Page 49 of A Case of You
Brandon barely held back his laugh. He knew Stuart was hornier than hell now, but that’s the way Brandon wanted to keep him. He could drop Jeff hard and fast into subspace by a well-timed bite.
Stuart didn’t need anything that obvious, if Brandon primed the pump, as it were, ahead of time.
Kept horny, Stuart would be easy to manipulate with something as simple as Brandon’s hand pressed between his shoulder blades—something Brandon frequently did to him during sex or during scenes. Or holding and pressing his wrist. Even holding his hand and squeezing.
Stuart would have to wait for release until after tonight, following the rehearsal dinner.
Provided nothing serious happened to truncate their visit ahead of that.
After hearing Eileen talk about their brother last night, Brandon had a feeling things might get…interesting once Jake was tossed into the mix. But it was possible Jake would get himself disinvited to the wedding by John tonight, depending on how Jake acted. John was in agreement it might be easier to put up with and simply ignore the asshole rather than direct confrontation. Most bullies fed off the energy given to them. If no one was playing Jake’s game, he might take his ball and go home in the mistaken feeling that they were the ones losing out.
It’d be a win-win.
Whether or not that would be the strategy to beat remained to be seen.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandon didn’t have to worry much about being distracted while driving. It was farmland…farmland…some pastures with cows, followed by—spoiler alert—farmland. Considering it was nearing winter, most of the fields were brown and picked over.
Between that and the nasty, grey day, low cloud cover, and bitingly cold, intermittent drizzle that seemed to seep through his bones, Brandon wasn’t very impressed with this corner of the Midwest.
Atall.
Nothing against it personally, except after having lived in Florida all his life, he was admittedly spoiled.
After breakfast, they headed out. Stuart’s parents lived about forty-five minutes from the hotel. Not exactly next door, but for Brandon’s purposes a comfortable distance, meaning they likely wouldn’t drop in on them unannounced.
He’d never again gripe that the interior of Florida was a vast ocean of nothing, that was for sure. At least if you drove long enough there you hit an Interstate, the Turnpike, Lake O, or a large body of salt water.
Or, at the very least, a Publix.
Here, it felt like rolling hill after rolling hill of nothing but…nothing.
Stuart’s parents lived in an old two-story farmhouse plopped in the middle of a windbreak on four sides of some nondescript evergreen trees Brandon didn’t care to identify. The grey shingled siding would have blended in perfectly with the grey sky if it was a slightly darker shade ofblah.
The muddy, rutted driveway led up to and past the farmhouse. Stuart nervously directed him to park in the front yard, next to an older Buick with mud splashed on its fenders, and an older Ford truck that seemed to be mud-colored.
When Brandon shut off the engine, he started to reach for his door handle and realized Stuart wasn’t moving. “You all right?”
He had relented and hadn’t made him put the butt plug in.
Yet.
But he’d brought it with him, tucked into the side pocket of his laptop case, along with a bottle of lube. That was sitting on the floor of the backseat, behind the driver’s seat.
“Yes, Ma-Sir.”
Brandon snorted. “That was cute.”
“Sorry.”
He patted Stuart’s leg. “Not even going to ding you for forgetting to get my car door for me yesterday and today.”
His head snapped around and his eyes widened. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Sir!”
“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous.” He pointed at himself, circling his finger. “Saaaadist. Not asshole.”
Stuart finally smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”
