Page 70 of What I've Tasted of Desire

I pulled back, grabbed a screwdriver, and knelt down to the floor. I jammed the head of the screwdriver down between the floorboards at the foot of the bed and pulled one of them up. I set it aside and reached down into the gap and pulled out the bags of cash and began filling what room was left in the top of the duffel bag.

Alex’s eyes went wide as he watched me, “Holy shit!”

“I don’t like banks,” I shrugged.

“Where did all that c-come from?”

“I’ve been saving it for a rainy day,” I told him with a smile as I zipped the bag closed. “Ready?”

Alex grabbed his backpack off the bed and followed me out of the room. I pulled his coat off the hook by the front door and handed it to him. “You sure you wanna do this?”

Alex buttoned his coat and looked over at me. “Yes.”

I’d never heard him sound so sure of anything, actually.

It was still well before daybreak when I opened the garage door and backed out into the street. All was quiet, save a small sniffle from Alex.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have started the car and let it warm up for a few minutes before we left.” I reached over and turned on his seat warmer, closing the vents on my side to push more of the warm air on him as I headed towards the highway. I had ¾ of a tank of gas, and wouldn’t need to stop anytime soon. The faster I could get us out of town, the better.

“Do you need a drink or anything, babe?” I asked him as I turned towards the interstate. Alex didn’t verbally respond, he just shook his head as he continued to stare out his window, his body slightly turned to the side. Ten minutes later, and he had fallen back asleep, his forehead resting softly against the cool glass.

I changed into the middle lane and set the cruise control. I adjusted my seat a bit and rested my hand gently on Alex’s knee, getting as comfortable as I could for the over four-hour drive that was the last thing separating us from our happy ending.

Chapter Twenty-Four

3 Months Later

I walked into the cabin and immediately over to the kitchen sink to wash my hands. I grabbed a towel and dried them off before running the damp cloth over my face and pushing my sweat-slick hair off my forehead. It had gotten significantly warmer in the past few weeks. I didn’t need to chop nearly as much wood as I had been doing; for which my arms were eternally grateful.

As brutal and exhausting as Jason’s training sessions were in the gym, they hadnothingon the off-grid lifestyle Alex and I were living. Between hunting deer and wild boar, cleaning and butchering our own meat, chopping wood several times a week, pumping water from the well, and tossing Alex around, I was in better shape than ever. I was bigger and so much stronger.

Jason had done an incredible job getting my body to a state thatlookedgood, no doubt. But now I had incrediblefunctionalmuscles. I’d gained at least fifteen pounds since we’d moved to the cabin. Alex just went feral over my thicker form. I’d let my beard grow out as well, per his request. I was more than willing to fulfill every filthy mountain-man fantasy he had.

I may not have been the psychologist he needed to unpack his daddy issues and deal with the trauma of being an orphan, but at least I could fuck the boy to tears. I guessed that was just gonna have to be good enough.

I glanced at the analog clock on the wall. It was nearly seven. I was a little surprised Alex wasn’t awake yet. I walked across the house and slowly turned the knob on the door of the lone bedroom. As I suspected, Alex was still in bed. He was naked, the way we always slept, face-down on the mattress, and had tossed the comforter off himself as the warm rays of sunlight shone across his tan back through the window. He was lying on his stomach, one leg out straight, the other bent up at the knee, giving me a glorious view.

I tip-toed further into the room and picked up the Polaroid camera sitting on the dresser. I looked through the viewfinder and crouched down a bit, trying to capture the rays of light shining across his perfect ass. I pressed the button, and the mechanics of the machine engaged, spitting out an undeveloped print.

Alex groaned. “Stop taking pictures of me.” His voice was muffled from the pillow his face was buried in, and he still hadn’t moved. I couldn’t see if his eyes were open or not. He’d let his hair grow out, atmyrequest, so all I could see was a mess of chestnut curls splayed out across the pillow. His face was in there somewhere.

I chuckled. “Stop being so beautiful, and I’ll stop taking pictures of you.”

He sighed, but still hadn’t bothered to stir. I walked up to the foot of the bed and brought the lens of the camera down close to his ass. I reached my hand out and spread his cheeks, exposing his pink hole even more that it already was, and quickly snapped another picture.

He raised his head up off the pillow and laughed as he reached over and swatted my hand away with his.

“Such a pervert,” he giggled, flipping his head back to clear the curls from his eyes.

“Mhhm,” I replied, reaching down and hooking his leg before flipping him over on the mattress. He was hard—shocker—and I snapped another photo before he had time to cover himself with his hands.

“I don’t know why you take so many pictures of me, anyway,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We are always together, and you see my dick, like, five times a day. And that’s only on days when we decide to put clothes on at all!”

“So what? That doesn't mean I can’t appreciate your beauty in print as well. Besides, I like to jerk off to these,” I grinned, fanning the prints in my hand as they developed.

Alex laughed. “When was the last time you jerked off,” he asked. “...Without me,”he added for clarification.

I reached down and rolled his balls around gently in my hand like a fidget toy as we talked and he spread his legs a little wider.

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