2. Ambrose
AMbrOSE
I navigated through the woods until I came to the spot where I’d left my motorcycle. I hopped on and rode full out until I reached my home in the bayou. I didn’t tell our family boss, Remington, that I was leaving. I didn’t call Dax. I just disappeared.
My family wouldn’t question it, not from me.
Eric would have a lot of questions, but I had no intention of answering them.
Hopefully, he’d never call in the favor I’d promised.
I should’ve told him I didn’t owe him a damn thing, but he had a point, and I always paid my debts.
He’d agreed to help us, and I’d lied to him.
That shouldn’t matter to me. He was fucking law enforcement, which made him my enemy, but there was something about the bastard I liked, something I liked too much.
And he was… hot. That was just an observation, though.
I didn’t… I was way too old to be having a crisis about my sexuality.
I’d watched my brother and my cousins come to terms with the fact that they liked men over the years, but I’d never felt anything but friendship for the men I’d spent time with.
Of course I’d noticed some guys were hot.
Who wouldn’t? Anybody could objectively assess attractiveness like that, couldn’t they?
I’d admired men for their strength, for their character, but I never wanted to grab a guy, shake him, then kiss the fuck out of him. That was exactly what I wanted to do with Eric.
When I’d secured my bike, I yanked open the screen door of my cabin and let it slam behind me. I needed to get drunk, really goddamn drunk. Between my disturbing feelings about Eric and the way his questions had dragged me back into the past…
I gripped the counter. No. No. No. Why did just the suggestion of those memories threaten me after so much time?
I pushed the mental images away. I could ground myself in reality more easily when I was here, alone, in a space that was familiar to me.
What I couldn’t quite get out of my head was the image of me jabbing a knife up into Eric’s heart the way I had with… No. I couldn’t think about that man. I couldn’t ever think about him again.
If I did, I might retreat so far into myself that I would never leave the hell of my memories.
That wouldn’t only hurt me, it would hurt Dax almost as badly.
I’d already given him so much grief by pulling away from him—away from our family—and refusing to tell him the whole story.
But I couldn’t talk about it. I’d never told anyone, and I doubted I ever would.
When the gruesome images in my head had faded enough that I could walk without stumbling, I opened the mini fridge that ran off a generator. I pulled out a mason jar full of moonshine, unscrewed the top, and gulped down a huge swallow.
The liquor burned its way to my stomach. I needed the pain to take me out of my head and make me focus on my body.
I took another swig, then sat down on the couch and let my head drop back, making it easier to pour more and more of the fiery moonshine down my throat. I’d built up a hell of a tolerance over the years, but by the time the jar was nearly empty, I was finally buzzing the way I wanted to.
I grabbed my laptop from the chest that served as a coffee table and opened it up.
Thinking of Eric had my body all confused.
Maybe it had just been too long. I’d watch some porn, get myself off, and then maybe…
maybe I could sleep. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been awake, but I was sure it was far longer than anyone should be.
After hitting Play on one of my favorite scenes, I tugged my zipper down and pulled out my dick.
I watched as a beautiful woman with long dark hair climbed onto a stocky man’s dick.
She rode him roughly as he toyed with her tits.
I stroked myself, working my hand slowly up and down, not needing to hurry.
She eased herself off him and moved to take his dick into her mouth. When the camera zoomed in close on her face, I noticed her blue eyes. They were the exact same color as Eric’s.
Fuck. What if it was Eric with his mouth around that cock? I growled, hating that image. My cock was the only one I wanted to imagine Eric sucking.
The girl on the screen swallowed the man down to the root.
I closed my eyes and saw Eric doing the same to me.
What the fuck? Why was I thinking about this?
I’d never wanted a man to suck me off before, not even on long deployments.
When many of the men turned to each other just for the chance to get off, I never did.
I wanted more than just a mouth or a hand.
I wanted to feel a connection, not that I would ever have admitted that to any of the men in my unit.
I opened my eyes and looked at the screen again, but I couldn’t stop thinking of Eric. I jabbed at the keyboard, stopping the video, then slammed my laptop shut.
My sudden movements made the world spin. I reached for the jar and drained the last of the moonshine, but the liquor did nothing to clear Eric from my head. He was there behind my eyes, taunting me.
I lay back against the couch, and the room swirled around me. I tried closing my eyes but that only made the spinning worse. My pants were still open, and my dick was out and begging for attention.
Fuck. Maybe if I finished this, the Eric in my head would leave me alone.
I was drunk enough that in that moment, I truly believed Eric was sending me these images.
He was forcing this desire on me. I wanted to fight him.
I wanted to push him away, but I also wanted him right there, his hands on me, his mouth on my cock.
I licked my palm and wrapped my hand around my dick, working myself up and down, keeping my grip tight almost to the point of pain. I lifted my hips, thrusting into my tight grip, pretending it was Eric’s mouth, imagining I was holding him there, forcing him to take me all the way down his throat.
Fuck, I was close, so close. I would have sworn I could actually feel his hot, tight throat and hear him choking around me. Had that bastard put a fucking spell on me? Was I going to need someone to exorcise him from my mind? My hand moved faster and faster.
I used my other hand to give my balls a firm tug. Heat sizzled along my spine. I gasped as the force of my climax shook me. When I was drained dry, I slumped over so I was half lying on the couch. Somehow, I found the strength to lift my legs onto the cushions before I passed out.
I woke to the usual sounds of morning in the bayou. The shrill call of a woodpecker felt like it was drilling into my brain. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached for the covers, intending to pull them over my head. That was when I realized I was on the couch.
What the hell?
It took several moments and a few failed attempts to sit up to remember how I’d gotten there.
Moving very slowly, I turned my head to see if the moonshine jar was completely empty. As I tried to roll over, my legs caught in my pants, which I must have removed as I slept, and I fell to the floor.
I lay there for several moments with my head pounding. I was filthy. I needed a shower, and despite the protests of my stomach, I knew I’d feel better with coffee and food in me.
I managed to get to my feet and shuck my remaining clothes.
The cold water in my outdoor shower helped wake me up.
Once I was more aware of the world around me, I started thinking about Eric, not just thoughts of him there in the shower, on his knees, giving me the best blow job of my life, but thoughts of hanging out with him, of being friends, of connecting.
What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t need anyone in my life.
Are you so sure about that?
I had been until I’d met him.
Goddamn it. I didn’t want anything messing up my life.
I didn’t want to need people, certainly not Eric.
I didn’t even like him. He was a fucking insufferable do-gooder cop.
But now, after spending time with Eric and Dax, instead of loving the life I’d made for myself in the bayou, I felt lonely.
For the first time ever, I felt unsettled there in my sanctuary. It fucking sucked.
What the hell was it about Eric that made me interested in seeking out a relationship I never knew I wanted, one that would involve talking, and leaving the cabin, and feeling… something. I didn’t want to feel anything. It was easier when I didn’t.
Dax had pulled me out of my shell, so it was partly his fault too, but I would always be there for him.
He was my brother. I could tolerate him and even the rest of the family for a short time, but I’d been away from home for days.
I should be craving my solitude, not wishing I was with some blue-eyed fucking sheriff who made me crazy.
Dax was going to love it if he ever found out.
He was going to think I’d been holding out on him, but I hadn’t.
I only felt this way about Eric. Goddamn him.
Maybe this was punishment for what I’d done in the past.
I pushed back from the wall, grabbed the soap, and angrily rubbed it between my hands. I washed myself roughly like I could wash away the desire for Eric and all the needs I had for connection. I was a monster, and I was better off alone.