Page 15 of Stay A Little Longer
“You’re right. You should go.” Lance’s voice was clipped as he cut him off, “I’ll see you later or, see you around or, something.”
A sick feeling of dread crawled through his veins, “Lance? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just… go on. You don’t want her to find you here. I get it. I don’t want her to find you here either.”
Double ouch.
The dread formed a lead ball and fell to the pit of his stomach. Shit. Fuck. Damn it all to hell. What was happening?
They needed to talk. He had a sudden feeling that he’d misjudged this entire situation. They needed to work it out but damn it, Lance was right. He didn’t want Lemon finding him here. Didn’t want to have to explain what had happened or why he’d spent the night with a man he didn’t know. Didn’t want to be subjected to her judgement or her questions and certainly not more of her pity or concern. So he didn’t have time to talk about all of this with Lance right now.
He stood and marched around the bed, cornering the other man against the headboard, “I’m going now but this isn’t over.”
Lance’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Damn if that didn’t make Trent’s cock twitch too. Everything about this man got to him. He wanted him again. Here and now. He wanted to make Lance beg for it, prove that this, whatever it was, went both ways. But that wasn’t desire in those dark eyes right now, it was fear and he knew enough about that not to push.
“We’re going to talk about this later. Okay?” He reached out and gripped Lance’s hair, forcing his head back and his eyes up when he didn’t answer, “Say okay.”
“Okay.”
He slammed him mouth down hard as soon as he had the answer he wanted. Lance didn’t recoil. Despite his dismissal, he all but purred and opened for Trent instantly. Their tongues coiled together, seeking, exploring, claiming.
It took everything in him not to open his fly with his other hand and make Lance beg for it. Instead he sucked on Lance’s tongue until he whimpered and then eased the pressure, content with the knowledge that whatever was going on in the gorgeous dark-eyed man’s head that his body still wanted Trent.
He pulled back with a last lingering lick, “I’ll be back.”
Lance snorted, “Okay Terminator.”
“Shut up.” Trent barked a laugh, happy to see Lance’s sense of humor had returned and the mood had lightened.
“Go away.”
“I’m going.” He winked over his shoulder, “See you later, baby.”
“Told you, I’m not a baby.”
“You are when you’re mine.”
The possessive words hung in the air between them but Trent didn’t turn around to see what Lance’s reaction was. He had to get the hell out of this trailer. It, and this man, were doing a number on him. If he wasn’t careful, he’d say fuck it, climb back in that bed and never leave. Which was fucking insane because he barely knew the guy.
But he wanted to.
Trent walked out of the trailer into the bright light of morning and squinted. Jesus. His life was a mess. He’d just been outed. He was basically in hiding. He had no idea if he still had a career or a label or even a manager since Rick hadn’t called since yesterday. He didn’t have a fucking clue what his next step should be but he knew what he wanted it to be.
He wanted to find out if the man of his dreams lived in a beat-up trailer on the edge of a nowhere Texas town.
His phone beeped in his hand again and he scowled as he read the message from Lemon. She’d asked if he was awake. Again. He wanted to angrily tap out that no, he was still happily asleep in the arms of a gorgeous man that had made him come his brains out and then asked him to spend the night but she’d already ruined that. Instead he typed out a quick, well, I’m up now and hit send, hoping it conveyed his irritation.
Trent let himself into the trailer that sat not fifty feet from the front door of the one he’d just left. Even in broad daylight it was no wonder he’d gotten them mixed up. They looked exactly the same, faced each other and shared one driveway. He’d parked on the street so as not to take the only parking spot but he’d chosen the wrong trailer.
Or the right one, he grinned to himself as images of Lance underneath him replayed in his mind.
This trailer was colder. Emptier. And a lot less welcoming. It was bare except for a bed in the back room made up with some frilly sheets and pillows that must have been Lemon’s doing. He kicked his boots off haphazardly and set about rumpling the bed to make it appear as if he’d slept in it and just woken up.
Not three minutes later there was a knock on the trailer door and then it swung open behind him as a sing-song voice said, “Wakey-wakey, I brought eggs and bakey!”
Trent spun around in time to see Lemon come through the door of the trailer with a sack in one hand and two coffee cups in the other. God bless her but she was a sight for sore eyes. His best friend in the world, his sister by choice if not by blood, and he forgot all about her annoying messages that had dragged him out of Lance’s bed when she grinned at him.
“Welcome to Fate.”
