Page 43 of Playing with My Heart

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmured, though I wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. My gaze lingered on his face, illuminated by the soft golden glow of the moon above.

“Nothing compares to you,” he replied, his voice husky, laced with an emotion that made my heart feel like it might burst out of my chest.

He tilted his head, closing of the small distance between us. His lips met mine in a kiss that was tender at first, hesitant—like the delicate brush of a butterfly’s wing. But the hesitation evaporated as quickly as it came, and the kiss deepened, fueled by the pent-up longing we’d both been holding back. There was a hunger in the way Travis kissed me, a fervent need that matched the urgency thrumming through my veins.

Our hands began to wander, emboldened by the passion that crackled between us like the sparks from the fire. His fingers traced the line of my jaw before threading through my hair, tugging gently, eliciting a low moan that vibrated against his lips. My own hands roamed across the expanse of his back, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt—an unspoken testament to the strength that lay beneath his playful exterior.

The kisses grew more insistent, more demanding. Our breaths mingled, ragged and hot, as we explored each other with a newfound fervor. The world beyond our small clearing ceased to exist; there was only the two of us and the fire we stoked within one another with every touch, every sigh.

“Travis,” I gasped when his lips trailed down the sensitive skin of my neck, marking a path that seared into my memory. His name on my lips was both a plea and a declaration, a sound that seemed to resonate with every fiber of my being.

“Parker,” he whispered back, the sound reverberating through me. His hands slipped under my shirt, exploring my torso with a reverence that left me breathless. The calloused pads of his fingers sent a trail of fire wherever they roamed.

There was no rush, no end goal in sight—only the desire to savor each moment, to memorize the way he made me feel: cherished, wanted, like I was the only person who mattered to him. The boundaries of friendship that once defined us melted away, leaving in their wake the thrilling realization that this—whatever this was—was real, and it was ours.

Stumbling into the tent, our laughter mingled with the rustling of nylon and the soft thud of our gear pushed hastily aside. We continued to explore each other with an urgency that had been building all evening. Travis quickly lit a lantern then turned his attention back to me.

“God, Parker,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire. His hands roamed my back before slipping beneath my shirt to tracethe contours of my spine, his touch sending shivers through me despite the warmth of the tent.

“I need to feel you,” I murmured, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, revealing miles and miles of taut muscles and smooth skin. My fingers danced across his chest, delighting in the way his breath hitched when I brushed over his nipples.

He mirrored my actions, stripping me of my own shirt, his eyes darkened with passion as he took in the sight of me. “Please, let me make you feel good,” he whispered as he hovered over me, kissing my lips, my chin, down the column of my throat.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice hitching as Travis clamped his lips over my nipple. His tongue circled the tiny nub, teasing it into a sharp peak. My back arched when he gently bit down, a low moan rumbling up from my chest.

He continued his exploration, his lips brushing across my sensitive flesh, planting a trail of tantalizing kisses down my chest and over my stomach, making a detour to my navel. His tongue flicked across it, dipping in teasingly before cool breath blew across the area. My head spun as all my blood rushed south, making me achingly hard.

“Travis!” His name was a plea on my lips, but I wasn’t even sure what I was begging for.

A low growl emanated from his chest as he scooted lower, letting me know he was as turned on by what we were doing as I was. His tongue traced a line just above the waistband of my pants and then he was reaching for them, yanking them down my legs and tossing them and my shoes somewhere behind him. He quickly rid me of my socks and underwear and then he settled in between my legs as I spread them, accommodating the broad width of his shoulders.

His strong hands gripped my hips, urging me closer. I felt his breath against me before the warm wetness of his mouthenveloped me. A gasp tore from my throat, and I tangled my fingers in his silky locks. I saw stars as Travis’s mouth began to work its magic along my length, his movements steady and sure, as if we’d been doing this together for years.

“Please,” I cried.

“What do you need, Parker? Tell me,” he urged, his tongue circling the weeping head of my cock.

“You,” I answered breathlessly. “I need you, in my mouth.”

Travis elicited a pleased sound, his movements quick as he stripped himself the rest of the way. He lay down naked beside me, facing the opposite direction. Someday, very soon I wanted to take my time, memorizing every glorious inch of him, but not this time. I was too close, the handle on my control stretched much too thin.

Rolling onto my side, I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock. He was rock hard, the head a slightly deeper color than the rest of him, the slit weeping continuously with precum. My mouth watered at the sight, and I wrapped my lips around the head, taking his length into my mouth.

I tasted him, savoring the saltiness, the very essence of Travis, as I took him deeper. He groaned, his hips rocking gently, testing my gag reflex as his mouth worked miracles on my own cock. We moved in synch, a testament to the trust and desire that bound us. The pleasure built, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm, but we held on, determined to make this moment last, to show with each caress how deep our feelings ran.

“Travis,” I breathed against his skin as we both neared the edge, “I’m?—”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice strained. Together we tipped over, waves of release crashing over us as we clung to each other, drinking each other down.

After, there was only the sound of our heavy breathing and the occasional crackle of the fire outside. Travis moved back up, so we were face to face, pulling me into his arms. The afterglow wrapped around us like a blanket, the night air cooling the sweat on our skin.

Travis reached up and traced my fingers with his fingertip. “I had no idea,” he whispered softly.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes swam with emotion in the light from the lantern. “I’ve had plenty of—experiences.” He winced at the reminder, so I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. We both had a past, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was what happened between the two of us. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, even with all of that, I never knew sex could feel like this. Like what we did was bigger than the two of us, like we were creating something new.”

His eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep, but I stayed awake long enough to put the fire out and smiling at the wonder I’d heard in his voice. “We did create something,” I whispered back. “We were making love.”

---