Let's go.

Part 10: Worth the Wait

"San Francisco fits you," I say quietly to Layne as we are sitting on my front porch swing. The fog is beginning to roll in again, choking the sun and creating a mystical allure. The fresh smell of the blue gum eucalyptus thickens as the fog's cold droplets secure its scent around us.

Layne's arm is draped lazily across the back of the swing while his long fingers twirl a piece of my hair. He is wearing a dark flannel shirt with a thermal underneath. His feet are in a pair of worn black work boots and are planted firmly on the porch's wood slats while he rocks us on the swing. His long legs are clad in jeans that have softened from wear and I can see his thigh flex slightly through the material as he motions us back and forth on the swing. I am leaning against him, with my feet tucked under me and my head on his shoulder. The soft knit hat he bought on the Haight after lunch today is pulled down over his ears and resting snuggly across his dark, prominent brows. Its soft material brushes against my forehead as the swing rhythmically rocks back and forth.

Layne drove into the city with me this morning, then we had lunch together and walked through the hilled streets to Golden Gate Park. And it's true. San Francisco fits him. He has an innate sense of direction here as if he had lived here before. And this quirky town's mysterious, old-world atmosphere fits his mystical, sensitive soul.

A warm rumble emits from his chest in response to my comment.

"Is that so?" He says and pulls me closer to him. My knees are now resting on his lap and my breast is pressed against his side. I wrap my arm around his stomach and look up into his eyes. He turns his face to mine and his lips twitch up at the corners.

"Yeah," I reply slightly breathless from being so close to him. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek and his blue eyes are turning grey as the light is overcome by the fog.

I could tell him that he fits here because I am here. But instead, I lean forward toward him, watching his eyes dilate as my lips lower toward his. I feel his arm tighten around my shoulders pulling me into him as my lips lightly brush against his warm, soft mouth. A deep moan escapes him when I lightly nip his upper lip. I place my hand on his cheek and lean into him to deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth. My stomach tightens as my tongue finds his.

My heart beats loudly and feels like a rhythmic drum pulsating in my ears, and I am breathless as his hand moves to the back of my neck while his tongue begins to explore my mouth. I slowly drag my thumb across his prominent cheekbone then lean farther onto him so I can touch his neck and thick hair. He chuckles as I fist my hand in his hair and entangle my tongue with his.

The sound of a car pulling up to my front driveway forces us to break off the moment.

"Are you expecting someone?" Layne asks but I don't answer him, I am too mesmerized by his movements as he adjusts himself to hide his erection. I have never seen Layne naked but I have felt his erection a few times and I am dying to see and feel all of him.

"Stop looking at me like that," He whispers thickly and I realize I am biting my lower lip and ogling him. I wiggle my eyebrows at him and he chuckles.

He leans towards me and says, "You know, I am starting to think the universe will never let me fuck you."

I give him a quick peck on the lips, and say, "Yes, it will." I hastily unfold myself off the swing to greet my brother as he exits his car.

"It better," I hear him grumble under his breath then he rises from the swing to stand next to me at the top of my porch stairs.

My brother exits his car and waves over to us before opening his back door and pulling out a case of beer.