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“You really are an arrogant asshole.” Clark Farmer has called me this often, but this time, there’s a humor of amusement with his laugh.
“I’m just stating a fact. My last boyfriend only found out my true name after we’d dated for three months. I went by my mother’s maiden name, Roan. He was pissed at first but understood. That way, I knew he wasn’t dating me for the name but that he truly loved me.”
There’s a sigh on his end, and I feel the rush of his breath behind me. “Okay, when explained like that, I get it. It was the man you were with through our time at Notre Dame and Yale, right?”
David Langston. I thought he was the love of my life. And he might have been. I’ve never found another to live up to what we shared. “David was offered a job in England after graduation. He wanted me to go with him, and fuck, did I want to. He’d wanted to get me away from my dad, the one poison in my life, and we could forget about the only arguments that occurred in our relationship. But, at the end of the day, I’m set to take over for Lynol Inc when Dad retires. It was our arrangement. I was only eighteen. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. And he’s used it every step of the way. He wanted me to go into business. I chose law, and he about disowned me. Our agreement had been taking over at Lynol Inc in ten years. I’ll stick to my agreement. But if for some reason he changes his mind, I won’t fight him on it. I want so much more than to be under his thumb for the rest of my life. You can tell I don’t have much love for the man, but I had to keep my word. If I didn’t, what makes me different from the dick who donated his sperm?”
Clark couldn’t understand the problems that a billion-dollar business brings. I most likely sound like a whiny kid because I know from conversations I’d overheard with my mom and Martina Farmer that money was always so tight in the Farmer household.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t go with David. I’ve yet to find that sort of love.”
It leads me to my next question. “Jennifer Laney isn’t the love of your life? Could have fooled me.” Clark lets out a groan behind me. His breath is still present on my bare skin.
“We were going through the motions. We’re just us, but what we once shared is gone. After all these years, I should want to marry her. When I didn’t ask, she never hinted. Made me wonder if she was holding on to something because we’re both familiar and safe.”
His situation is different from mine. I’ll never find another David, yet he’s looking for his greatest love.
“And you guys are what exactly?”
Clark lets out this hearty chuckle, and boy, my soft cock takes notice. It snaps back to attention.
“Best friends. Fuck buddies when we get lonely, and after being with each other as long as we have, we miss one another. We decided we can’t start over if we constantly hold on to something neither of us wants.”
“Wise words. Who would have thought you were this smart?” I tease.
“You, for one, I beat you out of every single thing from third grade on, you know.”
“Fuck you,” I tease, “I had beat you occasionally, plus we were co-valedictorians, so we tied, too. And, I can’t forget I was the quarterback and not you.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Mr. Money Bags.” He rolls over, lifting the cover from his body, inviting a chill to surround us both. “I’m going to put more logs on the fire.” He doesn’t move from where he sits on the bed. I can’t roll over because my cock hates me today, but I twist my head far enough, and as I guessed, he’s still sitting on the bed, and he begins to cough again. He pushes to stand up, then falls back down, and the reverberation of his large body is felt through the entire mattress.
“You okay, Farmer?” I ask.
“Just a little dizzy. And my fucking ankle still aches. Give me a second.”
“No, crawl back under the covers. I’ll get up.” I scoot my body to the side of the bed and think of every scenario that will send my very eager cock to sleep. Or at least I need to, but my rogue buddy down under has become a problematic prick.
“I think I have a little bit of vertigo. I get it from time to time,” he claims and the bed shifts again, and I hope his limbs or any part of his body don’t touch mine.
“I’m holding in all the body heat until I can get the nerve to stand up,” I lie with a blanket over me, as I conjure up images of everything that can deflate a boner, yet, here I am, still fully erect. I deploy another tactic. “Hey, let me feel your head. Maybe you have a fever?” He rolls over, and somehow I twist my torso toward him, keeping the lower half away from his line of sight.
I reach for his head, and as I guessed, my body temperature is off, and I can’t tell if Clark is warm or if my hands are icicles. And why the fuck did I think touching him was a good idea?
“What’s the verdict, Doc?” Clark teases, and for some reason, I smile at his humor.
“I can’t tell if you have a fever or not. You may be a bit hot, but I’m not sure.” My words hit me as Clark’s deep-bellied chuckle fills the cabin. Somehow it makes my lips turn up into more of a smile. Why have I spent years hating the man when he’s rather enjoyable?
“Just a little bit hot, Xan? I thought maybe you might give me more credit. I’ve been told I’m rather hot, just not a little.”
Keeping my hard-on under wraps is impossibly difficult because his humor is just as attractive as his looks. I twist my body again. “You must be feeling better since you’re back to your asshole ways, Farmer.”
The oddest thing happens at this moment we’re sharing—he winks. And fuck, does my erection turn on me. My cock is an asshole with a mind of its own. I move my line of sight to the chair behind me, where thank fuck my pants sit, and they must be dry by now. I adjust my body, scoot over to the side of the bed, and can fling my slacks on, along with a white undershirt. I tuck my cock up into my boxers to avoid the outline in my pants.
“Smart move, getting dressed. I have a change of clothes in my backpack. Can you grab them for me?” He tosses another wink my way.
My body can’t take his kind of affection. Can’t my cock get it through his stubborn head that we don’t like Clark Farmer?
Turning my back to him and attempting to avoid my cock going rogue again, I pull for a log and place it on top of the fire, taking the rod and moving it so as not to extinguish the few embers that are still burning. Moving it around, the flames build, and the heat envelopes us again.
