Page 27 of Plentywood
I sat across him, and rested my chin in my hands, staring at a man I’d had my heart set on. He was rough around the edges, the type that turned my crank, and I’d been far too busy to examine what we were, but I had assumed we were something more than weekly hook-ups.
“I love you, Rocco,” I whispered. “I can take care of us in California.”
He clicked the TV off and slouched back against the distressed leather couch, gazing at me. “I ain’t gay. And I can sure as fuck take care of myself. I make a hundred and fifty a year, baby.”
“You are gay,” I disagreed. “You have to be after all this,” I added, waving around the room. “Your stuff is everywhere. We live like a couple.”
I come over two nights a week, Tinkerbell. That’s it. I ain’t livin’ here.”
I felt tears building in my eyes, breaking down the ice wall I’d developed around my heart. Rocca was my idea in the beginning. A huge, hulking, stud of a man who smiled at me in an alley three years before. I blew him in his truck the next week, and every week after, until I invited him over to my loft.
“You’re saying we have nothing? Wearenothing?” I asked, almost pleading and ruining what I thought had been a well-crafted, devil-may-care attitude about the two of us.
“Go wash that pussy of yours, and you’ll remember what we are to each other, sexy,” he growled, eyeing me like I was a tender baby deer on the Serengeti, and he was a leopard. “Nobody fucks your pretty little boy-pussy like me. Now hurry up and shower, baby. I need to catchSportscenter, and then I’ll be in with this.”
He opened the slit in his boxers and pulled out his huge dick, slapping it against his bare abdomen. I was too weak to resist. Maybe I could stay in New York instead of LA?
“Okay,” I said, standing and heading for the shower.
He waved me off as I walked to the bedroom. He’d give in if I actually moved away. As good as his dick was, my skills were just as good. Yep! He’d be following me wherever I went.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Hunter
Fourteen Years Ago
“Happy birthday, Hunt,” Mr. Hayes, Mark’s dad, said, holding my shoulder firmly. “Got a sec?” he asked, gesturing toward the garage.
“Want me to get Mark?”
“Actually, no, son. I want to speak to you alone.”
I followed Mr. Hayes through the door from the kitchen and into the garage. The garage door to the street was open, so I figured if Mark wondered where I’d gone, he could easily find us.
I leaned against the family van while Mark’s dad sat on a stool near his workbench. “Eighteen, huh?” he stated, running his hand along the top of his thigh. He seemed uncomfortable about something.
“Am I in trouble, sir? Did I do something wrong?”
He ran his hands through his graying hair and fixed his eyes on me. “Not yet,” he responded. “And that’s why you and I are going to have this little chat.”
“Okay, sir.”
I respected Mark’s dad. He was far cooler than mine and was really involved in Mark’s and Jill’s lives. He was there for them. Something my father never was. He knew Mark had his heart set on me, especially after prom, when Mark showedup at the dance and demanded I leave with him, unconcerned about his sister Jill, my date.
“As you are aware, son, Mark is still only fifteen,” he began. “I know sixteen is just two months away, but that doesn’t affect this little chat.”
“I don’t follow, sir,” I replied, nervously cracking my fingers while looking back at him.
“Are you boys having sex, son?” he asked point blank.
My face instantly flushed. The heat spreading across it was intense, and I thought for sure I’d shit my pants. “What?” I gasped, delaying my answer because I was embarrassed as fuck. “No! Gosh, no!” I added.
“Hunter?”
I raised my hand in protest. “I’m not lying, sir. Honestly, I’m not.”
“You’re boys, Hunt. Come on, I was a teenaged boy once myself.”
I glanced toward the open garage door, and then checked the kitchen door, moving toward him. I leaned in. “Your son is a prude, sir.” His eyes widened in shock before he began to laugh. “I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I’m sorry in advance, sir, but I have tried.”
