Page 15 of Two Wrong Turns

“Then we talk about what that means for us both. I won’t push you before I know you’re ready.”

“You’re not like most men. I don’t know what to make of it.”

I didn’t think he meant to say that out loud. Still, I’m glad he had. I loved hearing that I was different compared to the men he’d been around.

If only he knew the truth. It wasn’t because I was some upstanding man or had different morals.

It was because deep down, I was a bear.

Talk about a plot twist.

Chapter 7

Barrett

The next threedays passed in much the same way. Nolan went to work while I painted on the back deck. I would get caught up in my work, forgetting the world around me entirely, until he arrived home. Then he’d tell me how amazing that day’s piece was before dropping to his knees to feast on my cock.

While most men would love to have this level of consistency, I was starting to get worried. There were a few reasons for my confusion.

The first was that he’d said he wanted to talk, yet we never did. Both of us had been so exhausted after eating, we barely had enough energy to move my canvas inside before passing out on the couch. We woke up the next morning and he didn't mention a word of it.

The next concern I had was about his self-esteem. I figured that was the only reason he hadn’t let me see him completely. I’d been splayed out bare for the man for days, yet the only glimpse of skin I got was when he walked around shirtless or in shorts.

I wanted to see more of him, dammit.

So while working on today’s painting, I went in a different direction. It was a scene meant to entice him to think outside of the boxes he’d put us in.

The couple in my painting were deep in the throes of lovemaking. It was very obviously two men from their build and facial hair. They also might have happened to look eerily a bit like us, though I did blur a bit of the features to give the piece a dreamlike quality.

I took my time with the work, creating something far more erotic than I expected to. And unlike the other days when I heard Nolan come onto the porch, I didn’t realize he was home until his arms wrapped around me from behind.

“Baby,” he whispered, voice soft and reverent. “This is amazing.”

I turned to look up at him, my cheeks hurting from how wide my smile had become. It faltered a bit when I saw tears brimming in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Do you hate it? I’m sorry if it’s too forward.”

Nolan placed a finger on my lips, silencing my pleas. “There is nothing wrong with this painting. I’m overcome with a lot of emotion. I didn’t expect this. That doesn’t mean I don't want it.”

I bit my lip, then turned to fully face him. He immediately wrapped his arms around me.

“You want it?”

His eyes sparkled at my question. “I do. But we do need to have that talk. I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding it. It’s not something I thought I’d ever have to do.”

I frowned at his words. He was talking like there was some big secret he had to reveal before we could fuck. That never made a guy feel confident about potential hook ups.

Though hook up didn’t feel like the right term for what we were doing. But it also felt too heavy to suggest it was something more.

Nolan turned us to the house. We left my supplies behind as we made our way to the living room. He sat down, then pulled me to the couch beside him.

He held my hand, his eyes focused on the connection. Whatever it was he wanted to say must have been difficult.

I went through all the possible scenarios I could to see how I’d feel if they were what he wanted to talk about.

He had an STD. Ok, so we’d work through it together.

He was a virgin. Again, together we’d figure out the mechanics to keep us both happy.

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