Page 37 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

The moment he answered, his pretty face filled the screen. He was sitting on his couch in the barn, wearing a light pink tank top, wood paneling behind him.

“You look pissed off,” I said. “Your face is flushed.”

“Why are you video calling me?” he asked.

“Wanted to look at you. I don’t regret it.”

His skin looked so soft. I wished I could reach out and touch it. I loved the look in his eyes—so curious, but trying to hide it.

“Not falling for that shit,” Max said. “Tell me your secrets.”

I clicked my tongue. “I’m not telling you my secrets, Max.”

He bit his lower lip. “Then I’m never going to trust you.”

“Good. Youshouldn’ttrust me.”

I gazed at his ruddy lips, his eyes that looked even bluer in the video screen, and his slightly messed-up hair.

A few puzzle pieces clicked together in my mind.

“Oh, Baby Blue,” I said, my voice dropping slightly. “Were you jerking off when I called?”

He didn’t say anything.

Quickly, he panned the camera down, just giving me a quick glimpse lower. He wasn’t wearing pants, and he was grabbing his cock and balls, partially obscuring them from view. Before I could get a good look, he whipped the camera back up toward his face.

“Oh,fuckyes,” I said in a low tone.

So that’s the kind of “straight” guy you are.

“I shouldn’t have showed you that.”

“Yes you should have.”

“You interrupted me,” he said.

His eyes looked half-lidded with lust now, and I felt like I’d just won the lottery.

“Are you glad I interrupted?” I asked. “Don’t fucking answer that. I know you are. Keep touching yourself.”

He let out a sigh, his eyelids fluttering shut. “You are the worst,” he murmured.

“Eyes open,” I told him. “Look at me while you touch your cock.”

My heart started to pump now. This wasexactlythe type of distraction I wanted.

“Tell me,” he said again, but I could tell from his broken breath and a slight shaking of the camera that he was stroking his cock at the same time. “The secrets.”

“I’m a bad fucking person,” I said slowly. “That enough of a secret for you?”

“That part is obvious.”

“I want bad things,” I told him. “I want you under me again. I want to hurt you, knowing you enjoy it. I want to run the metal on my tongue right along the underside of your cock and make you fucking admit how much you enjoy it, Max.”

“Oh,” he uttered, barely audible over the audio of my phone. “Fuck you, Draven.”

“Say that again,” I told him through my teeth. “Say it louder.”

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