Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Now if Bernie had been Bernard instead of Bernice, my dong might have dinged every now and again.”
It took about ten seconds for his words to actually sink in.
Holy hell, is he actually admitting that he’s…
“Close your mouth, Sheriff… you think you and your generation were the first to find out how bent out of shape folks can get when your dong only likes other dongs?”
I knew he was trying to lighten the conversation, but the somberness in his expression kept me from smiling at his word choice. “How did you know about me?” I asked.
“Anyone who sees the way you look at that boy can see it,” Walter said.
The mention of Ford had my stomach tightening into painful knots. I’d shot down all of Walter’s attempts to talk about Ford earlier in the week by constantly changing the subject. The older man had finally gotten the message and had stopped bringing him up.
I hadn’t seen Ford since he’d fucked me on the floor of his studio… but I dreamed about that moment every single night.
And usually woke up with my hand wrapped around my dick and Ford’s name on my lips.
“You out, son?”
I glanced up at him.
“I don’t advertise it, but I don’t deny it either.”
Walter nodded. “That’s the way it should be, seein’ as how it’s no one’s business, but folks around here will say you were hidin’ it when they do find out.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said on a defeated sigh. My sexuality was just one of many things that people would twist and turn however they wanted if they ever did find out.
“That boy’s in trouble. And not just from what his brother’s doin’ to him. You know that… you see it.”
I drew in a deep breath and looked around the room. “I’ll bet you’re looking forward to getting out of here,” I said hopefully. There was just no way I could talk about Ford. It had taken every ounce of willpower I had not to go to his house and make sure he was okay. Fortunately, my shattered pride was making not seeing the other man more bearable. I would never forget that moment when Ford had pinned me to the floor and taken me so roughly.
I’d loved every second of it.
And I’d loved it even more when he’d kissed me gently as he’d pummeled my body. He’d said something to me, but I’d been so lost in the throes of passion that I hadn’t understood him.
When it’d been over, I’d just lain there, completely spent and completely sated.
I’d also lost a little piece of my heart to the other man.
That had been particularly frightening because it had been the same way with Carter, though it hadn’t happened so hard or so fast. I was only now coming to understand that I’d only been fascinated with the idea of Carter. My heart had foolishly hoped that the emotions would follow. With Ford, fascination and emotion had been intertwined from the moment I’d seen him on that sidewalk. I barely knew the younger man, but I was more than just infatuated with him.
I’d thought the night in his studio would change things… either by proving I was using my attraction to Ford to deal with the fallout from my failed relationship with Carter, or by being the start of something new.
I hadn’t expected it to be a lesson in humiliation that was so painful it felt like I’d been flayed alive. The way Ford had pulled away from me and ordered me not to touch him was burned into my brain, but the sight of him on his knees in the snow had changed something deep inside of me. To know that being with me had sickened him like that…
I felt my own stomach roll and I actually ended up reaching for one of the extra plastic cups on Walter’s table and filling it with water. What I really needed was a bottle of scotch, but I’d already tried resorting to dulling my senses with alcohol the past three nights. Fortunately, I hadn’t had to work, but as sheriff, I was technically always on call. And it wasn’t like I was even a fan of hard liquor… I’d avoided it most of my adult life, indulging on only the rarest of occasions.
“He ain’t been by to see me,” Walter said. “He calls, though. But he ain’t been by.”
It didn’t surprise me that Walter hadn’t let me change the subject.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Walter. I’m sure he’s just been busy with work.”
“You know that ain’t—”
“I have to get going,” I interrupted. I didn’t have the heart to tell Walter I didn’t give a shit what was happening with Ford.
Yeah, good luck selling that story, the voice in my head muttered.
I ignored the sarcastic fucker and said to Walter, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow. How do you feel about pastries? I hear there’s this bakery near here that makes the best cronuts—”