Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ATVs were not meant for civilized society, I’m sure of it. But then again, are Caleb and his family civilized? I’m not sure they are.
“You good, man?” Caleb asks, his voice carrying over the awful hum of the machine we’re on. The only good thing about this is that I’m wrapped around him, my thighs pressed against his, my arms wrapped around his waist.
He guides us down the steep hill, and I squeeze my eyes shut, holding my breath. I can’t think about dying.
Not here. Not with him.
It’s almost funny, in a cruel way. I used to romanticize the idea of my own end, imagining how the blood would seep from my veins as I laid my head down one final time. But right now? I don’t want to die.
I want to live.
I clutch him tighter as we bounce over a small mound in the sand.
He revs the engine, and I close my eyes once more, just feeling him against me.
My body tilts backward, and I hold my breath as he guides us up a hill, the tires spinning beneath us, and then suddenly it stops.
“Why are we stopping?” I ask. Caleb peers back at me, his eyes twinkling. I must look like a mess, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He leans a little closer, our lips hovering over each other.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” he asks.
I can’t help but wet my dry lips. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”
“Yeah, you are,” he says softly. “Thought I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not,” I say, but it doesn’t ring true anymore. It seems he absolutely is my type.
I want to lean in and kiss him, to brush my lips against his, but I don’t. I can’t.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, Sem shoots past us, his ATV launching off the ground, back wheels kicking into the air.
The carelessness they have for their own safety is astounding.
“He should wear a helmet,” I mutter, and Caleb laughs.
“Probably. Not wearing one explains a lot, actually,” Caleb says and then asks, “Wanna drive?”
“I think it’s best if you do this.”
“You sayin’ I’m better than you at something?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. His eyes flick to the movement, his pupils dilating.
This goes beyond playful touches or a bi-curious guy exploring his boundaries.
It’s there in his eyes when he looks at me…
“I never thought you were lacking,” I finally say.
He huffs and turns his gaze away, just for a moment, looking almost shy.
“Ready for more?” he asks suddenly, revving the engine.
I sigh, the moment lost, but still tuck myself against him, pulling his back against my chest.
And I endure it, the feel of him against me almost worth the way my brain clatters in my head. When he finally turns the ATV around, and we head back to his aunt and uncle’s, I sigh in relief. He must feel it on his neck because he slows down and shouts over the roar of the engine.
“Ten more minutes, babe. And then we’ll be home.”
The way he says that word. He really should stop calling me that. It’s doing things to my unruly heart.
When we arrive back at the house, he helps me off the ATV, my legs slightly unsteady from the constant vibrations. He guides me upstairs so I can change out of my dusty clothes. But all that happens is he stares at me, his hand on his crotch.
It’s so obvious what he wants. And I’m unable to refuse him.
“Hands on the wall,” I murmur, moving toward him.
When he doesn’t move fast enough, I spin him around and force him to face away from me. I told myself this needs to end, but one more time couldn’t hurt.
I’ll etch the feel of him into my memory. And pull it out on those lonely nights.
I press against his back and undo his pants, pulling his cock out and listening to him groan.
“Whit,” he moans as I hold him, fucking his cock with my fist. He’s pulsing, warm, completely responsive. What would it be like to fuck that perfect ass? Would he whine the way he is now? Would he shake and tremble in my arms?
“Whit. Oh fuck!”
His body arches up, and he spills his release onto the floor.
Always such a mess, yet somehow, beautiful every time.
Thankfully, he cleans it up while I change in the bathroom, rubbing one out for my mental health.
And then we spend the rest of the day outside, sitting around a campfire, Caleb’s legs propped up on mine, my fingers curled around his ankle.
Is this what having a family is like? Is this how it should feel?
I’m envious of what he has.
Liam’s wife makes an unexpected appearance, her clothes splattered with paint, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. Her eyes find mine almost immediately, and she smiles softly at me, almost like she knows what it’s like the first time meeting the family.
She’s pulled into long hugs from her brothers-in-law before she’s able to make it over to us. Caleb hops up, lifts her off her feet, and twirls her around, her laugh ringing out around us.
When he finally sets her down, she glances at me.
“Hey, Whit.” She smiles. “I guess they told you about me.” She glances down at her paint-spattered shirt. “I get a little obsessive with my art projects.”
“They did.”
She glances over at Caleb, who props his legs back up on mine and leans back, sipping at his beer.
“Well,” she says, leaning in, “it’s safe to say I heard all about Caleb’s new boyfriend.”
My cheeks heat, and I nod. “Apparently, we’re all the rage.”
“You are. This was…unexpected, but”—her eyes take me in—“he seems to really like you.”
“It does seem that way,” I murmur, and she grins.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Not that long.”
Caleb leans forward and interrupts, “He just couldn’t stay away.”
I stare at him, and he chuckles, leaning back and lifting his shirt slightly, showing off his abs. Those were a tipping point, I must admit.
“He’s not my type,” I say, and Caleb rolls his eyes.
“I sure am.”
Anne winks at me and then stands up, moving toward her husband, who is holding on to a flaming stick. He’s waving it around like it’s some kind of sword, and I seriously worry for his safety. But my attention is pulled to Sem and Luke, who linger over me, holding the keys to my car.
“Can we?” Luke asks, bouncing on his toes.
I sigh and nod. I can’t say no, not when they look at me like that. It seems I’ve become a sucker for large, unruly men in my old age.
“Just don’t crash it, please.”
The corner of Sem’s mouth quirks up. “Can’t promise much.”
“They’ll be careful,” Caleb reassures me, inching closer, his eyes meeting mine.
“We’ll see,” I say just as Sem and Luke hop into my car. The tires spin as they speed out of the driveway, and I close my eyes. If they do crash it, I don’t want to witness it. Plausible deniability.
Lucky for me, they don’t, and it’s returned to me in one piece, just a little dustier than normal.
And the way Caleb is looking at me, his eyes soft, his body nearly draped over mine…it was worth it.
When it’s finally time to leave, I wish I had a little more time with these people. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. It was different in the best way.
Caleb must feel the same way because he’s grumpily shoving things into his plastic bag.
“This wasn’t too painful?” he asks me, peering over at me while I zip up my suitcase.
“No. It was nice.”
He rubs at his stomach and then stares at me longingly. It’s making my skin prickle and itch.
“You going to be weird when we get home?” he asks as I grab my suitcase and move toward the bedroom door.
“Nothing needs to be weird about this.”
And it doesn’t. We can go back to the way things were before he got sick, the two of us coexisting together like platonic roommates.
But the closer we get to campus, the quieter he gets. He doesn’t touch me either, and I find that I dislike that very much. Not that I bring it up. It’s better this way. It really is. But eventually, the silence pulls at me until I can’t hold it in anymore, and I finally break.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Who says something’s wrong?”
“You’re not talking or fiddling with the music or…” My voice trails off.
“Or what?” he asks.
“Touching me,” I finally say.
He scoffs, and his head falls against the headrest.
“Just trying to give you a break,” he says, and my fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
“Who said I wanted a break?” I ask.
“Just never sure how you feel. You’re not exactly easy to read, and you never open up.”
I can’t help it when my hand falls, palm up, on the center console. Waiting. Begging in my own way.
“Want me to hold your hand, Whit?”
I start to move it away, but he quickly wraps his hand around mine.
I glance at it, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth.
“So, Whit,” he says, his thumb rubbing along the back of my hand, “since you’re trying to be more open with me, tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
When I don’t answer quickly enough, he adds, “And really, that could be anything because I know next to nothing about you.”
“What would you like to know, Caleb?”
He shifts in his seat and drags his hand down his crotch.
He has to be hard. He has to be.
“Alright, how old are you?” he asks.
“Twenty-two, you?”
“I’m twenty-one.”
“Middle name?”
“Stafford.”
“Really, you sound so distinguished. Mine’s Carter.”
“Caleb Carter,” I say softly, and he wiggles in his seat again.
“Could you refrain from saying my name until we get home?” he says on a groan.
My eyes glance at his hard dick straining through his pants. “I’ll try.”
“Okay,” he adds. “Um, tell me where you grew up.”
“Romania for the first five years and then moved to New York. You?”
“Grew up right here, my whole life.”
“Have you ever traveled?” I ask.
“Nah, but I’d like to visit all fifty states one day, you know? Maybe travel overseas.”
“Bet you’re well-traveled,” Caleb says, and I shrug.
He has no idea how lonely I was traveling with shitty parents who didn’t care about me, who didn’t want me.
Sometimes it felt like I was carrying all that emptiness across the vast ocean alone, only to drown in it. The weight of it, the responsibility…
“I have traveled, but most of it wasn’t for leisure.”
“That so?” he asks.