“Fuck!”His other cheeks flame.“Why—why would you want to do that?”
“Because it’s you.”
He turns his head to peer back at me as much as he’s able without properly turning.“I already told you I don’t like—”
“—being impaled?I don’t have the right appendages for that.”Only a tongue, which I poke out at him.
He makes asnip-snipmotion with his fingers.
“What is it you don’t like about it?”I ask, after I’ve given his arse another dozen or so squeezes, and I’ve got him shivering in delight with the circles I’ve been making with my tongue.
“I thought your goal was to turn me on and wear me out.”
Just so.“To do that, it helps to understand what makes you tick.”
I sense the instant stiffness of his body, as previously relaxed muscles bunch.“I don’t like it because it’s something I had forced on me, and that’s as much as I’d like to say about the topic.”
Oh!Oh, fuck!I bite my lips.“Shit!I’m sorry.”
“You know what.I think maybe I’d like to get some sleep.”He wriggles his way out from beneath me, and turns onto his side again, this time facing the wall, having pulled the duvet up to his chin.“It’s been a very long day.”
The only thing for it is to migrate to the same end of the bed and settle down with my head on a pillow beside him.“I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to dredge up horrid memories, I was trying to—”
“—distract me from the reality that some sick fuck out there—” he waves his arm in a direction vaguely indicative of the door, “—wants to either kill me, or carve me up.And for what?What have I done to them?What could I possibly have done that would warrant that response?”
I wish I knew the answer, that I could hold him close and whisper something other than hypotheticals to soothe away his pain, but he won’t even allow me to hold him in order to offer comfort.I spoon against his body, my cheek pressed into the space between the ridges of his shoulder blades, but Dylan has already shut me out.I might as well be snuggling against a cardboard facsimile.
When I wake the next morning, Dylan’s no longer in the bed.In fact, he’s no longer in the room.
-11-
-Dylan Drake-
Here’s the thing, I’m intelligent enough to know when I’m mistaken.The question I have to ask myself therefore, is whether I’m man enough to admit being wrong?It’s not easy processing something you’ve refused to entertain even the merest smidgen of a possibility of for all your adult life and a fair portion of your childhood.I’ve always been attracted to guys.I knew I was gay, and have identified as such for well over a decade.I still am.Although, there’s apparently a bit of me that also gets fired up by a nice pair of tits, a curvy hourglass figure, and the wet heat of a thoroughly willing pussy.
Madness, I know, hence the pounding in my head echoing the thump of my feet against the treadmill.
Sweat drips into my eyes, and instinctively I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
I fucking hate the gym.This is not where I want to be.Running, rowing, climbing my way to nowhere, and that’s before we get to the ingrained stink that permeates every inch of the place.There are pastures surrounding this hotel.Fields upon fields of greenery, all bathed in an ethereal morning mist.I could get lost in that shifting sea of grey.It’s where I pretend I am now, negotiating stony, broken pathways, uncovering hidden dells, instead of listening to Techno garbage and watching an endless parade of scantily clad men and women twerk their arses on the music channel.
It appears I possess some modicum of self-preservation, which is why I’m enduring this trauma, rather than enjoying some tranquillity in the great outdoors.Mustn’t go out alone, the big bad bogeyman…woman…thing might get me.It’s only safe to show my face if I’m accompanied by security personnel.
My current bodyguard is still blissfully dreaming.
I don’t want her around now anyway.I need to think.I can’t do that when she’s present.The logic centres in my brain shut down the moment she walks in the room and dickie takes over.
Kira fucked me into near oblivion last night.That might be why I can just about think about her now without sporting a monumental hard-on.
The attraction is real.There’s no denying it.
And no doubt a goofy grin is right now contorting my face.
I fucking loved every minute of last night.Every, fucking, intense, moronic, illuminating minute.
What’s more, I know that what exists between us doesn’t change who I am.I’m still Dylan Cornelius Drake.I’m still predominantly gay.It’s just that I’ve unexpectedly stumbled across the one woman in the world whose magic hoodoo works on my cock, and now I’ve had that taste of pussy, I want more…but only of that very specific pussy.The rest are still…pfft…like pretty ornaments to me, aesthetically pleasing on some level, but nothing to get excited about.
Kira, though… Kira, I could fall in love with, if I didn’t also think that was the dumbest idea to ever cross my mind.Believe me, I’ve entertained more than a few brainless thoughts in my time, and in fact, acted on more than a couple of them.
