“Straight down this highway?”
“Yep, just keep going. We got about a twenty minute drive.” Tristan angled his body to keep watch over Dylan. The ocean view was nice, but the driver was so much more impressive. He’d just keep his eyes right there.
“Turn right up here,” Tristan directed. Dusk came on strong, painting the ocean’s backdrop with a beautiful hue of colors. Dylan slowed and turned off the highway onto a small unpaved road.
“Just pull up as far as you can. It’s not designed for cars like this,” Tristan said, pointing Dylan over to the left. He carefully pulled the car in that direction, stopping after hitting a good rut.
“Sorry,” he glanced over at Tristan.
“Unavoidable. We’ll have to walk down there a bit. It looks like no one’s here. It’s still a little cold. I brought you a jacket,” Tristan said, getting out of the car and pulling a small cooler from the inside along with a blanket and two jackets. Dylan walked around to meet him, taking some of the load. He’d been reasonably comfortable, yet, now that the car wasn’t between them, his nerves grew much like his attraction had with every mile driven.
Tristan was easy to be around—accommodating and accepting, even polite. That was not the way he had expected the founder and global phenom of the world’s first true search engine to be. Definitely not the one he’d read about conducting the business of Wilder, Inc. If Dylan thought about it, most of the industry thought of Tristan as a jerk, a ruthless dick, but Dylan hadn’t seen any sign of that at all. Actually, that was more Landry than Tristan in Dylan’s opinion.
“Lead the way.” He followed as Tristan maneuvered down the small trail on the side of the cliff. It was getting darker outside, but he could still see the beauty surrounding him. The landscape was nothing like Texas. In California, the jagged, rocky cliffs dropped off into churning water. The sound of waves crashing against the rocky outcroppings in the distance somehow made this a perfect spot, almost surreal. The salty smell of the ocean drifted on a chilly breeze. He pulled the jacket tighter against his body and fought off a shiver.
“Julian’s supposed to meet us at my place at eight thirty. That gives us about an hour and a half here,” Tristan said, snaking around the brush and sandy rocks until they came to a small clearing right underneath the car. He laid out the blanket and put the cooler down, opening the lid. Tristan handed him a Heineken. “You drink beer, right?”
“Yeah,” he answered. There was really nothing he didn’t drink. He’d vowed to let last night be the only night he fell off the proverbial wagon, but with the possibility of a threesome looming in his near future, he twisted off the cap and took a long drink. “You should drive home.”
“No problem. I figured you’d need some liquid courage.” Tristan chuckled, dropping down to the blanket and toeing off his tennis shoes. He rolled up his pants legs and looked up at Dylan. “It’s cold this time of year, but you can’t come here and not put your feet in the water.”
Dylan sat, draining the bottle while Tristan laughed at him. “I told you, you call the shots tonight. As far as you want to go. You don’t need to be so worried.”
“I’m just really not ready to…you know,” he said quietly, taking off his Sperrys. He tucked his socks inside and rolled up his pants legs. Tristan was already standing, waiting on him.
“No one’s gonna push you. I promise. It’s hot though—feels incredible. If you do it like you did last night, it’s more pleasurable than you can imagine. You were perfect,” Tristan said, extending a hand to help him up.
“I see myself as more of a top.” Dylan liked to control his world. He liked to be the one doing the work, moving things forward. He just saw himself as a top in all things.
“I did too, and I usually take the lead, but honestly, now I like sex both ways, all ways really.” Tristan winked as Dylan got to his feet. He reached out to link their hands together, holding on tight when Dylan tried to pull away. “Moonlight walks on the beach need to be done holding hands. It’s a law here in California.”
“You keep pushing at me, don’t you?” Dylan asked. He didn’t let go of Tristan’s tight grip, but he didn’t walk forward either. Tristan tugged at his arm.
“I’m not pushing. I’m just showing you what you’re missing and what’s waiting for you when you come out,” Tristan said, finally using enough force to get him moving.
“I don’t know if I can ever really come out,” Dylan admitted.
“Sure, you will. It’s too lonely a life otherwise,” Tristan replied, walking them to the water. “Besides, someone like you is gonna be picked up real quick.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Dylan said, laughing at the absurdity of that thought.
“I am. You’re hot, easy to be around, and about to be loaded.” Tristan waggled his eyebrows until they hit the edge of the surf. “Shit, the water’s cold.”
“You said that before.” Dylan shivered as the cold water washed over his feet.
“Too bad it’s not summer, we could play in the ocean,” Tristan said, kicking his feet around, probably trying to build some warmth. Dylan just stayed at the edge of the water. Tristan never released his hand.
“You surf?” Dylan asked. Tristan looked up and must have noticed Dylan wasn’t in the water with him, because he tugged him in a step. “We could just walk on the sand and say we did this.”
“Sometimes, just a little bit. I can manage to stay up most of the time,” Tristan said, ignoring the walk-in-the-sand suggestion. He seemed determined they were doing this. The more they walked, the more the chill of the water subsided.
“I go to the competitions though. Those are badass. You’ll have to come with me sometime.” He hadn’t let go of Dylan’s hand and walked them a little farther in, letting the water cover their ankles.