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Jack scratched his beard. “My mom for sure. She’s been waiting for me to get a normal job and settle down, as she’s told me a hundred times. I think she may even suspect the reason I’m still single is that I’m not that into women. My dad is a different story. My parents got divorced when I was twenty. Classic midlife story of a man who got bored with his life and decided to cheat with a younger woman.”
George winced. “Ouch. I take it your mom found out about it?”
Jack sighed. “The fucker got his sidepiece pregnant, which turned out to be her intention all along. She played him like a fiddle, and he’s still paying for it. Serves him right. My mom filed for divorce, and she took him to the cleaners. I always considered her a sweet person, but she was cold as ice in the divorce proceedings, and she took him for everything he had. She came from some money, and her father had insisted on a prenup when she married my dad. It included a cheating clause, which my father had conveniently forgotten about, so she walked away with everything.”
“Is it wrong to admire the hell out of her for that? So many women end up losing in divorce battles, especially when it comes to money.”
“Oh, I cheered her on every step of the way. I’m still in touch with my father, but it’s more so I have access to my half-brother than anything else. My dad turned into a bitter old man, so not much joy there.”
George seemed to sense Jack wanted to change the topic. Thinking about his father always made him depressed and frustrated, even so many years later.
“Can I see you at work?” George asked.
Jack shot him a surprised look. “You mean make a piece?”
“Yeah. I wanna see how you do it.”
That hadn’t been his intention, but why not? They had the time, and he always had enough material to work on something. “Sure. What do you want me to make?”
George shrugged. “Whatever you feel like. Honestly, no preference. I just wanna see you handle that chainsaw.”
Jack grinned. “Men and their toys, huh?”
George winked at him. “Bonus points if you’re bare-chested.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. If a wood splinter comes flying, I’d like it to not pierce my skin, thank you very much. But I can promise to take off my shirt once I get to the small stuff.”
“Works for me.”
Jack gestured to George to follow him, then pointed at a chair. “You can sit there. Make sure to wear these ear protectors. That saw gets loud, especially inside.”
He set everything up, choosing a small piece of oak he screwed tightly into his workbench. He topped off the chainsaw with gas, then donned his safety glasses, dust mask, ear protectors, and the leather apron he always wore that protected his body from flying wood pieces. He double-checked to make sure everything was secure, then started the saw.
As always, the shape presented itself to him as soon as he’d studied the wood. There had been instances when he decided to make something before he’d experienced the wood, and it never turned out well. He had to observe it, sense what it wanted to be, strange as that might sound. And this time, he’d make a bird. An eagle.
He started working, forgetting about everything else but the saw in his hands and the piece of wood in front of him. The rough shape was easy, but once that was done, the hard work came. He switched to a smaller saw, his arms moving on their own without him consciously guiding them. His eyes saw the lines already, the curve of the eagle’s chest, the feathers on its wings. Finishing the whole bird would take too long, but he’d at least get the rough shape in.
His arms never grew tired. In fact, the saw he was wielding was a hell of a lot lighter than the ones he was used to, and his arms were well trained after years of being a lumberjack. Excitement flared in his belly when the shape took form. Would he ever get over that feeling of awe of creating something?
He didn’t stop until he was satisfied. He’d have to etch in the finer lines of the feathers, its eyes, and its feet later with a smaller tool, but for now, he was done. He turned off the saw, then checked his watch. Damn, it had taken him over an hour, and all that time, George had sat still. Jack quickly took off his safety gear and gestured at George he could do the same.
“What do you think?” Jack asked, pointing at his creation.
“It’s incredible,” George said. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you shape it. One moment, it was a block of wood, and the next, this stunning eagle formed right before my eyes.”
Pleasure filled Jack’s heart, spreading out all through his body. “Thank you. I love doing this. I love working with wood.”
“So do I,” George said, shooting him a saucy wink, and Jack laughed out loud. God, George was so unashamed in his sexual innuendos, and Jack loved it. He’d hoped to have fun for two weeks with him, but he’d never expected to grow as fond of George as he had. Going back to work in five days would be hell.
12
Sunlight flooded the room, but George kept his eyes closed, way too comfortable to properly wake up. Thank fuck for the weekends when Jack didn’t insist on them getting up at some ungodly hour. Although if George were honest, he didn’t mind so much after a few days. Waking up with Jack was much more fun than on his own, and working out together followed by a shower in which something sexual always took place wasn’t a punishment either. But still, yay for Saturday mornings.
Jack was plastered against his back, that massive body rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. George loved how Jack’s cock always found a place to snuggle, whether it was between his ass cheeks, his legs, or pressing against his back like it did now, like a constant reminder of who he belonged to.
His Daddy. Every time he said that word in his head, he tasted it on his tongue, rolling it around and feeling the weight and power of it. A word he’d used so many times when talking to Gale over the years, but it had never had the emotional impact it had now. Just thinking of Jack as his Daddy made his breath hitch and his belly flutter.
And this time, he had a tangible reminder of Daddy as well…in his ass. Jack had fucked him the night before, had then cleaned him up and shoved a lubed-up plug into his ass. When George had asked what that was for, he’d been told that it wasn’t important. The fact that Daddy wanted it there should be enough. Funnily enough, it had been. It had also been strangely arousing and erotic, knowing that Daddy was keeping him open to be used for his pleasure.
