Page 47 of Off Sides

“He’s an ass,” he states.

“Yeah,” I agree. “But my parents and my grandfather would disown me. I wouldn’t have a family anymore.”

I looks pained, and I wonder for a minute if he understands. But honestly, how can he? He has Micah and Jenna and the girls. He has a family. “I sometimes call my mom.”

That surprises me. “What?”

He looks a little shy now, tucking his face into my side and tracing the trail of hair that goes from my belly button down to my groin, over and over again. “Late at night. When I can’t sleep. I’ll call her cellphone. She never answers. I know she knows it’s me, but she never calls back.”

My heart breaks for him, cracking in half because right now, in this moment, he doesn’t sound like the confident man I know. He sounds like a little boy who just wants his mom to love him.

“My dad is a total prick. A preacher who pretty much just preaches hate.”

“He’s a pastor?”

He nods. “Yup. A popular one who even has his Sunday sermons televised.”

I crinkle my nose. My mom watches those programs for fun. After she goes to the local church. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. He’s made a lot of money off his bullshit. Gained quite the reputation. Has everything he could ever want . . . except a gay son who refused to hide it.”

“That’s fucked-up.”

I can feel him smile against my bare skin. “It is. When I left, I took the truck he bought me for my sixteenth birthday. I thought for sure he’d show up and take it back. Or call and demand I bring it back, but he never did. And I know it’s because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need it, and he just plain doesn’t care. He’d rather lose he truck than have to deal with me.”

I hold Jonah a little tighter to my body, protectiveness filling my soul, wanting to keep him safe, and honestly go down to Texas and beat the living hell out of his father. “But your mom . . .” I start, not really sure where I’m going with this.

“The obedient pastor’s wife, through and through. But I thought . . .” He’s silent for a moment and I think maybe he’s not going to finish what he started to say. A moment later, I hear his quiet voice say, “I thought she cared a little.”

“I’m sorry, Jonah. You deserved better.”

I swallow hard and hold him tightly to me. He moves up my body, slowly blanketing me with his body, chest to chest, face-to-face. Then he settles between my legs. My semi-hard cock taking notice of his slowly growing erection. “We both deserve better. We both deserve to be who we are.”

“I can’t,” I croak because I want to. God, do I want to. “They’re all I have. I’m not like you, Jonah.”

He looks hurt for a moment. He doesn’t pull away, but his entire body does go tense on top me. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not free. I’m not brave. You are brave,” I say honestly. And I’m sure he thought I was going to deny being like him—gay. But I’m past that part. Sort of. “You are so brave,” I say, leaning up to steal his lips.

He gives in immediately, kissing me back until both of us are fully hard and leaking. I can’t get enough of him. I want more of him. I want . . .

“Fuck me,” I breathe against his lips.

He startles a little, clearly surprised. “We don’t have to do that, you know? We have time.”

But I can tell he’s lust-drunk—wanting it just as badly as I do. “I want it. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I don’t want to pressure him, but I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have him inside me.

“Or you could fuck me?” he asks, but he looks a little nervous, his eyes trailing down between our body, zoning in on my hard cock. “Slowly. Like really slowly.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Soon? Maybe work up to that?”

He looks a little relieved now, but the nerves are still there. It’s oddly funny to me that he seems to be way more nervous than I am, and he’s not the one about to have a dick in his ass for the first time. “Are you sure?”

I nod immediately. “I may have brought lube.”

He smirks. “What about condoms?”