Page 32 of Barn Burner
If only it were true.
Pushing the thought aside, I glide my hands up his torso, revelling in the feel of his smooth skin beneath my palms.Brayden is a work of art. I could spend hours admiring him. Exploring every inch of him. Tracing every freckle dotted across his skin with my fingers and tongue. I want to find out where he’s sensitive and whereabouts my hands fit perfectly, like his body was made just for me.
When my fingers reach his nipples, I give them a pinch, and his answering moan has my balls drawing up tighter. Nothing, or nobody, has ever made me feel this good. With my feet planted on the wooden floor, I tilt my hips, and the change in angle has me sinking even deeper. And I can’t help but grin when his head drops back and he lets out a loud, throaty moan.
“Fuck, Jesse! Like that. God, yes. Yes!”
My hands return to their rightful home on his hips, holding him steady as he picks up the pace. Loving how he’s taking exactly what he wants. Plus, I’m pretty sure his bare skin must be pink from where his ass is meeting the leather of my chaps in loud claps.
His breathy noises let me know he’s close. When his rhythm begins to falter, I take his leaking cock in hand. Twisting my palm around the sensitive tip, I stroke his cock, matching the times of his thrusts. Running my thumb over his wet slit, he lets out a strangled moan.
“Bloody hell, you’re killing me,” he pants. “I don’t know if I want to come or starve it so I feel you inside me all night.”
“Brayden,” I growl in a way that demands his attention. He looks down at me, eyes heavy with arousal. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, twisting my fist around his swollen head again, then giving his cock a squeeze. “Come for me.”
His lips part on a gasp, and like the good boy he is, he comes. His muscles constrict around my cock as his release lands on my stomach and chest. Heat rushes down my spine to the tips of my toes, and they curl inside my boots. I continue to stroke him through his orgasm, thrusting my hips up as my own releasebuilds. Seconds later, my body stiffens. I dig my fingers into the soft flesh of his hip and spill my load into the condom.
“Fuckkkk, Brayden,” I hiss. White sparks flash behind my eyes as euphoria courses through my veins.
I manage to catch him as he falls forward, landing on me in a sweaty heap. The erratic thump of his heart is like a drum against my chest. I wrap my arms around his back and hold him tight to me. Like if I hold him tight enough, he won’t have to leave. I’m aware that my cock is still nestled inside him, and we should probably clean up before his come dries where it’s squeezed between us, but minutes tick by, and neither of us moves.
He shifts in my arms, and I loosen my hold. With his hands flat on my chest, he pushes himself upright and lets out a small hiss as my softening cock slips free.
“You okay?” I ask, stroking my hands up his thighs in a comforting caress.
“Yeah, I think my muscles have turned into jelly, though.” He laughs softly.
I scoot over on the blanket, ignoring the uncomfortable scratches from the hay poking through the several blankets I set down. Brayden lies down beside me, and I open my arm to him. He settles in against my side, resting his head on my chest and hooking a leg over mine. I lazily run the tips of my fingers across the warm skin of his shoulder and tilt my head to look up at the night sky through the roof hatch.
A contented silence washes over us as we lie there, tangled up in each other. Not just physically, but emotionally, too.
This started out as sex, a scratch to the lust itching away between us, but it’s so much more than that now. There’s this gravitational pull between us, and part of me wants to ask him if there’s any way we can make this work. I’d settle for long distance as long as it meant I could still call him mine. But thenthe other part of me is afraid he’ll say no. Afraid that he’ll say this was only physical, and everything that I’ve been feeling was all in my head.
I know we need to talk, but past experience has me hesitant.
The issue with the life I live is that people always leave. This life isn’t pretty or easy. It’s long days, and sometimes long nights. It’s working through every day, whether it’s under the blazing sun or treading through four feet of snow.
This life doesn’t stop, and every person who has tried to come into it has ended up leaving because they don’t understand that this life isme.
And I don’t know if I’m brave enough to go through that with Brayden.
Licking over my dry lips, I ask the question I’ve been afraid to ask since I saw him lying on the side of the road.
“What are you running from, Brayden?”
He angles his head to look at me. There’s a multitude of emotions swirling in those beautiful eyes. A war that I wish I could fight for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows roughly.
“Reality,” he confesses. He chews on the inside of his cheek, contemplating his words before speaking again. “My life was becoming suffocating, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Something inside me cracks at the admission. It’s frightening how strongly I feel for him after such a short period of time. I want to destroy whoever it is who made him feel like the only answer was to run. Rip them apart with my bare hands.
But then he ran to me. Sure, that wasn’t his plan, but when does life ever go according to plan?
Smoothing my hand up his spine, I thread my fingers into the hair on the back of his head.
“Can you breathe now?” I ask, hoping he’ll say yes.
A soft smile spreads across his face. He lifts his hand to hold the side of my face. His thumb traces my bottom lip before he stretches to press a gentle kiss to my mouth.
