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I wasn’t even sure if my dad knew I was gay. I’d never told him. I doubted he’d care from a moral standpoint. He wasn’t the least bit religious. He drove into Houston to go to a fancy church but only because it was good for business. My being gay might lower his social standing though, which would surely be a sin in his eyes.
Blake knew. He’d caught me with another boy when I was fifteen. I’d been so glad it had been him who had caught us because he was the only out gay man I knew. He’d given me a lecture about being careful both with my body and about getting caught, but he hadn’t shamed me, and he’d never told my father. I’d been sent away to boarding school the next year after beating up one of the star football players at my local school. As far as I knew, my father hadn’t figured out that I’d beaten the boy up for calling a friend a fag.
It wasn’t going to be easy to please Blake, but at least—unlike with my father—it was possible, and I could enjoy the scenery. Maybe I wouldn’t get to fuck him, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t think about it as I was lying in bed at night after watching him all damn day.
Several days later, the tractor broke down, and Blake expected me to help him fix it. I was hot and tired and really fucking sick of my father punishing me for failing at something I made very clear I didn’t want to do.
“Why don’t we just call a mechanic to work on it?”
Blake lifted his Stetson long enough to wipe sweat off his brow. “You tell me.”
“My dad’s got plenty of money. I’m sure we can hire someone.”
“Your dad doesn’t always choose to spend his money on the things that might help the ranch most.”
“What would he say if I told him you said that?” I hated myself the moment the words were out. I was being a brat, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was too used to playing my expected role, and I didn’t have the energy to fight my worst instincts when I was dizzy from the heat and my entire body ached.
“Not a damn thing because you’re not going to tell him, just like I’m not going to tell him you’re being a privileged little shit.”
I scowled at him. “Are you blackmailing me?”
“Boy, you don’t want to go there.”
Damn, him calling me “boy” made me even hotter for him. “What are you going to do, spank me?”
He looked up from where he’d been bent over the engine. This time I had no doubt there was heat in his eyes. He held my gaze, and my cock started to swell. I’d never wanted to be spanked before, but right then, I wanted it more than anything. If he’d asked me to drop my pants and bend over his knee, I wouldn’t have even thought twice. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted him to make me good, to show me how to stop saying things I didn’t mean. Tears stung the back of my eyes, and I looked away quickly. “Just show me what to do, okay? The only thing I know about tractors is how to drive one.”
“First, I want you to understand that it’s not just about money. It takes time to get a mechanic out here. If you can fix something yourself, you can get it done quickly and get back to work. A lot of what we need to do out here can’t wait on someone else’s schedule. So if you learn to do the tasks you can, it helps everyone.”
“And sometimes it’s just about my dad being a bastard.”
Blake glanced at me, and his lips quirked up in a grin. “No comment.”
I tried again to turn the stubborn bolt Blake had asked me to remove. My hand slipped, and the pliers dug into the base of my thumb, tearing the skin. “Ow. Fuck. I’m sick of this goddamn thing.” I threw the pliers across the grass and pushed to my feet. Before I could stomp off, Blake grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face him.
“Show me your thumb.” I held it up for him to see. It was covered in grease. Dirt and blood ran down my arm. “Don’t you dare move.”
His words rooted me in place. When he used that tone with me, I couldn’t disobey. I felt dizzy as my mind buzzed with inner voices telling me I couldn’t learn, that I was never going to stick with anything, that there was something wrong with me. I needed something to block them out. Maybe Blake would let me quit early, and I could raid my father’s liquor cabinet.
