Page 20 of Worthy

“What limits?”

“All of them,” he chuckles, the corner of his lip pulling up like he’s reliving some adventure. “How fast you can go downhill… What’s the biggest cliff you can jump off… What’s the craziest trick you can throw...”

“Everyone does this?” My brows shoot sky high. He nods. “Is there something in the water I should be aware of? I don’t want to be brainwashed into thinking I can do any of what you just said.”

I may look athletic, and I know the surfing and the hiking I do counts, but in my mind both are pretty low impact. Nothing like what he’s describing.

“No brainwashing. It just comes naturally the longer you stay here.” He says it so matter-of-factly I think he believes it.

“I don’t get it.” I sink back into the cushions.

“This is the ultimate backyard.” He waves his hand, I assume to encompass the land around us. “Name an activity and you can find it here. Live here and you get better and better at those activities because you can enjoy them all the time, so much so you start looking for even more challenging things to do. More ways to push your limits.”

I’m fascinated by this…by him.Terrified, but fascinated. The only boundaries I’ve ever tested are mental, pushing myself to understand the complexities of the environment, the science that gives the planet life, and how we might benefit from that without damaging things in the process. Even with surfing, there’s a mental component to choosing your wave that appeals to me. Here it sounds like people test their physical limits, to the breaking point, if I understand correctly. On the one hand, I get it, pushing your limits helps you grow. On the other, what he does sounds extreme.

“Let me get this straight, you deliberately try to do things you know might lead to permanent damage, just to see if you can do them? And most everyone in this town lives the same way?”

“Yep.” He smiles proudly.

“So, if I want to stay in one piece I shouldn’t stay here too long?” I mean that to be a joke, but his smile fades as if I’ve hit a sore spot.

“You said it, Solo.” He exhales deeply.

Chapter six

Cade

Damn, he’s got me all mixed up.

Maddox is a beautiful man, and yeah, I want him, the same as I’ve always wanted beautiful people. But no other person has given me a reason to wonder if there’s more to life, more tome, than just having a good time. That’s why I felt compelled to stop and check on him when I saw his car sitting all alone by the trailhead. I thought doing that would make me a good guy.

Thank God he brings out that urge in me, or he might still be out there trying to make his way back. Although, the relief I felt after finding him was short lived, since carrying him down the trail was pure torture.

Having his body pressed against mine felt right in all the wrong ways. He was injured, hurting, and I was trying not to get a hard on.

He thinks I was grunting because he’s heavy? I was grunting because I liked the feel of his legs wrapped around me, his groin brushing against my back with each step. He liked it too. The way his thighs flexed with the effort of trying to hold his body away from mine gave that away, which only made it harder to keep my own reaction at bay.So, that grunt had nothing to do with his weight, and everything to do with lust.

He has no idea of the effect he has on me. How could he, when I don’t understand it myself? There’s just something about those dark, intense eyes and those plump, pink lips I can’t get enough of. I see them even when he’s not around, and when he is, I find it hard to leave. Prolonging my time with him won’t do either of us any good, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to. Doesn’t stop me from wondering what it’d be like to be with him.

A man.

Would it be rough and urgent, or gentle and sweet, seeing as how a certain amount of prep has to be part of the equation? And would he like to be touched the same way I do, or would he have different preferences? What would his stubble feel like against my cheek? The hair on his legs. Would he be tighter than a woman? What’s it like to be filled while having your cock stroked? Are the orgasms the same, or better?

Fuck, these questions are getting me riled.

I should get out of here. Put some distance between us since my feelings are so jumbled. But what kind of asshole leaves an injured guy alone. Though it’s only an ankle sprain, he still shouldn’t be putting weight on it. That means either someone has to be around to help, or he needs crutches.

I have crutches at my place. They’re handy to keep around, because in this town someone always needs a pair. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave him to go get them. I should, but I won’t, because with the crutches there’s no reason for me to stay. And I want to.

Sooner or later, when I don’t have an excuse to help out, or the summer ends, he’ll be out of reach. When that happens, I’ll have to let him go. So, I’ll worry about the crutches tomorrow, because tonightI’m going to take what I can get. What can I say? I’m a selfish bastard. A selfish bastard sitting so close to where his ankle is propped on the couch, his toes are nearly touching my forearm. Long toes, that are masculine looking even though they’re a little puffy.

“You hungry?” I jump off the couch. “You probably need to eat something, right?”

“Probably.” He sighs. “You must be hungry too. There should be a frozen pizza in there,” he calls after me as I make my way to the kitchen.

I find the pizza and preheat the oven, but instead of going back to the other room I find myself poking around the kitchen, looking for something else to do.

I’m an asshole. I’m being totally selfish. Madd’s the type of person who’s proud of his independence, and I’m forcing him to rely on me. I’m taking pleasure in it. I like how he needed my help to get off the trail, and how he needed me to bandage him up and needs me now to cook him dinner. I like that he’ll need my help to move around, at least for tonight. And I really like how those gorgeous gray eyes are looking at me with respect and appreciation.

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