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“I-I’m not into men.”
A big hand glides around my hip, down… and palms my hard cock.
“Your body tells me otherwise,” he mumbles and squeezes.
“Fuck…” My hip jerks, seeking more of his touch at the same time as words tumble out of my mouth. “Don’t. I’m into women.”
I gasp as the heat from his body disappears.
“I’m not going to force myself on you, Jamie.”
His voice is strained, gravelled, and as I turn, his broad shoulders squeeze through the wagon door.
I rush after him. “Trevor!”
He stops, his back to me.
“I-I’m sorry,” I continue. “I’m confused, I think I’m sending wrong signals.” I swallow hard around the words that seem all wrong.
Trevor huffs and tilts his head up to the corrugated ceiling. “Is that what you think?”
I don’t know what to say, so instead I ask, “Have you… always known you were gay?”
Finally, he turns, eyes burning into mine. “Yeah, ever since I was thirteen and watched Gerald Butler in 300.”
I snort. And snort again. The corner of Trevor’s mouth tugs.
“Did your parents know?”
“About me watching 300 at only thirteen?”
“Dick,” I mumble and now he chuckles.
“Mum knew I was gay, she was fine with it.” His face softens but on a big inhale, his expression changes, goes flat. “Dad did too, but he didn’t really understand, I think. He was older, of an older generation, you know, fifty-three by the time Julie was born. He never talked about it. I think he worried about the future of the farm, if I had no offspring.” His voice trails off, and the remorse for his father is so apparent in the strained lines around his downcast eyes and his slumped shoulders.
“All that guilt.”
His gaze snaps up, his eyes darkening. “All that guilt, and I can’t even get a romp with the hottest guy in camp.”
He thinks I’m hot?
“I-I’ve always been into women.” Why is my tone so weak?
“Yet you’ve checked me out every time we’ve met, from that first time in the reception.” Have I? He lowers his voice. “And you’re hard every time I touch you.”
I don’t know why I step closer, don’t know if I believe the explanation tumbling out of my mouth. “It’s… it’s because… you take away my decisions. You take over. I don’t have to think.”
“You want to be taken care of?”
God, his voice, mocking yet so powerful. A chill goes down my back, and I don’t answer, but grab his shirt and pull him to me.
Hard lips, hard, hard lips that force mine apart, swallowing my cry as his tongue demands entrance. I’ve never been kissed like this, never had anyone grip my head so firmly, never had anyone duel and win the fight for control. It’s freeing. Losing control is freeing. I soften in his embrace and then swear out loud when he bites the column of my throat and almost cry tears of relief when his voice rumbles with the words, “I’ll look after you.”
I rip the band out of his hair and bury my fingers in the soft, curly strands. I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw him. His sweet moan as I tug is a siren’s song, making me want more. Too lost in this revelation, in forbidden sensations, I don’t question when he walks me backwards. Suddenly my balance is lost. I’m falling!
“As I said, this is a nice place for a romp in the hay.” He grins, towering over me where I’m sprawled out on the dry grass. He sinks down to his knees, straddling me, and I’m helpless, lost.
My abs contract as Trevor pushes my polo shirt up and off, exposing my chest and slim waist. Prickly hay scratches my back and callused fingers trace my lean muscles, down to the faint V.
