“You okay?” Tristan asked, standing. The food seemingly forgotten.
“I don’t know how you do this to me.” Dylan tried to explain, and a grin spread across Tristan’s face.
“That’s something I’ve been asking myself since I laid eyes on you. Here, carry the basket. It’s getting late. At this point, Julian will be there before we arrive.” Dylan took the basket Tristan handed him, realizing he hadn’t gotten an answer. Tristan scooped up the blanket from the four sides, allowing all the contents to fall to the middle. Without another word, he trailed along behind Tristan, making his way back up the path. Tristan carried the blanket extended away from his body.
When they got to the parking area, Tristan walked to a trashcan and placed the entire blanket inside the big metal container. “I love my car too much. I don’t want that to spill. Terrible, huh?” Tristan asked, clicking the key fob. He carefully inspected the basket before allowing it inside. “Wanna drive?”
Dylan shook his head and started for the passenger side. Tristan reached out and stopped him, pulling him closer. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” he admitted. He was still more stuck on the fact he planned to do any of this to begin with. Tristan pulled him against his body, but he pushed back, stepping away. He held his hands in front of him, stopping Tristan from coming any closer. He’d just kissed and fucked Tristan’s fist, all in the open on a public beach. Anyone could have seen them. Tristan had the ability to destroy his boundaries.
“It’s not wrong. What we’re doing, I mean,” Tristan said, but he took a step back and then another, and something crossed his face that Dylan couldn’t read.
“What we do behind closed doors is one thing, but I shouldn’t have let that happen down there,” Dylan said. Tristan made his way to the driver’s side and opened the door, but didn’t get in. He just looked at him over the roof of the car.
“Funny. What I’ll remember about that moment is that I was so turned on by you I lost sight of everything just to touch you.” Tristan lowered himself into his seat behind the wheel and shut the door. Dylan was left standing there, speechless. Was that a line? Surely to god it was. He opened the door and got inside as Tristan started the car.
“How many times have you used that line before?” Dylan asked.
“Never. You’re gonna learn I say what I feel. I’m not the player you think I am. I haven’t had to be.” Tristan stared at him a moment, and he could see the hurt there…and maybe uncertainty. Tristan shifted the car to reverse and backed them out.
“I’m sorry. It’s all me, not you,” Dylan apologized, rubbing his sweaty palms along his thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Tristan stayed silent as he drove. It was dark, but Dylan thought he saw a small tic in his jaw.
“Really. I’m sorry,” he offered. “I just don’t understand what I’m doing. This isn’t me. I don’t do these things and then you look my way and I just lose it. It’s me, not you. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“Look, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. That’s a surprise to me too. At first you were the awkward closeted guy, but that’s all changed. I don’t know why, but I’m not playing you,” Tristan explained, sliding the gear shift into fifth. “I shouldn’t have jacked you off out on the beach. Yes, I crossed lines, but I’m crossing every line there is already—I’m trying to buy your company. A smart move would have been to leave you in that closet. I have a lot to lose by hooking up with you, whether you realize it or not.”
Dylan let that thought sit there between them. Tristan was right. He hadn’t considered Tristan’s side of this, and he scrubbed a hand down over his face. “I never considered the possibility I’d be going to work for you. This can’t go on past this weekend.”
“I haven’t asked for a long-term commitment¸” Tristan said, grinning at Dylan. Now, he felt silly. Tristan reached over and bumped his shoulder. “I’m not trying to make this any more than what it is. When you finally come out, I see a long line of men wanting some of this.” Tristan reached down and grabbed Dylan’s crotch.
“We’ll never speak of tonight again?” Dylan asked, ignoring Tristan’s hand on his groin.
“Of course not. That breaks the guy code,” Tristan replied and withdrew his hand. He was happy again, lighthearted. It seemed like that was Tristan’s preferred disposition.
“Good. I’m really nervous.”
“You should be, but it’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with threesomes as long as everyone knows the score.” Tristan winked at him. He’d always wanted to be more adventurous. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but things like this just never happened to him.
He picked at a hangnail on his thumb and couldn’t meet Tristan’s gaze, didn’t want him to see the insecurity hidden there.
“You’ll see.”
“Do I need a safe word?” That had just occurred to him. He needed to know the rules of the game. He was trying to prepare himself so he didn’t appear so naïve when the time arrived. He could play any game if he understood the rules.
“What? No! We aren’t tying you up and whipping you, unless you want that.” Tristan’s brow lifted as he tried to hide his chuckle.
“No, I don’t think I’m into that.” He actually definitely knew he wouldn’t be into that.
“I think the word no is sufficient for tonight.” Tristan smiled and took Dylan’s hand back in his, placing a simple kiss on his knuckles. “I want you to like this. Tonight’s all about pleasure, everyone’s pleasure.”
Tristan pulled the car into his driveway and opened the garage door about ten minutes later than they’d planned to arrive. There was a jaguar parked in the driveway, where a figure leaned against the car, arms and ankles crossed. When the headlights flashed across him, the tall, athletically built man looked up, tapping his watch, and all Dylan could think was the man was beautiful. The insecurity building inside grew by leaps and bounds.