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Clint let out a hum, which turned into a gasp as he touched Dumber’s neck. “They’re so coarse. They looked so soft.”
Dumb bobbed his head, searching for scratches of his own.
“Don’t take any offense, buddy,” said Scotland, letting out a grin. “You’re still my little floof ball.” He ran his hand over Dumb’s face before rubbing the soft fuzz of his muzzle. “You should have seen these two when they were born. They were both so fluffy that they looked like they’d been struck by lightning.”
Clint chuckled, reaching a second hand out to pet both donkeys at the same time. A few flies had caught up to them, buzzing around them, but Clint didn’t seem to mind. “Were they born here?”
“Yeah.” Those had been the days. “I got their mama off a farmer who didn’t want her anymore. She was so depressed and had barely been outside the barn in years. The first three days she was here she wouldn’t even step outside of the trailer, so I just left it in the paddock until she did.” It had been so heartbreaking to see an animal afraid of the big outdoors, simply because she’d never been exposed.
“Next thing I knew, she was the light of my life. She loved everyone, except Samuel, funnily enough.” He snorted, shaking his head. “She tried to run him down in the paddock. She was so huge at that point that it was like watching a bouncy ball chase a football player.”
“Who was Samuel?” asked Clint, his expression soft as he gazed at the creatures.
“One of my old Doms,” said Scotland, leaning away to crack his back. He’d been stooped over for far too long. “We were together for about a year until we both realized it wasn’t going to work out.”
“Ah.” Clint nodded. “It happens.”
“Yep.” It had been a mutual parting that didn’t give him much grief. He still saw Samuel sometimes, and he really hadn’t missed him. “But anyway, here’s this donkey running around all this space with a new diet and everything good, and she just kept getting fatter. I took her for walks every day because she’d follow me around everywhere, but nothing seemed to get the weight off.”
One of his fondest memories had been walking through the bush with Penny at his side and stumbling on a herd of white-tailed deer. They’d taken off once they’d spotted him, and Penny had just flicked her ears and kept on walking.
“Then one morning I woke up and I didn’t have one donkey anymore— I had three. Twins are really rare for these guys, and there was no way I was ever selling them. They stayed here, even after their momma passed a few years later.” He swallowed as he remembered that day. He’d never been so fucking broken in his life. Luckily, he’d had a sub at the time who had been one of the sweetest guys Scotland had ever met. Riley had held him as he’d cried for hours.
He’d almost always had someone there for him, and someone who could hug him or hold him and cherish him after a long day. But when was the last time Clint had had that?
“Let me make you dinner, Clint,” he said softly, giving Dumber one last pat.
Clint swallowed, tugging some grass and passing it through the fence to Dumber, who gobbled it as if it were candy. “Okay.”
Chapter Seven
Clint
His plan to get Scotland to back off had pretty much crashed and burned. Truth be told, it was barely a wisp of an idea with a tad of cruelty thrown in. He’d waited for the disgust to bloom when he’d blatantly paraded about with no shirt on, but obviously Scotland wouldn’t be deterred so quickly.
People usually stared at the scars, even when they tried not to. Then, the awkward questions would come. But if anything, Scotland was staring at his chest, his gaze zeroed in on one nipple at a time.
The fucking donkeys, though. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen ones that were quite so small before…or adorable. That hellish noise they’d made had pulled him straight out of his hangry stupor.
And now, somehow, he was eating some of the best steak he’d ever had, on a plate piled with so many different vegetables that he wasn’t sure if they’d ever fit in his stomach. The shit-eating grin on Scotland’s face was even tolerable as the tender meat practically melted in his mouth.
“S’good,” said Clint, stabbing another bean, mushroom and piece of steak before shoveling it in his mouth like a miniature kabob. When he moaned at the taste, a pink flush bloomed over Scotland’s face.
The guy was cute—that he could come to terms with—but he was also dangerous.
“I can’t promise every meal will be steak, but I’ll try to keep you from getting hungry while you’re here. And if you need a snack, just shoot me a text, and I can grab something on my way home from work.” Scotland licked his lips, the blue tips of his hair falling forward as he ducked his head.
“Let me know the time, and I’ll make sure I put on a shirt,” Clint mumbled, looking off to the side. The house was tastefully decorated and bright, with a modern look, despite the century-old exterior.
“I don’t have any rules out here,” said Scotland. “If you want to walk around nude in the bush, I couldn’t care less. You’ll probably get a bunch of mosquito bites on your balls, though.”
“No thanks.” Clint grinned, closing his legs at the mere threat of bug bites. “I went on a camping trip with Ross when we first started going out. The temperature dropped to just above freezing every night. It was the only trip that I never had a bug bite. Usually, they love me.”
Scotland took a slow bite, blatantly staring. “You must be sweet or something.”
Clint straightened his spine before clearing his throat. The meat had made him sleepy, but a little light flirting and he was wide awake. “Or something.”
“Did you guys do a lot of camping?” asked Scotland, snapping a bean between his teeth. “I rarely do, myself. This place is already so close to camping that there really isn’t a need. I don’t need an uncomfortable mattress or to wake up covered in dew just to hear the crickets singing at night.”
