Page 43 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“That’s how we do it in Tennessee, baby.”

He was getting off to one of my videos. A flare of pride ripped through me so quickly I didn’t have time to be shocked by it.

You’re jerking off to videos of me?

Now who’s really the one in control?

He still hadn’t spotted me and I knew if I moved slow, I could still make a break for it.

But as I took a step backward my shoe hit a branch on the grass and it snapped.

Draven’s head turned my way, but he didn’t even seem startled.

Fuck.

He seemed glad.

Like a predator who’d just struck gold out in the wild, spotting prey, walking right into his den.

“Max,” he said.

He wasn’t taking his fist away from his cock. Wasn’t even making an effort to move or grab his clothes or preserve any sense of modesty.

His cock was thick and so goddamn pornographicallybigand I was still looking at it—still unable to tear my gaze away as he started to stroke again, slowly, from the root, as if this were something we were doing together.

Something flared beneath my skin. Suddenly the sunlight felt way too bright and hot.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Touching my cock. Looking at you. Putting my thumb through the precum at the tip, because now I finally have you here.”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my eyes remained laser-focused on him.

I was getting drawn in by his eyes, being pulled further in, like he had the power to unravel me with just a look.

Being caught, and catchinghim, sparked something in me.

My stomach went taut, and everything was brought into heightened focus. The sound of the cicadas. The faint floral smell in the air. The green of his eyes, visible even from here.

It was making my dick twitch.

For some reason all of it was swirling together, settling in my mind, my brain confusing it for another turn-on instead of a red flag.

I wasn’t into men before, but there was no longer any doubt that I was so attracted to Draven it was fucking dangerous.

The same thought from earlier returned to my mind again, too: I’d always liked watching videos online where people did things in public places. Places where they shouldn’t.

When those people gotcaught?Even better.

Call it voyeurism or exhibitionism or whatever it might be, but I definitely didn’t mind looking at guys’ cocks if they were in those kinds of videos.

And I didn’t want to run. I was just…

Standing here.

Planted.

I swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “You shouldn’t be here,” I managed to say.

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