Page 30 of Crossroads
And then the next . . .
I can’t even think about it. The thought makes my entire body run hot and then cold. The sticky evidence of what happened in my jeans and underwear. I can still feel his fingers in my hair. His lips on mine.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
I’m not gay.
I’ve never been attracted to another guy in my life. Not once. I played all the sports in school. I’ve been in locker rooms around other naked guys most of my life, and never once did I feel anything even close to resembling lust or want.
But that’s exactly what I felt tonight when Emerson decided to challenge me for the millionth time.
Lust.
Want.
So much desire, I couldn’t think straight. I lost all control and just went with it. It’s not like me at all. I didn’t let myself think about it too hard. I just kissed him. His body under minefelt almost electric. This magnetic pull between us unable to be ignored anymore.
I’ve never felt that way before. Not even with Lucy. Everything with her was easy. Sweet. Kissing Emerson—that was not sweet. It was like this burning need I had no say over.
I quickly strip out of my jeans and underwear, debating throwing them away, but knowing I can’t waste like that. Instead, I kick them to the corner and turn on the hot water.
Well—warm at best, and it’s barely a trickle, but it’s fine. I climb under the weak spray and grab the bar of soap wrapped in cheap paper, then unwrap it before I scrub my body.
My muscles ache like they do after a workout or hours on the farm just from the one encounter with Emerson. When I wash my hair, I swear I can still feel the tingling of where he was holding onto me as I thrust against him.
My dick is still semi-hard, giving a little jolt when I think about that, and I quickly scold myself, rushing through the rest of the shower before I climb out, drying off with the threadbare motel towel and tug on a pair of joggers I brought to sleep in.
I grab my toothbrush and paste and scrub my teeth, trying to erase all taste of Emerson. The taste may be gone, replaced by minty fresh, but his touch is still everywhere.
I tuck my dirty clothes in my bag and then stand at the sink, putting my hands on the cool tile and stare into the mirror.
I had sex with a guy. Whether there was penetration or not—that’s exactly what it was.
I don’t know how to feel about it, but I know that I don’t want to go out there and see his smug smile, knowing he’s fucked with my head. But we have to get to the auction early tomorrow, and I can’t stand here forever.
I push open the door, finding Emerson on the bed, flicking through channels on the television absently. But he doesn’t look all that smug. He doesn’t really look pleased at all.
Which is not what I was expecting. Not at all.
He doesn’t make eye contact with me as I drop my bag by the door and make my way over to the bed. He tosses the remote on the bed and breezes past me to grab his own bag, quickly disappearing behind the bathroom door.
I hear the shower kick on a moment later, and I lie down on the bed, under the covers.
Is he embarrassed? Is he just as shocked as I am?
That’s hard to believe. He’s been pushing my buttons since day one. Always joking about me wanting to see him naked and shit. Surely, he’s reveling in the fact that this happened.
But when he gets out of the shower, he still won’t look at me. He flicks the lights off and turns off the television. He climbs under the covers but scoots over to the edge of the bed, and that’s fine by me.
I don’t need to talk about what happened. I roll to my side too, jerking more of the blanket out of his grasp because the selfish fucker has plenty.
If he wants to pretend like it never happened, that’s more than okay with me.
The next morningis pretty much a repeat of last night. We both get ready silently, not looking at each other or even acknowledging the other’s existence. We grab our shit and get in the truck.
I drive us to the auction, and we check in. This entire trip has been a mindfuck, that’s for sure, and I’m ready to get back home.
All I have to do is secure the steer John wants, and then we’ll be on our way. Of course, fate has a way of fucking with me because as we’re finding our seats, I see a familiar face.
