From the moment I saw him on his knees at my feet on that dock, I knew Gabriel was going to fuck with my carefully planned world. It’s been years since I let myself get distracted by a pretty face, or a nice ass, or god forbid a pretty face with a nice ass and the most addictive smile I’ve ever laid eyes on. Growing up on the island, there was never a shortage of… distractions. I wish I could say I didn’t take advantage of that fact and indulge more than my fair share. But let’s be honest, I was a horny teenager with very few hang-ups or preferences, so I had my fun and then some. Though four years in the military, straight out of high school, beat that outta me right quick. Some people rankle against the strict rule and order of the military. Me, a wild island child all but raised by the spirits of the island and the waves? I craved it, flourished under it. It made the man I am today.
And that man hasn’t let himself fall for a pretty pair of eyes in… Jesus fuck, it’s been too long. If Delano and Teo, my roommates, found out it’s been damn near a year since I got any real action, I don’t even want to think about the Tinder and Grindr parade they would drag through the house to knock me out of it. The sad part is, I don’t even have a good reason for having gone this long. It’s not like I’ve been intentionally single or avoiding hookups. I go out with the guys damn near every weekend and have a good time. It’s just that no one has caught my eye enough to make me want to take the chance or put in the effort for a night of meaningless sex.
Don’t get me wrong, sex is fucking fantastic, but at twenty-nine, I’m kind of over either waking up alone or not knowing (or caring) the name of the person sneaking out of my bed at dawn. Is looking for a connection, a spark, really all that wrong? I didn’t think so, but after the last year of looking and not feeling anything even as “electric” as licking a battery… I’ve started to question things.
Then that crazy little twink fell at my feet on the dock, and I swear, when he looked up at me through those dark lashes of his, lightning struck.
I’ve never had a preference in my partners really… man, woman, older, younger (within reason), tall, short, curvy, slender, or any color of the rainbow. If I vibed with someone, that was all that mattered. I’ve never had an answer when someone would ask me what my “type” was in the past. Well, after seeing Gabriel on his knees, looking up at me with that shocked and dazed expression… that. That is my type.
His creamy white skin damn near glowed under the afternoon sun. The only thing breaking up the smooth expanse was a smattering of freckles along his nose and shoulders. His dark lashes fanned over ice-blue eyes so bright I swear they were contacts.
Looking at him, he doesn’t fit into any of the classic categories gay men always seem to get shoved into. Kneeling as he was, I couldn’t tell how tall he was, but I assumed he was shorter than my six-three frame… Everyone is shorter than I am. Well, everyone other than Siggy, but we don’t count the Viking. Regardless of height, Gabriel had one of those frames that no matter how muscled his shoulders and arms may be, he still looked small and compact, like I could toss him around in the bedroom in all the best ways, and he would take it and ask for more.
The thing that really got me, though, was his hair. His shock of silver-white hair captivated and confused me. Looking at his face and eventually hearing him talk, there is no way he is old enough to have gone gray. Still, his stylishly cut hair was undoubtedly silver. I wanted to run my hands through it, tangle my fingers in it while he was on his knees like that, and guide him along my cock. It was even more stunning during the dive. Gabriel and his shining silver hair, a beacon glowing across the reef, begging me to come out and play.
Clearly, I was drugged, or there was some crazy island juju going on because no one, and I mean no one, has ever knocked me this off-kilter before. I called him a fucking “shining beacon,” for Christ’s sake… if the guys ever heard that shit, I’d never hear the end of it. Yet somehow, it feels right; it feels… like Gabriel.
I’ve never seen anyone run away so quickly after coming in from a dive as he did yesterday. I could have sworn he had a great time; I’d bet my boat on it, yet he tore down the dock like the hounds of hell were on his heels as soon as I tied the boat off. If I were a betting man, I would have put money on the fact I would never see that little silver shark again. Since none of the usual names fit him, I decided about halfway through the dive to give him my own. As much as he might have been scared shitless to start the dive, he took to it naturally and moved through the water with a sleek grace that I’ve rarely seen, even with experienced divers. His smooth movements through the water, shining silver hair, and the fact that I didn’t see a damn hair on him other than that shock of silver on top solidified him as a shark in my mind. A shark I absolutely wouldn’t mind letting take a bite out of me.
So, you can imagine my surprise when he was, lounging by the pool with his loud-mouthed, hilarious spitfire of a friend while the guys and I worked earlier today. We’ve been working on and off at the resort for a few months now, understanding that the five of us will do whatever random grunt work is needed in exchange for using their pool for dive training and concierges recommending our tours. We get free meals while working and free drinks when we’re done, so it’s not like we mind having to build a few Bali Beds on the new pool deck.
When I saw Gabriel this morning, or let’s be honest, when his friend Dee started yelling at us to “drop it like it’s hot” for them, I was more than a little shocked to see him. Thank god for loud, drunk friends because if it weren’t for Dee, I don’t think I would have recovered from my shock in time to get the date she all but shoved us into. Not that I am complaining one bit.
It may be pathetic of me, a sign it’s been entirely too long since I got laid, or that I am still the same horn dog I was ten years ago. Still, I can’t deny the momentary twinge of sadness in my gut when I pulled up to the resort this evening and saw Gabriel standing there fully clothed. Until that moment, I had only ever seen him in… what do you even call those things? The male equivalent of booty shorts? I don’t even know, but both times I’ve seen him, he was in those tiny skin-tight swim shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Seeing him fully clothed almost seems a shame after all that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t look great tonight, though.
My initial assessment of him was correct. He’s a nerdy type judging by the slim-cut jeans, red chucks, and a t-shirt with chibi Deadpool riding a unicorn on it. Once again, I have discovered my type… Gabriel wearing ridiculous nerdy shit.
I just think Gabriel is my type.
If Gabriel is my type, then my kink is surprising him and getting him to make that little squeaking noise he does when he’s not expecting something. I’ve gotten it a few times tonight and spent more time than I would like to admit trying to get it again. Bringing him out on my boat was the right choice, thankfully. I was a little nervous after how our dive started out; he was so nervous I swear he was vibrating until I got him to jump in the water, but judging by the delighted little squeak and shimmy move he did in his seat when I pulled the car up to the marina, the boat wasn’t the issue yesterday. When Gabriel realized my plan was for a sunset cruise and dinner on the boat, you would think I told him Christmas had come early.
“I still can’t get over this boat! And it’s seriously yours?” Gabriel asks, popping another grape into his mouth. The last of our dinner is packed away, and he’s lounging on the large cushioned bench that stretches along the center of the deck between my post at the wheel and the entrance to the small cabin in the bow.
“She was my dad’s. I grew up taking her out with him every chance we got. He kept her in storage while I was in the military, and I could finally afford to bring her back out and get her seaworthy again in the last few years. Now I try to get out at least once a week when I can.”
“God, If I had a boat like this… and faith I wouldn’t knock myself overboard and drown in the first thirty seconds, I would be out every single day.” The dreamy look in Gabriel’s eyes makes the entire trip out here worth it. He lays back against the cushions, tucking his folded arms beneath his head. Letting him relax a while longer, I busy myself with lowering the sails and dropping the anchor for the night. Or at least, I hope it’s for the night.