Page 31 of Stray

“Because you’re not attracted to me.” I groan and rest my head back against the headrest.

“Alright, you and I both know you’re attractive. Obviously, I find you attractive. Anyone would.”

“But does this bother you?” She murmurs into my palm, and the feel of her cheek in my palm causes my dick to harden. Goddamn it.

“N-No,” I manage to get out. “But, I kind of need my hand to drive, and I’m sure you need to get back to Pops.” Realization washes over her, and she pulls back, leaving my hand suspended momentarily.

“You’re right,” she says quickly. “I need to get back to Morris.”

Sighing, I silently curse myself for disrupting the moment. It was perfect. She was letting me touch her. And, oh my god, her face is so soft. My mental beatdown stops when I feel Ozzy slide her hand into mine. A smile pulls at my lips as she runs her thumb over my hand while staring silently out the window.

Ozzy

“Morris,” I growl in frustration. “You ain’t winning this one, old man. Just lay down and take your loss!”

“No! Challenge!” He barks out, and my lip begins to twitch.

“You’ve never heard of a ‘cup of jo’? Jo is a valid word!” I argue as I gesture to the Scrabble board.

“I said challenge! I want a definition! Not some damn website that obviously has an ulterior motive.”

I snort as I lean back in my chair. “You’re right, Morris, the makers of Scrabble created that website just to fuck with you.” I look down at my vibrating smartwatch. “Alright, old man, this will be continued later. I have to go and make your lunch.”

“Make sure you add seasoning this time. I could taste the poison in my eggs last night.” He smirks, and I shake my head before walking out of his room and down the steps.

Making my way from the staircase to the kitchen, I spot Jackson at the island and sigh uncomfortably. We haven’t spoken much or at all since the hospital last week. Jackson and the guys have added work with Theo being off, and, well, we’re avoiding each other. He touched my face, and I didn’t scream and run. When we got home after that, I took care of Morris and then ran to my room to call my therapist, who warned me about mixing feelings of security and trust with lust or love. I didn’t really understand what she meant until the following morning when I had woken up from a very vivid sex dream starring me, Jackson, and the bed of his pickup. After that… yeah, I became very scarce.

“Hey Tink,” Jackson’s voice is off. It’s not his usual rich, authoritative tone. It’s weaker, scratchy, and tired.

“Hey,” I respond slowly and walk into the kitchen. “I was coming down to make your dad lun– Jackson, are you alright?” I ask as I look over his dark rings and pale complexion.

“Yeah… I just umm… I’m not feeling the best today, but I’ll be alright.” Hesitantly, I reach my hand up to touch his forehead, and I notice how he closes his tired eyes and leans into my touch.

“You feel a little feverish. You should go lay down.” Jackson shakes his head, and I watch him dump his uneaten food into the trash.

“I don’t have the time. I’ll lay down tonight.” He mutters before slipping his dark cowboy hat on and walking towards the back porch.

“You can’t be out there if you’re sick!” I huff, following him.

“If I ain’t out there, this ranch ain’t running. I don’t have–” I run around him and stand in front of his large frame. His body sways as if he’s unsteady on his feet.

“If you don’t march your ass back inside–”

“You’ll what?” He attempts to taunt me. It’s the least threatening he’s ever sounded. I raise a brow in challenge as I look out at the land.

“It would be unfortunate if I felt the need to follow you around to check on you all day in front of your brothers and employees.” His face falls before he shakes his head.

“I fucking hate you,” he mutters before returning to the house.

* * *

Taking a breath, I close my eyes and hit pause on my audiobook. The sex scene was intense well performed, but intense. I lay in my bed, looking at the ceiling as an image flashes through my brain. This time, it’s not the usual flashbacks. No, it’s Jackson on the floor the other night, his tongue wrapping around mine in such a possessive way it causes my toes to curl just thinking about it.

Biting my lip nervously, I slide my hand into my pajama pants. I don’t do this, ever. Orgasming was turned into a weapon, and I usually find the release triggering, so I usually hold off until I can’t anymore, like now.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as my fingers find their way to my center. A whimper escapes as I feel a wave of nausea rolls through me. Goddamn it. This isn’t going to work if I keep getting nervous.

I nearly piss myself when my phone starts buzzing. Looking at the screen, I groan. Jackson. Perfect. My hand is on my crotch, and he is calling. Sighing, I accept the call and stick my earbud in with my free hand.

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