was mine. Him, a city slicker in the middle of nowhere. The pair of us made an odd coupling, for sure.

“There is nothing I wish more for you than this becoming a reality for you.”

“I’d like to share this with you,” I whispered, turning to face him.

I towered over him when wearing my worn, dirty boots. His stylish shoes were now covered in dust. He tilted his head up and we locked eyes. Instinctively, I knew there was something that I should do at that moment, but my mind raced with indecision.

Tate let go of my hand and stepped forward, his eyes still locked on mine. I found my head tilting forward as he moved closer to my face. I inhaled quickly, closing my eyes just as our lips connected. We brushed lips softly at first as Tate’s hands gently held the sides of my face. My skin felt electric the moment our lips touched.

I moved my hands to his waist and then around to his lower back, lifting him to his toes as I sought to get as close to him as I possibly could. Tate opened his mouth slightly and moved his tongue across my lips. My jeans tightened as my body reacted to his touch. A fire burned inside me and was warming every inch of me. Images of our bodies intertwined, naked, and wrestling with each other loaded my brain with powerful visions of want.

Tate pulled back, his hands still holding my face. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

I pulled him closer and smothered his lips with mine, my body pressed hard against his. I was out of my mind with desire as we kissed. His tongue darted in and out of my mouth as I chased his with my own. I could not get enough of him.

Tate slid his hand to the front of my jeans, outlining my erection as he stroked me over the denim. I instantly jumped back and froze.

“Please don’t do that,” I gasped.

I would’ve expected that I’d ruined the moment; maybe he’d jump backward or be mad at me, but his reaction was nothing like that. “Whatever you want, Luke,” he said, moving his hands to my hips and smiling. “I will never hurt you. Please keep that in mind.”

I leaned forward, needing his mouth on mine again. I was hungry for more of him. I needed him to be even closer, as I manipulated his body to meet mine. “You feel so good,” I whispered breathlessly, my mouth kissing his face and nose.

“And you feel amazing. How was kissing?” he asked.

“Unlike what I expected,” I admitted. “You taste good,” I added. “Is that a strange thing to say?”

“Not in the least.”

“What do we do next?” I asked, kissing his forehead while pulling him closer. “Is there more?”

I felt like a kid who just learned to read. I wanted more words, more lines to read, more chapters to devour, more stories to be absorbed. Kissing was incredibly personal, and I couldn’t imagine it being better with anyone but Tate.

“There is a lot more, Luke,” he began, holding both of my hands. “And I’m afraid some of the ways to show your love will be familiar to you, but possibly bring up painful memories.”

“Sex, right?” I asked, embarrassed that I was unsure.

“Yes. What can come next, and hopefully will come next, would be consensual sex,” he explained. “You would decide. And if you choose to have sex with me, we can talk about each act before we try. If you find any of the physical acts unpleasant, we will always stop and discuss what you’re feeling inside.”

“You’d do all that for me?” I asked. “You wouldn’t think I was weird or childish?”

Tate slid his hand behind my belt buckle, between my skin and jeans, pulling me closer. At first, his action alarmed me, but he didn’t go any further than resting his hand just inside my jeans, waiting for any adverse reaction from me.

“This okay?” he asked. I nodded and exhaled, relieved he asked. “These sorts of touches and casual, affectionate movements are all a part of getting physically close to each other,” he explained. “And I would never accuse you of being childish because you experienced abuse.”

“And you would still consider me manly and the kind of person who you would want to have sex with?” I asked. “You know…” I hesitated about how to say the next words. “You know, like… when we decided to have sex?”

“Here is what I need you to hear, Luke,” he began. I nodded and listened very carefully. I did not want to miss any important details about sex. “You are very attractive to me. I think about you all the time, and yes, plenty of that time is me thinking about having sex with you. You are all man and trust me, I have never wanted a man more—sexually—than I want you.”

His direct way of speaking lifted a huge weight from my chest. He sounded how I felt. “And you mean that?” I asked.

“I one hundred percent mean that. We can take all the time you need. You can ask questions about sex, and we could explore each other’s bodies if you liked, and we wouldn’t have to have sex when we did the exploring.”

“A little at a time, right?” I asked.

“A little at a time,” he agreed.

“What’s the chance we can do more kissing? I’m really liking that so far.”

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