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“What do you mean?”
“Brian used to like my hair out like that. He used to spend a lot of time brushing my hair. He said he liked the way it felt on his skin.” I fight back a gag and take a deep breath, momentarily closing my eyes. When the storm subsides a little, I open my lids to find Shaun looking at me with so much care that I almost cry again. Almost. “Then, when I turned up at my first Feast night. Master Hill came to the barn to show me where everything was, and he sat in the corner and watched me get ready. Once I had my painted mask on, he beckoned me over to him, and he asked me to take my buns out, so I did. Then he sat me down and brushed my hair, just like Brian used to. Master Hill liked what he saw and told me that Feasters will like the way it looks and feels, so I must always wear it down.” I shrug, “So I kind of associate my hair down with the Feast and with Master Hill and my old foster dad. I guess it makes me feel wrong when I wear it down anywhere else. Kinda like wearing underwear on the outside of your clothes.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Kitten. It really is beautiful hair, and I wish you could enjoy it. Maybe you should consider cutting it shorter? Do you think it will feel different then?”
I shrug again. “Maybe.”
Shaun offers me a sympathetic smile, and I can’t help myself. I lean forward and press my lips to his. Shaun Bossier is an amazing kisser. The type that would have my leg cocking to wrap around him if we were standing up. As our tongues dance and he tastes and nibbles my lips like they’re a delicate dessert, he holds me tight against his chest, letting me drown in him. We kiss for the longest time. I don’t recall ever kissing anyone for as long as that before, and even though Kitty stirs, I don’t do anything about it. I ignore her and just let myself feel the passion behind this lip claiming.
Eventually, we pull back from each other, knowing we have to end this day so we can start a new one tomorrow, and Shaun waits outside the girl’s toilet door while I go in and do my business.
By the time we make it back to my tent, Garrett has made himself at home, setting up his sleeping bag next to mine, leaving a small gap big enough to walk between, and Shaun pecks my lips before zipping the tent closed. The first thing I notice as I move forward is that Garrett’s chest is bare under that sleeping bag, leading my mind to wonder if he’s wearing something on the bottom—not that it matters, I’m not going to find out—and the muscles of his arms bunch and flex as he lays with his hands behind his head, his icy-blues studying my face the whole time as if he’s assessing my reaction.
“You look comfy.” I smile down at him and then glance around, wondering how I’m meant to get changed with him in here.
“I’m very comfy.” He grins.
“Sooo… I need to get changed,” I state, feeling nerves I’m not used to feeling. Normally I’d whip my clothes off, but Garrett and I are dancing around each other, and I’m not ready to cross the line yet. I never fucking thought I’d consider that scenario, so I hope it’s worth the wait.
“I can close my eyes if you like?”
A laugh bursts free, and my eyes widen. “You really think I’ll fall for that?”
He grins broadens. “Rhys, I’m no perve.”
“I know you’re not. But youarea guy.”
“A guy who hasn’t made a move on you.” His eyes narrow pointedly at me.
“True. Are you gay, Cole? I’m pretty sure I can convince Shaun to suck your dick if you like?”
The deep rumble of Garrett’s laugh fills me with warmth before he shakes his head. “No way am I letting any guy near my dick.”
“Nawww, not even for me?” I flutter my lashes. “Not even if I beg because it will turn me on soooo bad?”
“Nope. Not even then. Besides,” Garrett shifts and rolls onto his stomach, resting his head down in the crook of his arms, “Once you see my cock, you won’t want to share it with anyone.”
“Ha!” I clutch my chest and laugh. “Touché, Big Guy.”
Making use of Garrett’s back to me, I quickly search my bag for my Flyleaf t-shirt and get changed before slipping into my sleeping bag.
“You can look now,” I say quietly, and Garrett rolls on his side, bunching his pillow under his head as he gets comfy and looks at me.
“Aren’t you going to let your hair down?” He asks, and I frown.
“What is it with you guys and wanting my hair down?”
He frowns this time. “Who wants your hair down?”
“Oh, you know,” I shrug, “Brian, Master Hill, the Feasters… Shaun and Tyler.”
Garrett pushes himself up, his sleeping bag pooling around his naked waist, and all I can do is look at the sculpted God before me. I can just imagine what it would be like to run my fingers over the ridges of his abs. Much the same as Ty’s, I’d guess.
“Fuck, Cole. Do you have anything on under there?”
He grins, “I have jocks on. Don’t worry. My mammoth snake can’t get to you.”
“Stop calling it mammoth. You’re making my mouth water.” I bite my lip as images of a dick so big that it drags on the ground flash through my mind.
