Chapter Eleven #2
“Because that was a part of me that I wasn’t comfortable sharing. That’s, like, something only Lauren knows about. I never wear that stuff around Brody. And don’t get on my case about being too chickenshit, C, please.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, working it between his teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry I gave you grief about it in the past.”
I shrug. “Water under the bridge, I suppose.”
“Not really. You should be allowed to come out in your own time, on your own terms. More than just being gay too. I mean with the crossdressing. If it makes you happy, then don’t ruin a good thing by getting all worked up worrying about what other people think or feeling like you need to divulge that secret. ”
“It does make me very happy. I feel confident in them. I don’t know, like, attractive, I guess.”
“Well, whatever you had on last night did look very good on you, but regardless, you are an attractive man. Dress or no dress.”
I feel my cheeks flame hot. “You probably… shouldn’t say stuff like that,” I croak.
“Why not? It’s true.”
I lick my lips. “Because, Caleb, I still—I…” I trail off, huffing in frustration.
I peer up from my lap to see him arching an inquisitive brow at me. Fucker has to know what’s gotten me all tongue-tied, he just wants to hear me say it out loud. His lips twitch, a hint of amusement on them.
“You’re such a smug little shit,” I tease.
“Say it.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“You still want my dick, don’t you?”
“I never said that,” I squabble, sparing a glance over at Gannett just to make sure that he’s still preoccupied with his captaincy duties.
He is, thankfully.
“You do,” Caleb continues prodding. “You haven’t gotten over me bending you over and stuffing you full of my cock, have you?”
Memories assault me all at once. Christ, we used to fuck like jackrabbits, or Energizer bunnies, or whatever. Every surface we could find, whenever we got a private moment, we defiled it.
It was hot, it was heavy, and it was two of the most memorable summers of my life.
Caleb Wilmot rocked my friggin’ world. Sweat forms on my brow just thinking about this one time—totally illegal, mind you—that we thought we’d break into an abandoned boathouse.
We debauched the absolute shit out of it.
I glower at him, because there’s no need of getting me hard underneath these heavy rubber slickers we’ve got to wear out here on the water.
“I thought you didn’t want to rehash the past…” I remind him.
He shrugs casually. “I just wanted to see what kind of power I still had over you. Looks like I haven’t lost my touch. Even with no voice, my words can still turn you the fuck on.”
Lord, ain’t that the truth. Always did say the man had a silver tongue.
Didn’t matter if he was trying to sweep me off my feet on some outing he’d planned, or if it was when he had me down on my knees, hammering my tonsils with his girthy monstrosity.
Even now, with his damn hands, he’s a fucking smooth talker.
“Jesus H. Christ!” Gannett yells over the engine noise. “I can’t tell if I need to come over there and break up a fight or microwave a bag of popcorn so I can sit back and watch the show! You look like you’re about to play tonsil hockey over there, boys!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head.
I try to think of anything to will away this friggin’ hard-on I’m now sporting, but it’s no use—Caleb’s still standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking as devilish as ever.
Yes, even covered in sweat, grease, and little scraps from the bait bags he rigged up while I cleaned out traps.
Wait, that’s a thought. Suddenly I stand and walk over to the bait bin on my unsteady sea legs. I plant my hands on the edges, lean down over it, and haul in a deep breath. And fucking hell, that is the absolute nastiest shit I have ever smelled.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Gannett cries out. “Dude, what the fuck?!”
I look up at him and sigh. Can’t very well explain that I needed this to rid myself of my boner—which, mission accomplished—so I offer him the only thing I can think of. “I, uh—you know how some people like the smell of gasoline? Uh, this bait is what does it for me…”
In my periphery, I see Caleb’s shoulders start to shake with his silent laughter. It morphs into a full-bodied laugh as he tips his head back and his chest heaves. For the briefest of moments, I find myself missing the sound of his unbridled laughter. It was such a sweet sound.
Gannett snickers. “That’s messed up, even by my standards. To each their own, I guess.” He shrugs.
I glare at Caleb, who is still barely able to contain his silent laughter. I sign to him, “What the hell? I thought we agreed just this morning we were going to keep everything all about Lo?”
His gaze drifts away from me and towards the bow of the boat. Then, he smirks. No response to my question, just that coy smile of his. He simply fucking smirks at himself, and I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what the hell it means.
Gannett invited me and Caleb to go to Portside with him after work, then promptly seemed to forget all about us once we got settled behind the bar.
All it took was for Gordy to start ribbing him about something or other and Gannett’s attention was stolen away.
It does seem an awful lot like he’s got it down bad for Gordy, in my humble opinion.
The way our affable captain’s eyes often linger on the bartender’s muscles, when his back is turned, is anything but subtle.
“Is it just me, or does the boss man seem to have a crush on Gordy?” Caleb signs.
“Definitely not just you. Cap nearly just missed his mouth and almost wound up wearing that shot,” I sign back.
“Do you suppose Gordy even realizes it, or is he just as oblivious to their chemistry?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I have no clue. I can’t even tell if their banter is toxic or hot as fuck.”
Caleb grins. “My vote is that it’s hot.”
I chuckle. “I’m leaning that way myself.”
I will say, being able to converse with someone in a language few understand does have a few perks.
Like, realistically I know that it can’t feel particularly good to know that there’s this huge language gap which can oftentimes leave someone feeling left out, but if there ever were a silver lining, it’s finding someone who can communicate in the same manner and when that happens, you feel like you’ve been inducted into a special space.
You get to gossip about people, right in front of them, and they are none the wiser.
Times like these almost make the language barrier seem less like a hindrance and more like a superpower.
There are voices that steal my attention suddenly. The two women sitting at the high-top table behind Caleb definitely look like tourists. I’ve never seen either of them around town before, and they’re definitely giving “from away” vibes.