Page 25 of Waiting for a Prince
“Provided I get enough work done this weekend? Sure.” Sam raised his glass. “To a great night out, and more great times to come.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
In the space of two weeks, Mark’s life had changed.
I have a new friend.
He did his best to forget his initial lustful thoughts. Going after straight guys never worked out. He’d had his fill of curious guys who loved getting their dicks sucked, but who’d run a mile at the thought of dipping their wick in anything but a willing mouth.
The guy who’d taken Mark’s cherry had been the exception, but he’d still protested he wasn’t gay.
Besides, what was better—making Sam uncomfortable if, God forbid, he ever learned what Mark had fantasized about that day on the beach, or having Sam as a friend?
A strictly platonic friend.
Mark wasn’t about to do anything to jeopardize that friendship.
Monday, August 12, 2024
Sam sat in his car in the Yaverland carpark, listening to the radio and watching for Mark. He should have been relaxed. He’d worked from early morning until late at night for the past two days, determined not to feel guilty about taking a day off.
Except his tight chest and clenched stomach had nothing to do with his work, and everything to do with the fact he’d ignored Rebecca’s texts and calls.
And you know there’ll be a price to pay.
Yeah, he knew.
A tap on the window made him jump. Mark peered in at him.
Sam took a deep breath. Whatever was coming at him, it wouldn’t happen until he got home, or later than that if she took it into her head to torture him.
He got out of the car, reaching over to grab his backpack from the passenger seat.
“You were miles away.” Mark frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about work, that’s all.” He locked the car. “Nothing a day on the beach can’t cure.”
Mark smiled. “Exactly.”
They walked to the far end of the carpark, across the boat ramp, and down the wooden steps onto the beach. There were already lots of people, mostly families, and most of them clustered around that end of the beach.
Mark pointed toward the white cliffs. “Less crowded other there.”
Sam chuckled. “Less clothing too.”
“Hey, it’s up to you.” Mark held his hands up. “If you want to find a quiet spot, then that’s what we’ll do.” He grinned. “But I promise you… once you go nude, you won’t wanna go back.”
“That good, huh?”
Mark’s eyes glittered. “You’ll have to find that out for yourself.”
Sam hated feeling so torn. He wanted to cast off his inhibitions—and his clothing—but he’d never been naked with someone before.
What does that say about me? I’m twenty-three, for God’s sake.
Then maybe it was time to step out of his comfort zone.
They walked along the shore, and Sam removed his flip-flops and stuffed them in a side pocket. Feeling the damp sand between his toes was bliss. The waves washed over his feet, cold at first, but warmer once he’d grown accustomed to it. He noted Mark had done the same thing. High above them, birds circled, their wings spread. The sun felt glorious on his face, bare arms, and legs.
