Page 40 of His Stepdad Wears Leather

Brody ambled into the bathroom to brush his hair and teeth. Chris followed a moment later and he hung his towel beside Brody’s. After a heated glance in the mirror, Chris left the bathroom. Brody stood there, his focus on the two towels hanging side by side. Another sign of his temporary lost bachelorhood. He’d been incapable of being with anyone for quite a while. In time, being alone was normal.

For the first time in forever, alone felt crushing.

He left that thought in the bathroom, walking away from the past that was haunting him. After returning to the bedroom, he watched as Chris pulled some rumpled clothing from his backpack. He sniffed them and shook his head.

“You wouldn’t have a washer around, would ya?” Chris asked.

“I would,” Brody said. “Want to start a load before we go out?”

“Maybe when we get back, if that’s okay?”

Brody nodded, hating that all the guy had fit in one duffel. “Yeah… no problem.”

A short while later, they ambled down the stairs and got into Brody’s silver F-350 XLT. After he helped Chris into the truck and put his boy’s seatbelt on, he stole a kiss.

“I can buckle myself, you know?”

“I’m sure you can. But I’m your daddy, remember? I need to confirm my boy is safe and secure.”

Chris blushed, and a spark went straight to Brody’s cock. Before he ended up dragging his new lover back upstairs, he rounded the front and slid behind the wheel. He revved up the engine and pulled on his own seatbelt. In no time, they were out on the main road, heading for town. The old country road was familiar, and he drove a little too fast. He saw Chris reaching out to brace himself a couple of times and chuckled inwardly. Taking his foot off the gas a bit, he proceeded forward toward breakfast.

“Better?”

“Hmm?” Chris asked.

“Does my driving scare you?”

“No,” Chris answered, but Brody wasn’t convinced.

“Liar.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Chris’ head swivel before he spat. “I’mnotlying.”

Brody frowned. “I was only joking with you.”

Chris was silent beside him… and he could feel the guy tensing.

He cast a quick glance before pulling his stare back to the road. Chris gazed out the window, clearly bothered. “What did I say wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chris muttered. “I—”

“What?”

Chris remained silent. Long enough to cause Brody to worry.

“I—” Chris’ head turned toward him. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

Brody’s frown grew deeper. He sensed there was something more Chris had wanted to tell him but hadn’t. A desire to unravel Chris’ secret ate at him, but he knew the guy was recently out of a bad relationship. He needed time to trust Brody. Pushing now might not be the best choice. “It’s okay. We’re still getting to know one another. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t,” Chris said. He reached over and caressed Brody’s arm. “Ireallyenjoy spending time with you. I don’t want you to believe otherwise.”

Brody stroked the back of Chris’ hand. “I’ve enjoyed you, too.”

Silence fell again, but this time without the hint of whatever was bothering Chris.

In the remnants of their timeworn downtown stood the old silver diner, a bright spot in an otherwise depressing area. Most of the stores were closing or already closed. Newspapers covered old plate glass windows marred with graffiti. A few lone sentries remained—the old feed store, a barber, and the post office. The rest had been the victims of progress and the new malls and shopping centers out on the interstate.

His club had been the same—an old feed mill that had once housed the feed store and its feed production. They’d been forced to downsize many years ago as the rural community slowly switched to a suburban one. The mill had sat empty for nearly a decade before Brody and his former partner had purchased it. They’d had big plans for the location—not only a club, but a full-scale restaurant and bar on the other side. When his partner had left, he’d focused on the one half of the business nearest completion. The club. It did well enough but took a lot of his time and attention. More simply wasn’t in the cards.

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