“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a very appropriate sort of guy.”
“Appropriate,” I repeat dumbly.
“Yeah. I can pick up on a predator pretty quickly, and there’s nothing predatory about him. He goes out of his way to…I dunno. Show me he’s never going to come on to me?”
Knowing what I do about Ant’s history, I’m grateful he’s comfortable around Bram.
“So, he’s, what? Standoffish?”
Ant shakes his head. “It’s hard to explain. He’s thoughtful,andI will never have to worry about him trying to take advantage of me.”
“So…are there people whodoset off your alarm bells?”
He wrinkles his nose. “I ran into Jason and Justin’s father the other day, and he’s not a good person. I wouldn’t want to be in a room alone with him.”
Interesting.
“Agreed. I guess I was asking if there was anyone in our group who set off alarm bells. Like, I know Anders can be inappropriate sometimes—”
He holds up his hand. “Anders is inappropriate in a way that everyone sorta agrees with, and he would never harm me.” He stops and thinks as the road rolls by in the gray morning light. “I mean, I know my opinion doesn’t mean anything, but nobody associated with the Jennings brothers, the ranches, or the vineyard makes me nervous. I’m not always totally comfortable as the outsider, but I’m not picking up anything bad from them.”
I draw my chin back as I turn onto the highway leading into town. “Outsider? Whatever. Every single one of those people would protect you with their lives.”
Ant’s eyes fall to his lap, and he fidgets with his fingers.
Anxious to change the subject, I continue, “Anyway, let’s look at the schedule and see what we’ve got planned for the day.”
“Sounds good,” he says. Ant holds up his fist, and I bump it.
Apparently, chafed is now more or less a permanent condition of my cock. For the last month, every Friday dinner has been followed by Saturday ointment.
Dr. Barlowewalks me out to my truck after dinner, inquiring about my job, verifying that I’ve started taking the supplements he recommended, adjusting my posture. Always ending the night by telling me I’ve been a good boy.
He wants more. I know he does. I also know why he hesitates. It’s more than just the laws. It’s important to be able to think of himself as a force for good in the world. Pursuing whatever this is contradicts that carefully crafted self-image.
And God, do I want to make him contradict himself, to be so fucking hot for us that he breaks all his own rules. I’ve jacked off dozens of times to every possible scenario, each time imagining his rare, pleased smile. God, I am so fucked in the head.
He’s also texting me to demand updates, which is inexplicably hotter. There’s, of course, malicious compliance, but I prefer what I’m callingdelicious compliance. And oh, do I make him pay.
Dr. Barlowe:Please provide me with your water intake today.
I answer with a shirtless selfie of me chugging an enormous glass of water, a fair amount of it dripping down my chest.
A few days later:
Dr. Barlowe:Have you begun using the sunscreen I suggested?
I send him a ten-minute video of me applying it while wearing only a pair of shorts with a four-inch inseam.
Dr. Barlowe:Have you booked your annual physical?
I do as he asks, then send him a voice memo of the doctor asking me to turn and cough. I make sure to capture the cough.
Dr. Barlowe:I passed by the Kerr family farm and saw their new fencing. Excellent job. I’m proud of you.
I don’t respond to that one because it makes me feel a little too warm and fuzzy, and I’m afraid I might say something too sincere. I’m pretty sure sincerity would be about as welcome as admitting we have a dynamic to begin with.
12
