Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“What are we doing today?” I ask as I step onto the faded porch next to Caleb.
We ate breakfast just minutes ago—a hearty meal of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns.
I may have watched Caleb shovel food into his mouth like a sexy orc, all while wondering if I could stuff my cock between those lips, too.
It made my pants unbearably tight.
Doesn’t help that he’s wearing a torn shirt, jeans, and another hat. This time it’s facing forward. It’s just as detrimental as when he puts it on backward.
The grungy style is doing things for me.
Who knew I had a thing for men like him?
I desperately try not to look at him.
It’s hard not to when I know what he looks like falling apart.
Caleb scratches his stomach and then peers over at me.
“You’ll see,” he says with a grin and then hops down the stairs toward his three cousins. I’m left to follow.
And that’s when I realize what’s happening.
The thing in the yard I figured was some kind of weird art installation is actually something Caleb expects me to get into.
“Are you serious?” I ask, and Caleb bounces on his toes, his lips curling up in a smile.
“Yep.”
“And you’re driving?”
“Yep.”
“There are no doors.”
“Nope.”
“And no roof.”
“Nope. Say hello to Betsy.” He pats the monstrosity tenderly. “Betsy, this is Whit.”
“You’ve named it?”
“Yep.”
He steps toward me, ushering me inside. I go unwillingly, wincing when I notice the dirt and dust on the torn passenger seat.
“Stop checking him out and let’s go,” Liam shouts, and my cheeks flame as I glance down at Caleb.
He peers up at me, and I see his eyes drift to my hands for just a moment.
My cock jerks in my pants, and I turn my gaze away.
Not out here. Not where his cousins could see us. Wait, no. I need to tell myself I won’t be doing any of that again.
I sigh internally. The sad truth is, I probably will.
Those eyes. Those abs.
That fucking face.
Caleb jogs around to the driver’s seat and hauls himself up. I click my seatbelt in and turn my gaze toward him.
“This is not what I thought I’d be doing on my Saturday morning.”
He turns his eyes on me, and heat flashes through them.
“Wish you were still jerking me off instead?” he says with a smirk.
I feel my cheeks flame again, and I nervously tap a beat against my thighs. “I think getting into this truck with you was a bad idea.”
Honestly, being near him at all is turning my life inside out.
But I’m loath to stop.
He flips his hat backward and turns the key in the ignition. Oh god. Not the hat.
The beast roars to life. I grab onto the bar in front of me as he fists the stick shift.
My throat clicks loudly as he smiles at me.
“Oh, Whit, you have no idea what you’re about to experience.”
He revs the engine loudly and then peels out of the gravel driveway, dust and rocks spitting from the spinning tires.
My eyes close as my breath constricts in my lungs, and then we bounce forward, and my eyelids shoot open.
“Why are we going off the road?” I ask as I watch him drive straight over some bushes.
That can’t be environmentally friendly and is probably illegal. Those could be protected plants.
Mud kicks up and lands on my pant legs, and I stare at them in shock.
This is a horror show.
“It’s called off-roading, babe. Well, technically…
” he says as we bounce over a small hill and splash into another muddy puddle.
I glance down at it and then over at him, my teeth rattling in my skull.
“It’s called mudding.” He revs the engine again, lurching us forward.
I curse under my breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the truck engines.
And as he drives us into the distance, the desert landscape sprawling before us, mud and rocks flying up and landing on my clean clothes, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake.
I feel like I’ve been to war. My head throbs, my shoulders ache, and I’m pretty sure my teeth are coming loose. But worse than all that, I’m covered in mud.
I don’t know how Caleb managed it, but he drove us straight through a puddle the size of a small lake, aiming Betsy so only my side took the hit. Now I’m drenched in muddy sludge, my skin caked in god knows what. It’s dripping from my neckline to my boots, while he sits there, looking far too hot.
I, however, look like some kind of swamp monster.
It’s not a good look, I can assure you.
“You did good for your first time,” Liam says, slapping me roughly on the shoulder and jarring me once more. “Wouldn’t have guessed you were a virgin.”
I flick my hands toward the ground, and mud slaps onto it.
Absolutely filthy. It’s horrifying the state I’m in. I’ve never in my life been allowed to appear this way.
If my father could see me now, he’d skin me alive.
Caleb doesn’t seem to mind though, because he leans over and pulls me into him, my mud-smeared side smashing into his.
I try to glower at him, but it’s hard to be angry when he looks so hot with a bit of dirt smeared across his cheek and his ball cap sitting sideways on his head.
It’s very unfair of him.
“Laugh all you want,” I grumble.
“I will,” he says as he reaches over and plucks at my muddy shirt. It squelches as it’s pulled from my skin like a suction cup peeling off a windowpane. “But let me tell you a secret. You look good messy,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against a smear of mud lingering on my cheek.
I lean into him a moment and then slap his hand away.
I won’t let him sweet-talk me right now. I want to get out of this muddy outfit and scrub myself clean.
“I am going to kill you in your sleep,” I murmur as I hold my sopping shirt away from my skin.
His smile is slightly crooked this time. “Nah, then who would cuddle with you, huh?”
“I have my pick,” I murmur, knowing that’s not true. I mean, it is. I could have my pick, but do I want anyone else at the moment?
No. No, I don’t.
I want the man who drove me through a muddy lake and delivered me back home looking like some kind of deranged mud sculpture.
“Let’s go shower,” Caleb says. “Bet you’re crawling out of your skin like this.”
“You have no idea,” I reply.
He leads me to the back of the house, and I hear Aunt Del shout that our clothes need to come off before coming inside. That’s completely reasonable. I get it. Our clothes are filthy.
I got the worst of it, though. And part of me wonders if that was on purpose.
Do they do this to every mudding-virgin who shows up at their house, or am I their first?
My eyes move toward Sem and Luke, who are peeling their clothes off, and I know I won’t be able to follow suit.
My body stays where it is, my eyes following their easy movements as they strip themselves nearly bare.
Panic starts to well up, sharp and sudden, threatening to spill over.
Oh fuck. Do they expect me to do this here, too? I can’t. There has to be another way.
“Come on, man,” Caleb says, peeling his shirt off. “Clothes off.”
I shake my head, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. Caleb’s never seen me without a shirt or pants. He doesn’t know. Doing so would mean I’d have to explain, would have to open up.
Now is not the time.
Not here.
I glance around, wondering if I could hide behind something to strip down, but I see nothing. Nothing that would shield me from their eyes.
“I—no, I…”
He tilts his head and stares at me. My cheeks burn from the intensity of his gaze.
“Why not?” he asks as Liam, Sem, and Luke go crashing through the door, wearing only their boxers as they fight over who gets to shower first. Their voices fade into the background as Caleb steps closer.
“I…please just get me a towel,” I murmur, desperation lining my words. I don’t want to give him more than that, more of me.
I already feel stretched thin.
He’s done things to me over the past few weeks, things that have turned me inside out. I feel like I’m coming undone at the seams.
His eyebrows meet as he watches me, clearly confused, but thankfully, he just nods and disappears inside the house, returning with a large, worn beach towel.
“You going to tell me what the deal is?” he asks. “You got issues with your body? ’Cause from what I can tell, it’s nice.”
He has no fucking idea. I clutch the towel tighter around me. “Please leave, Caleb.”
His shoulders sag, his chest deflating. I did this to him. I know it, and yet I can’t bring myself to tell him why.
“Yeah. Okay, man. I’ll go shower.”
His absence doesn’t make me feel any better, but I’m left to strip in peace, the shadows hiding me from anyone’s wayward gaze. Not that they’re looking, but if they were, they wouldn’t be able to see what I need to hide.
When I finally step inside, I toss my clothes into the laundry basket and quickly slip upstairs. No one pays me any attention, their focus on other things.
I came to that realization far too late in life. No one really cares what you do, what you say, or what you wear.
But he does.
All my life, I could never escape my father’s need for control. His fingers wrapped around my fragile life, shaping my every move, forcing me to twist and twirl as he pleased—like a dancing puppet.
His puppet.
My feet grow cold on the wood floor as I wait for Caleb to exit the bathroom, my fingers clutching the towel wrapped around my shoulders like a lifeline, my clean clothes tucked in my arms as I wait.
Minutes tick by, my skin growing tight, my body prickling with awareness. And when Caleb is finally done, he steps out, steam billowing around him. Like some kind of porn.
My porn.
He nods toward the bathroom door.
“All yours,” he says, and I just push past him and lock the door, needing a minute to breathe without him watching me, without him being so close and waiting for me to reveal myself to him.
I can’t let that happen. I really can’t.
I quickly turn the water on and step under the spray. My eyes close, not looking down. Not looking at myself. I don’t need to. I know what’s there.
I know what I’ll see.