Page 26 of The Forbidden Summer
Van
The cabin had started to shrink on us, suffocating with the thick fog of sexual tension. Over breakfast, we agreed to get outside today and hike. We’re collecting kindling, me searching for dry branches, him pointing out the best berries along the bushes.
As we walk, Père hums, and a smile teases my lips just listening to him. The lull between us is comfortable, but the more I’m near him, the more it’s impossible not to notice how every glance, every brush of our arms, feels charged.
I catch myself stealing glances at him—at the way his hand brushes through his hair, or the way his mouth quirks whenhe’s thinking.
He catches me looking, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “What?” His question has a teasing note beneath it, but there’s something else in his eyes. Something more.
I reach into my shorts and adjust my dick, now growing thicker with want. A nervous laugh slips past my lips. “Nothing,” I say innocently, but the look in his eyes says he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Père doesn’t answer, just looks at me for a moment longer than usual. The world feels like it’s holding its breath, the soft rustle of leaves and the quiet chirping of birds now almost deafening in the sudden stillness. Then, as if on cue, the first drop of rain hits my cheek, cool and unexpected.
I look up, the sky now overcast, dark clouds rolling in. Another drop hits, then another. The storm breaks wide open, the rain coming down in a torrential rush, drenching us before we have time to react.
We both laugh, surprised, unprepared, but it’s not the kind of laugh that feels awkward. It’s the kind of laugh that’s freeing—laughter without care, without the worry of everything else pressing down on us. The rain’s cold at first, but the way he looks at me, the way the water streams down his face, it feels like everything I’ve been waiting for.
Père laughs, lifting his face to the sky, welcoming it, letting the cold water hit him full force. I stand there for a moment, just watching him, my heart skipping a beat.
And in that moment, it’s just us, standing in the middle of the downpour, with nothing but each other and the storm surrounding us. Something changes. Something clicks. And it’s impossible to ignore. The air crackles with the same kind of energy I’ve been feeling between us for what feels like forever.
And then, before I even realize what’s happening, I’m takinga step closer, drawn to him, the rain swirling around us, the world melting away. My heart’s pounding, but it’s not from the cold or the storm.
The next thing I know, I’m standing right in front of him. His eyes are wide, like he’s unsure what to do, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“Shit,” I laugh, wiping rain from my eyes. “Not exactly how I envisioned this walk.”
Père’s grin is wide, unbothered, like this is exactly how he envisioned it. “I think I’m starting to like the rain.”
I can’t help but smile back, even though the water is now dripping down the back of my neck and soaking into my clothes. It’s cold, but it doesn’t matter. Not with Père standing so close.
I reach out, lightly touching his arm, pulling him closer as if the space between us isn’t enough. The touch is quick, but it lingers.
This moment feels so fragile, so right, and yet so terrifying. Because everything in me wants to close the distance, to feel him, to taste him, but I’m not sure if he wants the same.
Père steps closer, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and my breath hitches. His touch is light, almost tentative, but it’s enough to send my pulse racing. It’s a small thing, but it feels like an invitation.
My mind is racing, but my body stays still. I can’t think anymore. I don’t care about anything but this moment, about the way his eyes are searching mine, the way he’s standing so close, just barely out of reach. My hand moves before I can stop it, cupping his face, pulling him toward me, and when our lips meet, it’s slow, unsure at first, like we’re both testing the waters.
The rain pours harder, but it’s like the world is melting awayaround us. I feel him respond, his lips soft against mine, warm despite the cold rain. He kisses me like he’s not sure, like he’s holding back, but then I pull him closer, desperate to feel more. My fingers tangle into his wet hair, tugging him deeper into the kiss.
It’s not desperate or frantic, but it’s everything I’ve wanted. Everything I’ve been afraid to ask for.
My heart hammers harder, the thudding filling my ears, and I think maybe I’ve forgotten how to breathe altogether.
His tongue brushes against mine, tentative at first, then pressing more insistent, coaxing, a soft slide and pull that makes my entire body tighten. A fire sparks in my chest, in my belly, flooding my veins.
His chest presses against mine, and I can feel his heat through the wet fabric of our clothes. Every movement of our bodies feels magnified. His breath against my face, the slick slide of his wet hair under my fingers, the subtle tremor in his hands as they rest on my waist. It’s as if the rain’s the only thing that’s keeping us apart, and I want nothing more than to drown in this, in him.
My fingers dig into his back, his wet skin against mine sending shockwaves of heat that seem to spread all over, making my legs feel unsteady. He groans, almost a whisper against my lips, and that sound—God, that sound—sends a shiver straight through me. I feel it in my chest, my belly, a full-body reaction that makes me feel exposed and alive all at once.
Slowly, like he’s reluctant to let me go, Père pulls back, breaking the kiss, and I’m left breathless, my lips tingling. My heart pounds against my ribs. We’re both panting, our chests rising and falling together. I rest my forehead against his, myhand still holding his face, like I’m afraid that if I let go, this moment will slip away.
“Well,” I say, a little breathless. “That was... something.”
Père grins, his eyes sparkling with danger and warmth. “You have no idea,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over my lip like he’s memorizing the taste of me.
I can’t explain what I’m feeling. All I know is that everything is different now. The rain, our fear of our feelings, the world—it’s all still there, but it doesn’t matter. Not when we’re like this. Together.
