Twenty-nine
Logan
The ice is finally melting. We’ve been stuck inside only four days, and it was hard to leave the bed this morning when I had half his body shoved inside my hoodie so he could be closer and keep touching me while I slept.
He didn’t like when I told him I had to do another store run.
I need more ointment for his burn. It’s a deep, nasty, angry color, and him scratching around it isn’t helping any.
I was going to unhook his ankle from the bedpost and lock the door from the outside, since I switched the door knob around the night before after he fell asleep.
He wouldn’t let me, swinging his arms and thinking it was me practicing for when I’d let him go.
It was crushing me. He needs to be wanted so badly.
He’ll even accept it from someone who stole him away from his life and his dream job.
He wants me to want to keep him, and I do.
I don’t want to tell him, though, because it’ll only make it harder when I let him go.
I left the cuff on his ankle, running my fingers through his wavy blond hair, and he hummed when I kissed the center of his forehead, practically melting where he was.
He wasn’t the only reason it took me so long to walk out the front door.
My shoes were weighed down like they were filled with lead as I walked to my car.
Now I’m sitting here, looking back at the house and barn, thinking about how upset he’ll get again when I have to take him back there.
My mom said she’s stopping by to get more of her things this weekend and I can’t have him in her room when she does.
It’s official. She’s moving to my aunt’s but won’t tell my dad because she’s worried he’ll try to take the house from me.
He won’t take it from her, but wouldn’t blink an eye if it came to leaving me homeless and on the street.
I squeeze the wheel tight with one hand and pull the mask off my face as I drive onto the road.
I still don’t know how I’ll release Blake.
I could drop him off with his car in a place I know someone can find him.
I could leave him near the lake his friends sometimes threw bonfires at.
It’ll come to me. I have time. Once my mom’s gone, I’ll have plenty of time.
I arrive at one of my favorite taquarias fifteen minutes later, getting out of the car almost as soon as it’s in park. I reach one of the kiosks after rushing inside away from the cold air, lifting my hood over my head. I place my order, and as I’m waiting, the door dings behind me.
“Oh, look who it is. Loser Logan.”
Hayden is smiling big when I look back at him, and I grit my teeth. “What do you want, Hayden?”
“Nothing from you. Just here to order breakfast so I can enjoy it in bed with your dad,” he says smugly, and my breaths cut at my throat.
“Good for you. Hope you two enjoy each other. Just the trash taking out the trash for me.”
His face hardens and I duck out of the way when he swings his fist at me. “Oh, look who’s learned some new moves from the academy. I hope you don’t think that makes you better than me.”
“I don’t think, asshole.” I spit at him. “I know.”
He cocks his head, running a hand across his jaw. “You know, that’s a nice car you have out there. Not as nice as mommy’s, though. It’s under your dad’s name, right? You think if I beg enough, he’ll make sure it goes to me in the divorce.”
I swing my arm this time, undercutting him in the jaw, and he crashes back onto the floor.
The manager steps from behind the counter with his face beet red.
Someone hands him my order and he shoves it into my chest. “Look, Logan, I think it’s best you take your food and get out of here now.
I don’t want any trouble and you’re too good a kid to be mixing yourself up with people like him. ”
“Fuck you, Carlos. You know I could have you shut the fuck down within days,” Hayden says.
“Yeah. I’m done with your threats. Get the hell out of my restaurant.
You’re not welcome here anymore.” Carlos stands between us and I walk around a kneeling Hayden and hurry to my car with my food tucked under my arm.
I get in my car and as I’m backing away, Hayden charges at me, leaning over my hood and slamming his hands over the top.
My tires scrape the asphalt and I haul ass out of the parking lot, doing a double take when he turns to my dad’s truck, slipping into the driver’s side spitting blood out the partially rolled down window.
I look between him and the truckbed. Does he drive that often?
An idea strikes in my head, and if this isn’t the last time he plans to take my dad’s truck out for a joyride, then I think I know exactly how and where I’ll let my little piglet go.
Following Hayden and my dad around for a few days might tell me exactly when to do it.
Guys like Hayden like going to the same places over and over.
They have their favorite days to go to them too.
He wants to try and threaten me? I don’t think the fucker has suffered enough consequences for all his actions yet. If he wants to keep doubling down, then so will I.
Blake is reading his Kindle with headphones in his ears. Is . . . is he listening to my old Walkman? He nods his head to the beat of whatever song he’s jamming to and mumbles as he swipes his finger across the screen to change the book page.
His eyes lift and he sets the Kindle down and yanks off the headphones, sitting taller. “You’re back.”
“I am.”
“What’s that smell?” He sniffs the air.
“Tacos.” I lift the plastic bag, my feet inching closer to him.
“Mmm. Tacos sound perfect. What kind did you get?” He sets everything from his hands and lap on the nightstand before scooting forward. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. It’s just nice to take a break from four days of soup.”
“Tired of soup already?”
“Yeah. As delicious as it was, there’s only so many days you can reheat egg noodles with them still tasting good.” His nose lifts and he sticks his tongue half out.
I laugh. “I guess I’ll have to think of something else for dinner.”
He rolls his eyes. “You better.”
Another laugh escapes me and I set up two fold-out trays I found in the basement, setting one in front of him with mine around two feet away. He scoots in closer to his when he takes notice of how far away I am. I smile and keep my arm pressed to his as we both eat our tacos.
“Carne asada is my favorite. What did you get?”
“Potato and egg.”
He folds his other leg in, lifting one eye at me. “You’re getting food all over my favorite mask. That means I’ll have to wear the black or purple one.”
“It won’t take long to wash.” I stop mid chew and then swallow, looking at him. “Speaking of getting clean. I need to change the bedding. Want me to run you a bath so you can get cleaned up while I do?”
He lowers his food to his plate. “You aren’t going to wash me?”
“I think I can trust you to wash yourself and not do anything you’re not supposed to.”
He sucks on his bottom lip. “You can but . . .”
“But what, sweet boy?”
He swallows hard, moving from side to side. “Eating is taking a lot out of me, and my hands are already feeling so tired.”
“So you need me to help you?” I swipe sauce from the corner of his mouth.
“Please. You wash me better than I do myself. I don’t feel as clean with regular baths either. I need you . . .” He bites at the corner of his mouth. “I need you to do that technique you do to ensure I’m clean enough.”
My lips curl and my fingers trail down his neck, not stopping until I’m stroking over the barbell in his hardening nipple. “I can change the bed as the tub fills, then, and you can sit on the ottoman for a while.”
“Without the cuff?” He looks horrified at the possible suggestion.
“No. I can find somewhere to chain it to.”
His face relaxes. “Okay.”
“Maybe you can tell me what you were listening to while I’m in the bathroom getting the bath ready.”
“It’s a really good mixed tape.”
“I don’t remember which one was in there.”
“Said ‘music louder than my dad’ on the front.”
I tip my head. “Ahh. Yeah, that was a long time ago.” Why is my Walkman in my mom’s junk drawer? I told her to toss it out. I hated looking at anything that reminded me of high school. She wasn’t very good at letting things go and still has a box of my old trolls somewhere too.
“How long?”
“That’s not important.” I face my food again and sip my water. He’s fishing for my exact age again. He almost got me a few times too.
“People don’t use Walkmans and tapes anymore. Not since the early two thousands. You have to be older than me.”
Or I could have enjoyed collecting things from that time period. My CD player, Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis, and VCR would back that up too. “I told you I was.”
“How many mix tapes do you have?”
We go on to talk about random things and he doesn’t stay on the same subject for long.
The guy’s got total squirrel brain, and I’m enjoying all the topics we land on.
We finish our food and I walk him to the chair after scooting a small side table next to it with metal legs and side bars.
I hook the other cuff to one of them, and he flattens his feet on the floor, wiggling his toes.
After setting a small blanket on his lap, I change the bedding.
Once I toss the dirty linens in the laundry room, I run the bathtub water and we talk about his favorite songs on the tape he listened to.
We talk about our favorite bands and genres, somehow switching over to horror movies. That puts him in the mood to watch a slasher later, and as I’m helping him into the tub, he goes through a long list of different options.
“Evil Dead Rising is a good one.”
“Yeah, I only saw the first half and enjoyed it enough to want to see the rest.”
“We can watch it later, then.”
“After this?” He splashes his hands in the water, parting the bubbles.
I tap my fingers on the edge of the tub. “After dinner.”
“You mean the dinner that isn’t going to be chicken noodle soup, right?”
“Right.” I grin and grab the wash cloth behind him.
I don’t focus too much on his cock or ass like I can tell he wants me to.
I do linger longer in those places than anywhere else, though.
I briefly brush over his nipples, and after I rinse his hair, I stand up, offering him my hand.
He stands up after taking it, and I wrap a large gray towel around him, holding on to him tightly as he steps out of the water.
We walk at the same time to the room, and he sways a little due to being off his feet for so long.
“You okay?”
“Can we go for a walk before dinner?”
“It might be too cold for a walk.” I wrap the towel tighter around him, ushering him to the bed.
He lifts his leg up, his gaze bouncing between the cuffs on the chair and his ankle.
I scramble across the way and back to him within seconds, securing him back to the bed. “I can wear a jacket and warm clothes.”
“I don’t think I have much that would fit you.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll be able to walk soon.”
“You mean when you take me back home?”
I nod swiftly, perching myself on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. In a week or so.”
“Are you sure I have to go?”
“Yes. You’re ready.”
“I’m not,” he complains.
“If I say you are, then you are.”
“It’s cause you’re tired of me. Only I could somehow push the guy who went through so much trouble to keep me to want to let me go only months later.” He takes a ragged breath. “You at least lasted longer than the others. I usually mess up sooner than that.”
“It’s not . . . that’s not why. You need to go home. It’s time for you to get back to your life. Your family misses you.” Only his sister, but not bad enough to send out a search party.
His eyes are as big as saucers. “They do? All of them?”
Even after all this time of not having him around, he still needs his dad’s love. Or is this more for validation of what he already knows deep down. “Your mom and sister do.”
“Oh.” He nods, sitting back. “Yeah. I miss them too.”
“They’ll be happy to have you back. You’ll be happy too.”
“Yeah. Happy.” He snorts, looking away from me.
“You getting tired? Want to nap while I do some farm chores?”
“Not until you’re sure I’m clean enough.” He fumbles with the edge of the towel, his cock head poking between the flaps.
“Right. I almost forgot.” Whatever helps him forget about the last thing we were talking about, and whatever leads to him lingering on my tongue for the next few days.
He lies back on the mattress, spreading out his arms, and his eyes close at my first lick of his nipple.
“Check somewhere else,” he says, rolling his hips.
I open his towel and swipe my tongue over his slit, collecting the tiny amount of precum there. He presses his hand to my head, pushing me away, and I look up, meeting his partly open eyes.
“Somewhere else,” he pants out.
My mouth salivates as I lift his legs and flick my eyes over his twitching hole. I lick the seam of his balls and raise his hips, shoving my tongue between his cheeks, feasting on his pretty pucker.
He moans, pressing against my mouth and I lift my mask, rubbing the stubble of my jaw over his sensitive skin. His thighs shake, and I circle my thumb around his outer entrance and shove my tongue as far as it’ll go, spitting inside him as I open him with my fingers.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, sounding breathless.
“Yes.” I slide up his body, undoing my jeans. Pulling out my cock, I squeeze beneath my head and roll my erection over his. “See, we’re touching each other.”
I grab his hand, wrapping his fingers around us both as I grind against him.
He strokes us together and I lick along his clavicle.
His cock jerks and his hand slows as I rut against him, my hips moving faster.
Our bodies create filthy sounds as I sink my teeth into his shoulder.
He shouts unintelligible words and him coming on my cock sends me spiraling.
My swollen head rubs over his one more time before I’m spilling my load between us.
My muscles tense, balls pulling tighter to my body, and I rub my mouth over his, not moving as he runs his cum-covered fingers over my chin.
He traces the seam of my lips and I suck them between my teeth, swirling my tongue around his salty skin.
“You taste very clean now, piglet.”
“Will you lie with me until I fall asleep?”
I nod into his shoulder and tug down my mask. I use wipes on both of us and tuck us both under the blankets, not moving until I’m sure he’s out like light. I told him I had to do farm chores, leaving out the part about me getting the barn set up for him to safely return to.
It’ll be fine. He’ll understand and listen without putting up a fight. He’ll do what I tell him to do because he doesn’t like seeing me upset with him. He’ll be fine. He’s been doing so well inside the house, so he’ll do fine back in his own space.
Although I have been wrong to assume before.