Chapter Eleven
A FOREST HIDEAWAY
or
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
I COULD BARELY concentrate for the rest of the day. I went through the motions, all the while my head full of feelings and my body a tightrope of desire.
During supper I stayed away from Puck, and he didn’t approach me. I was scared to even look his way since I’d been told by two different people our affection for each other was obvious. I made polite conversation with Adam and Lorraine and asked Kamal a few general questions about pony training.
By the time darkness fell, the main house had grown quiet. I went upstairs and lay on my bed, listening to music on my phone and trying to quell my growing excitement. I kept checking the clock.
At ten thirty I pulled the buds from my ears and listened intently to the expansive quiet of the house outside my door. I heard laughter in the distance, and a door shut somewhere. Then there was nothing.
At ten forty-five, I put my phone and earbuds on the bedside table, grabbed the flashlight from its spot on my dresser, and eased my door open. I peeked my head out to make sure the coast was clear.
It was now or never. And never was not an option.
I stepped into the hall and closed the door behind me, locking it as softly as I could and making my way along to the stairs, then heading to the main level.
Only the emergency lights were on, giving the place an eerie glow.
I managed to make it out the back door with only one squeak of my shoe on the polished floor.
Once on the porch, after I’d shut the door, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I checked my bearings to see if anyone else was outside.
The coast was clear, so I descended onto the grass and walked in the direction of the bunkhouse.
I didn’t turn on my flashlight until I was a good way along the path, so nobody at the main house would see a bouncing light and wonder.
I sincerely hoped the guys in the bunkhouse were too busy to pay attention to anything but hijinks and whatever else a group of horny young men might get up to at this time of night.
Part of me was envious that they all got to hang out together in a very cool bunking arrangement.
But I probably wouldn’t have dealt very well with having to hide my affection for Puck in such close confines, and where he might be—and probably was—approached frequently by other men.
If what Lincoln had said was true, and they all knew there was something going on between me and Puck, I hoped it would keep them from approaching him. But I couldn’t hope for miracles.
The bunkhouse loomed ahead of me.
I kept my flashlight pointed at the ground so I could see my way but not betray my arrival.
As I got close enough that the circle of its light touched the step below the door, I heard a cough.
I aimed the beam of the flashlight in that direction, and it landed on a pair of bubble-gum pink Doc Marten’s with rainbow laces.
Puck.
The pretty boots started to move toward me as I followed the illumination along the long line of his jeans-clad legs, past the hem of his snug T-shirt, over the Spiderman Logo, up his neck and chin to his sweet smile and glinting, excited eyes, squinting in the bright light.
“You found me,” he said.
By now he was right in front of me. I lowered the flashlight so I could bathe in his proximity. I could still see his face, although not clearly in the darkness. But it didn’t matter, because in a moment, his lips found mine and caught me up in a surge of heat and desire.
His fingers gently pried the flashlight from my hand.
When he pulled away, he drifted the beam over me from head to foot and made a satisfied sound. “Hell, yes. So hot. Follow me.”
I’d worn a pair of ripped jeans, canvas runners, and a faded grey T-shirt with a black-checked button-down open over it to ward off the evening chill. Trying to look younger and maybe not so professional.
Puck reached out and took my hand. I loved the way he took me in hand and put me where I was wanted, as much as I liked the way he gave himself over to me when we got where we were going. I would go just about anywhere with this compelling and confusing young man.
Now we moved through dense brush to the songs of crickets and night birds.
I wondered if he had a destination in mind and if there would be anything more than a rocky space on the ground to get up to what we so obviously wanted to do with each other.
I held my tongue and trusted that he’d get us where we needed to be.
I watched the beam of the flashlight he held—my flashlight—bob ahead of us. It was spooky, to be honest, and I clutched his hand as if letting go would mean disaster. I cried out when a sudden fluttering of wings and the cry of a small animal sounded nearby.
Puck laughed. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” I said, affecting nonchalance, although he could probably feel the clammy sweat on my palm.
“You’re trembling,” he said.
“How do you know that’s not just anticipation?”
“I don’t. Anyway, we’re here. It’s not much but there are four walls and a roof.”
The light of his flashlight fell on the scruffy wood walls of a diminutive shack at the end of the very-much-not-really-a-trail we were on.
“Okay. Well, then.”
Were there spiders in there? There would probably be spiders. I coughed.
Puck aimed the flashlight on my face. “Oh, come on. You’re not worried about a little dirt, are you, Oliver?”
“Of course not.”
He looked me up and down. “Oh, good. Because by the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be an absolute mess.”
Suddenly I didn’t care about spiders. That is, I cared about them a lot less.
“Okay. Fuck.”
He grinned. “Come on.”
I followed him to a rickety door that opened with a creak when he pushed on it.
“There’s no lock?”
“Who the hell’s gonna find us out here?”
We stepped inside, onto wood floorboards that complained immediately.
“Nobody else knows about this place?”
“Well…” Puck shook his head. “Adam was the one who mentioned it. He told me how to find it.”
That stopped me short. “Did you tell him what—”
Puck pulled me further into the dank, dark room.
“Yes, exactly. I asked him if he knew of any place I could fuck the shit out of you in private and not under the stars, which was my second choice, honestly.”
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding. He shone the flashlight under his chin, which made him look a little bit scary.
“I didn’t say it in those exact words. And I didn’t reference you at all. I just asked if there was anywhere a ponyboy could go to get his dick sucked other than the crowded bunkhouse or the lake.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stayed still, not eager to encounter any webs in the darkness.
“Okay. Wow. This place…isn’t half bad.” I tried to sound optimistic.
“Hold on a second. There’s a lantern.”
Puck’s shoes scuffed against the floorboards as he moved forward.
“Wait, have you already been here?”
Puck laughed. He turned and moved, pressing the length of his body against me, and angled the flashlight away. “No, Oliver. I’m only a slut for you, apparently.”
And all I could smell was Puck. All I could feel was Puck. I wrapped my hands around his biceps, keeping him with me, feeling safe when I was near him.
“That makes me happy,” I said, sucking on his neck, nuzzling against him. I just wanted to kiss every part of him. He smelled so good.
“I like to make you happy.”
I chuckled. “Maybe we should light that lantern. If I’m honest I’m a little scared of spiders.”
“I see,” Puck said, “Well, luckily, I’m not.”
I laughed as he pulled away. I watched the beam of his flashlight bob around the small space.
“Aha,” he said. More scuffling and then a soft yellow glow flooded the space, bringing immediate relief and a cozy ambience.
“Oh, thank God,” I muttered.
He handed the flashlight back to me and I swung the beam back over the floor.
“Is that a mattress?”
I shone my flashlight on the stained and dusty old mattress spanning half the floor.
“Only the best for you, Oliver. There’s a ratty old loveseat too.”
“Holy shit. That looks like it’s about a hundred years old. The mattress too.”
“I brought some clean blankets from the bunkhouse.”
“Yay?”
He laughed. “Oh, come on. We’re at a fucking ranch, Oliver, not the Four Seasons. Suck it up.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh. You’re going to say that to me, are you? Clean mattress or dirty, I fully plan to…suck…it…up.”
I gazed about me, trying not to worry too much about creepy-crawlies and focus on what we’d come here for. The beam of the flashlight landed on a bit of rope coiled in the corner.
“Hmm,” I said.
“What?”
“There’s some rope here,” I said.
“Probably full of spiders,” Puck commented.
“Oh fuck. You’re right. Goddammit.”
Puck lifted his backpack with a grin. “Good thing I brought some, then.”
I blinked. “You brought rope? You brought your own bondage rope?”
“No, Oliver. I just brought rope. Why is it automatically going to be used on me?”
I closed my eyes, the desire inside me brimming over.
“Because,” I said, lips suddenly dry. “Because it’s all I’ve been dreaming about. But if you’re not into it…”
“Oliver, I brought the fucking rope.”
Had he packed it in his suitcase? Had he anticipated he might have the opportunity for some bondage fun outside of the stables? Or had he gotten it from Kamal? Something told me I didn’t want to know.
Once we had covered the stained surface of the mattress with the soft blankets, the shed felt more civilized and more conducive to a night of unbridled lust. Puck tossed a bundle of black bondage rope onto the mattress. “There you go. Whatever will you do with that, Oliver?”
I let a smile steal over my features. I loved playful Puck. I leaned down and picked up the rope, smoothing it between my fingers and thumbs and regarding Puck contemplatively.
“I won’t be able to decide until you’re naked.”