“No, I’m quite sure I’m gay, but all my life I heard that queer people were going to burn in hell. My parents are fanatically Evangelical, and I was raised in a very strict home. My father quoted Proverbs 24:13 like a fucking affirmation. He who spares his rod hates his son, But he who loves him disciplines him promptly. My father wasn’t one to spare the rod.”
Bailey chuckled. “Ya gotta love the religious zealots.”
I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. “My older brother is doing the same thing with my nieces, and it pisses me off. Kaleb is the rebellious one, refusing to marry the mother of his son. He’s the baby, and I guess that gives him a pass in Mom and Dad’s eyes.”
If I thought about it long enough, I’d guess my heart was a little broken too. But I was an adult. It was too late to whine about it.
“Ah, my folks are Presbyterians. Well, my mother is. I’m not sure what the General believed. Fuck, he probably thought he was God.” We both laughed.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” The few times I’d tried were horrible, and I felt bad for the women, fumbling idiot that I’d been.
“I have, actually. It was back in high school. Tiffany Lombard was a sweet girl. Thankfully, I wasn’t her first. She may have sworn off sex altogether because of me and my clumsiness. There aren’t many of us who are gold star gays.”
My confused expression made him smile. “Sorry?”
“Gold star tripping you up? It’s men who haven’t slept with women. There are some out there, but there are more guys like us who tried like hell not to be gay. I didn’t come out until I got out of the Army. My mother was fine with it. My dad would probably have shit a brick, regardless of how many medals were on my dress blues.”
“You got any pictures of yourself in those dress blues?” I wasn’t sure until that moment that I’d be a sucker for a uniform.
Bailey stared at me for a moment before breaking out in uproarious laughter. I joined him, blushing at how funny the situation was. Here I was, forty-four years old, having my first real crush.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty-nine. How old did you think I was?” There was that sexy smirk again.
“I don’t know, which is why I asked.”
“And you, Trooper?” Bailey winked at me.
“I’m forty-four. I’ve never been on a date with a man, and the blowjob you gave me earlier was the best one I’ve ever had, though I have had a couple of others.”
“Okay, uh, have you ever given a blowjob? It’s okay if you haven’t.”
I hadn’t, but I felt the need to clarify some things. “I need to set a few ground rules. No games, Bailey. I’m old and set in my ways. If this isn’t what you want, tell me now. I’m not fragile, but I don’t want you to rip off the bandage slowly if you don’t want a relationship, because that’s what I want.”
Bailey stood from the table and picked up the two glasses we’d been drinking from before shoving the bottle under his left arm. He walked toward the back door and stopped before he went inside, turning toward me.
“You coming?” He gave me a sexy wink and went inside.
Hopping up so quickly that I nearly knocked over my chair, I rushed inside like I was about to miss curfew. The glasses and bottle of whiskey were on the counter, and Bailey’s red T-shirt was on the hardwood floor at the hall entrance. His sneakers were three feet away, and his jeans were on the floor at my open bedroom door.
I pulled my black Sparks Bail Bonds polo from my jeans and over my head, dropping it next to his red shirt. My boots came off next to Bailey’s, and my jeans dropped on top of his by the bedroom doorway.
When I stepped into the room, my skin prickled with gooseflesh at seeing that beautiful body stretched across my bed in a pair of green boxer briefs with shamrocks decorating the crotch. I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of his long, hard cock perfectly outlined in four-leaf clovers.
“Wow.” Bailey sat up and stared at my blue-plaid boxers tenting in front of me. “Baby, those won’t do. Come on, gimme some eye candy.”
“What’s…? What’s wrong with my boxers? I’ve worn boxers most of my life.” I glanced down at my drawers, not sure what to say.
“I’ll give you they’re not Mormon underwear, but damn if they’re not far off. I had a fellow soldier who was a Mormon. Of course, we had to wear our government-issued skivvies, but when we weren’t on duty, Paul wore something he called temple garments. I’ve seen nuns showing more skin.”
I slid my boxers off and stood there in all my naked glory. “And now?”
Bailey stood from the bed and stepped closer to me. “Much better. Now, take mine off.”
I wasted no time sliding my thumbs into the elastic waistband of his drawers and slowly lowering them, not taking my gaze from every centimeter of gorgeous flesh revealed. His bush was neatly trimmed and his cock was hard, bobbing toward me.
Bailey leaned to the right to open the nightstand drawer. “No condoms?”
