Page 61 of Double Dared
I knew I could. I just didn’t know the words for it. “I love this,” I said honestly. “It’s out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure, but it feels good. It feels good to step out of the everyday normal.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Harrison said.
I leaned in, letting the tip of my nose brush gently against the tip of his. “And I’m just trying to figure out where it all comes from, embarrassment or whatever it is.”
“We’re taught to be prim and proper, to be polite, to keep it all down, right? You can’t use a toilet without asking for permission. You can’t kiss boys without first making a big announcement. You should always be quiet, be still, listen, not upset anyone, ever, under any circumstance. I say, to hell with it. My favorite artworks upset people the most. I want to feel things, even if they’re bad. I want to know what it’s like.” The feverish look in his eyes, the passion, the humanity of him swept me away.
“Me too,” I said.
His hands moved to my ass, cupping it gently. “So, sit. Feel the leather. Let your scent remain on it. Be a little uncomfortable because it’s worth it.”
“Yes,” I said, filled with the same yearning that I saw in Harrison.
“I want the traces of you everywhere,” he said. “Iwant to come here someday and be haunted by you in every corner.”
I laughed. “Oh, I’ll haunt you, I promise.”
“I know you will.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose, so gentle and sweet. Then he stepped back from me and finished making our espressos.
At his suggestion, we had coffee on the deck facing east. It was only a little chilly at first, but the sunlight kissed the skin on our outstretched legs, and the morning air brought my mind to a level of clarity I had rarely experienced in recent years.
For this one day and one more night, life slowed down and broke into its most basic, most fundamental things. Everything was simpler now. We ate when we were hungry, then we basked in the sunshine on the deck again, and then Harrison threw his leg over me, climbed me, and rode me senseless until I was out of breath and coming inside him. Then he led me to the hot tub, which had been heating up since last night, apparently, and we simply enjoyed the bubbles and the heat.
That night, Harrison showed me Kubrick’sBarry Lyndon. He half lay on the long sofa facing the canvas screen, and I sprawled across him, hugging his torso and resting my head on his chest. His heart thumped steadily against my ear while we watched. Occasionally, Harrison’s voice would rise softly, and I could feel it vibrating in his chest as he spoke. He told me about the cinematography that was now considered legendary, about lighting the scenes with nothingbut candles to capture the authentic look of the period, and to create the images that looked like paintings.
“They used state-of-the-art lenses to capture enough light to make any of the footage usable,” Harrison said. “The lenses at the time were not so sensitive to light, so they had to get creative.”
“I never would have guessed,” I said. “It looks…perfect. Just perfect.”
And later, after the movie was finished, I crawled higher to kiss him. Our lazy kisses turned into more, then more again, until we were a mess of sweat and exhausted limbs, a heap of hyperventilating bodies and happy souls.
Even then, Harrison wouldn’t let go of me. He turned us around, laying me on my back and kissing and licking my chest, then kissing me with lips that were salty with my sweat and cum.
And I finally relaxed with him. At this point, there was nothing more I could worry about. There was nothing lingering in the corners of my consciousness.
Now, we were equals. And we were as close as two souls could be. In the span of three days, we had gone from near strangers who had a strong sense of one another to a complete whole made of even halves.
We had kissed one another. We had fucked each other. We had scratched and slapped and choked and tormented each other in the sweetest, hottest ways, then soothed the frustrations with filthy kisses and passionate caresses. And we had let ourselves bearound one another in our most natural forms, sweaty, flesh on flesh, tongue against tongue.
There were no secrets between us.
Another night in his bed, another symphony of pleasures I’d never thought could exist, and another dawn in his arms, followed by more of the same. We stayed in his house late and showered together finally in the afternoon, then dressed for our return home.
Harrison had made it clear, this thing he was trying to prove. I felt good with him, though I hadn’t doubted it. I felt new and relieved. At the risk of sounding trite, I felt reborn.
Before loading our things into the car, Harrison suggested we take a walk in the forest. So we did, holding hands just because, and I decided that I would have followed him over the edge of the world if only he dared me to go with him.
We reached a clearing facing west, and Harrison sat us down to watch the sunset. My head rested on his shoulder as the sun turned orange and dipped behind the horizon, clouds and sky switching through the flaming colors until pink and deep purple finally took over and cooled down the heavenly fires.
“Thank you,” I said, overwhelmed with the need to let him know what it all meant to me. “This was such a unique thing, Harrison.”
“Just a house in the woods,” he said, but there was amusement in his voice. He knew what I was trying to say.
“It’s you,” I clarified. “Us.Here. Like this.”
“I told you the other day that you’ve enchanted me, and I don’t really know what else to do,” he said.
I shrugged. “No need to know.”
