Gutsy, page 17
“I went for an evening stroll to clear my mind. I got lost and wasn’t wearing the clothing I should’ve been. Frostbite, unfortunately.” He held up his hands. “But I’ve been led to believe it could’ve been much worse and I’ll get away without permanent damage.”
The sympathy that flashed to life on Trooper Simic’s face made me think he was a genuinely good guy, and I felt bad we were lying to him. He cleared his throat. “Do you want me to call your parents so they can visit?”
“No. Please no. I’ll call them later.”
Trooper Simic frowned but nodded. “Well, if you’re sure, buddy. Have a good one and you feel better, ya hear? I’m always happy to report good news, and you alive and mostly well is the best. Too often it’s not the case.”
“Thank you,” Journey said, prim and proper.
With a wave at me, the trooper left and closed the door.
A few heartbeats passed, and Journey murmured, “Wonder what will happen when they find the cop car in a river in Vanheim?”
“What?” I asked, startled.
“I ate the missing cop. He tasted a bit like sausages.”
There was nothing good to say to that little nugget of information, so I shrugged.
“What happens if—”
“It will all be okay.”
“You can’t just make it okay.” He ducked his head and glanced at the door. “Well, you can’t.”
I got up and sat by Journey on the bed, giving him a hug. “You had a good idea earlier.”
“Oh, which one?” he asked, snide as ever.
“Tying you to the bed.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He laughed and rested his head on my chest, and there was no missing the way he shivered in my arms. I didn’t think it was still the hypothermia bothering him, and I fully understood the sentiment.
13
PIOUS
Bringing Journey home from the hospital was a surprisingly subdued event. He was tired and in pain, and while he quietly thanked me for everything I did to help him, he didn’t talk about much else. Esau seemed to have gotten over his fear, now that Journey’s hands were all bandaged, and Amos was back from Oma’s house.
Several days passed while Journey healed. I didn’t tie him to the bed, and he didn’t try to sneak off anywhere. In fact, he was pleasant, and we had a lot of easy, quiet conversations about nothing in particular. We didn’t have sex again, but he wasn’t feeling well, and I was happy simply being near him.
“I feel like maybe I brought the wrong man home from the hospital. You’re not trying to take a bite out of me,” I said one evening while I sat next to him on the couch after a long day working. His bandages were fresh and stood out against his tawny skin. The blisters from the frostbite had popped and he was changing the coverings frequently because of it. I couldn’t imagine the pain he was in, and I felt bad every time he moved and winced.
“Yes, there’s usually a period of time where I’m fully myself after. . . you know.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll be a monster again in no time.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but I felt certain I could keep him from hurting anyone, so I didn’t get too flustered over it all.
“Did you ever call your parents?”
He made noncommittal sounds, and I dragged him closer against my side, being careful of his hands. He had a book on the arm of the couch, and I wanted to ask him about it, but the volume was about eight hundred pages on economics, which I’d never read. It probably wouldn’t end well. I kissed his temple, and he rested his weight on me, which made me feel important, whether it should or not.
A full week rolled by. We ate together, talked together, and discussed the news when he read it on his phone. It began to feel like Journey had always been here on the farm, and that the world outside didn’t exist, which was a somewhat normal feeling for me, but the rest? The part where a man who laughed at my dumb jokes was eager to talk to me? That was new.
It turned out Journey was a proud man, and maybe I should’ve guessed that. It took me catching him trying to do his laundry while wearing a blanket toga and fighting through the pain in his hands to realize he hadn’t brought anything with him when he ran away from what was probably a very expensive wardrobe in Vanheim.
“When my hands feel better I’ll go shopping,” he grumbled, after I asked him about it, but that might be a while, and although I didn’t mind if he walked around naked, our other two housemates might have an opinion.
Esau and I made a plan to cobble together some basics for him.
“I can ask my sisters to sew clothes for your boyfriend,” Amos said quietly while we were milking cows early on Friday morning. He didn’t really talk to Journey, so I was surprised by the offer. I’d thought maybe Amos was scared of him.
“No, you haven’t needed them for anything since you left. Don’t go asking them for favors on our account,” Esau snapped. I wasn’t sure, but the volume of his voice and the fury etched into his expression made me think he’d gotten the whole story behind Amos leaving his community. I was itching to ask but didn’t want to pry.
Sunday morning was cold, the snow was deep, and the sun didn’t come out at all beyond making the gray sky slightly less ominous. I gently jostled Journey awake with a hand on his naked shoulder. Since he’d been using his hands more and leaving off some of the wrappings, I thought maybe he was ready to do something other than stare at the log walls.
“Hey.” He blinked at me and smiled, and my breath snagged. I still hadn’t gotten over how amazing it was to see him first thing in the morning.
“Wanna go to church with me and Amos?” I pressed a small kiss to his cheek, loving his warmth next to me.
He chuckled. “Pass. I’m an atheist with a side of Hindu.”
“Oh.” I blinked at him.
He laughed and rested his head on my shoulder. “You’re surprised.” His pretty copper eyes stared all the way down into my soul as he studied my face.
“I guess I am.” I grinned at him. “But not in a bad way. What do you do on Sundays?”
“Sleep,” he grumped and rolled over, but there was a tiny smile on his lips.
Shrugging, I got up and pressed a kiss to his temple before I got ready to go. Amos and Esau went with me, and after the sermon I passed around the word to the small congregation that we needed clothes for a friend, along with the sizes I thought he wore. People knew where I lived, so they brought bags and dropped them off on my porch, which gave Princess Brat plenty to bark about. Before the end of the day we were deluged with castoffs—some useful, some hilarious.
Journey made the worst face at me when I brought in eleven garbage bags and stacked them in front of the couch where he’d been spending a lot of his time recuperating. Princess Brat raced over, bounded onto the cushions, and wriggled closer to him. He smiled and patted her.
“What in the world?” He closed his book awkwardly and set it aside.
“See what fits,” I said, then left him there sputtering. I’d already poked around and spotted someone’s 1970s prom tux, and I couldn’t wait for him to unearth that particular time capsule.
It was nice to leave the house chuckling to go check on the animals. On my way to the milking barn I passed Esau and slowed. He was crouched near the rear driver-side tire of his Gladiator, messing around with it.
“You’re in a good mood,” he said. As he glanced up, he seemed to be judging me for not being down in the dumps, and I wasn’t sure what his issue happened to be.
“Yep.” I shrugged.
“We still don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Esau glanced at the house. Wind ruffled his dark hair, cold and sharp enough to cut through my winter clothes and send a shiver racing along my skin. Somewhere nearby one of the cows lowed, the sound desolate and lonely.
“Yep. What’s your point?”
“You’re ignoring the fact that he attacked Amos.” Esau crossed his arms as he stood, but I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He’d never intimidated me in his whole life, and I wasn’t about to start being afraid of my own brother now.
“What do you think I should do, Esau?” I asked, exasperation surging through me. I spread my hands. “What? You got some better idea you haven’t shared?”
He flinched and took a step back from me. “I’m not sure.”
We were quiet, and he lightly kicked at the tire he’d been fiddling with. Irritated with the whole conversation, I went on to do my chores. When I came inside it was to find Journey in a pair of yellow-and-white plaid pants and a pink polka dot sweater that about made my eyes bleed.
“How do I look?” He raised his hands to the back of the couch and spread out. The pants hugged his thighs and crotch, and even though I’d gladly toss the sweater in the fire, I couldn’t complain at all about the man underneath.
“Beautiful, same as always.”
He flushed and glanced away, but a smile played on his lips.
Monday morning I woke up early, same as always, to Journey nestled with his naked ass against my throbbing cock, unbearably trapped in my boxers. When I tried to ease away, he held on to my hands and kept me close, which I didn’t mind in the least.
“Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, voice rough with sleep. In the dimness of the room, he was the whole world. His skin was soft as I skated my fingertips over his belly, and his strong legs felt good curled against mine.
“Yes.”
There was a quick scramble for lube, and unlike last time, I felt much more confident as I spread him open and prepared him. My cock ached with an urgency that only happened with morning wood—hard enough I was uncomfortable and singly focused on getting inside him. The dim room and the cool air made everything a bit cozier under the blankets. My heart took off at full speed as he rocked his body with my fingers.
“What can I do better?” I murmured in his ear. “Want you to feel as good as I do.”
He groaned, then laughed. “Fill me up. You don’t need to do anything better, just faster. I need you. Now.”
“Oh.”
An amused hum from him had me smiling, too. My boxers fought me as I shoved them off one-handed. I didn’t like easing my fingers free because I loved teasing his body, but it was amazing to slick up, the pressure of my hand on my cock a million times better than usual with him right here waiting for me. My stomach went warm as I pressed my cockhead against his entrance, and I shuddered. Sliding into his ass was so easy, there was no resistance, and the scalding heat and pressure of his hole engulfed me, stopping all rational thought. “Damn.”
He let out a small, contented sound and nestled back against my chest again. “Fuck me awake,” he demanded, and I nodded, moving my body. The urgency was overwhelming, and even though I thought I should hold back, I couldn’t. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pounded into his body. This was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I never wanted to let him go.
14
JOURNEY
“You’re going to have to jerk me off.” I growled out in frustration as I went to grab my dick, but the bandage on my hand felt awful against my sensitive skin. I grabbed Pious’s hand and licked my tongue across his palm, which had him grunting and pumping his hips faster. He smashed me so hard I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from rattling.
Pious shifted, barely, and I froze as he pummeled my prostate directly, sending shockwaves of heat through my shaft to tingle on my cockhead. My breath caught and I strained, moving my body with his.
“There, oh there,” I whispered, going back to licking his hand, but midstroke of my tongue I stopped as heat rushed me and my orgasm struck. My balls emptied, and I gasped through the intense pleasure as he continued to thrust hard, then relaxed back as the rush of tingles and bliss stopped and he kept going.
“Do it. Feel good, Pious. Come in me,” I said, wrapping my arms over his where they held me tight. “I want you in me. Put your wad deep in my ass so it stays there all day. I want to feel it spreading out in there. I want the heat.”
He hissed. “The things you say.”
“I mean them.”
The tempo of his hips changed, going faster and more erratic, and he panted in a way I could only think of as animalistic as he forced himself deep into my body and stayed there, tugging me more firmly against his front. His muscles tensed, and I could feel him growing the slightest bit harder as he unloaded in me. I’d had partners I couldn’t notice this with in the past, but either he ran hotter or dumped more cum because it was very clear he’d filled my ass.
Time drifted by lazily. Eventually he kissed my cheek, but I’d been drowsing. “I have to get moving for the day,” he said, apology clear in his tone.
“It’s okay. If you could be careful pulling out? I don’t want to lose any of it. Go slow.”
He groaned in my ear, and my dick stirred again as he gently eased his softening cock from my hole. I rolled to my back and smiled up at him. His heavy brows and jaw were stern, but his expression was soft, and his lips felt good when he pressed them to mine. We kissed for a relaxing while, but eventually he got up and dressed. I lounged, and he stopped at the bedside to press a kiss to my forehead without any further talk. He walked backward out of the door, being silly and waving, and I chuckled. I liked that there was no drama or fuss with him. He’d started kissing my cheek or ear or nose or whatever else he could reach before he left the room I was in, and that was just the way things were now. A tiny sign he cared a lot about me.
It was slowly starting to sink in that Pious expected me to let him know if something was wrong. He wasn’t like some men I’d gotten entangled with who were constantly second-guessing everything. He was confident in what he did and said, and he trusted me to tell him about issues. Smiling, I curled up and went back to sleep. When I woke for the second time, I had to piss so bad I rushed directly to the bathroom still naked with my eyes half closed. I passed Amos coming out and his jaw dropped, but I was in too much of a hurry to care about his poor sensitivities. In relief, I aimed toward the toilet bowl, the seat already lifted, which was convenient, and let loose.
My mind drifted and I glanced down. I cursed and sprayed the back of the seat for a second, then forced the stream where it should go. Light mossy green had begun to creep over my gut, starting at the top and leeching downward, like a gas tank emptying. I laughed at the absurd thought. As if to prove a point, because I’d noticed the change beginning, one tiny hunger pang sprang to life in my gut. No matter what I ate today, it wouldn’t quite go away. It was only the beginning. I shook my head. Somehow I’d managed to convince myself maybe this was over simply because Pious knew about it. The pain had taken longer than the last two times to set in, or maybe it hadn’t? I tried to make my mind be useful. Perhaps I’d been more distracted and only thought it had taken longer?
“Damn it.” I finished up, shook, and flushed. While I was worried, I still had a life to live, so I went to the sink. Underneath I’d stashed everything I needed to change the bandages on my hands. The doctor had said it might be best to go without them as soon as the blisters stopped seeping, so I carefully unwrapped the bandages and gritted my teeth as they came off and tugged at a few open spots. The doctor had also decided the blisters weren’t bad enough to drain, and I sighed at the mess of my hands. They didn’t look completely terrible, and I supposed I was lucky, but at the moment I didn’t feel that way. Most of the blisters had gone down on their own, but two had popped and were more painful than the others. I left the bandages off and applied ointment to the broken sores on the tops of my fingers. Due to the way I’d been clutching my legs, the bottoms of my fingers hadn’t gotten cold enough to cause the same problems.
Swallowing hard, I looked at my hands and tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t like this, and not because it hurt. If I was perfectly honest, I hated looking bad in any way, and. . . this wasn’t pretty. I hung my head and let out a long breath. What would Pious think of this? Would he regret sticking his dick in me because my hands were an eyesore? I’d been with plenty of men who wouldn’t have thought twice about ghosting me for less.
A bad haircut.
I’d had a pimple on my chin once that a date had pointed out no less than four times over drinks.
Pious had only talked about my hands to ask how they were feeling.
Forcing away the troubling thoughts, I stuck my head out of the bathroom door and glanced around—no reason to irritate Amos further if he was still about. I slinked back to Pious’s bedroom, groaning under my breath as I remembered I had the hand-me-down clothes and not my usual ones; although, he didn’t seem to mind me not looking like I was ready to go out for a night on the town. I glanced at my stomach again, then decided to ignore it. What could I do about it anyway?
After I got dressed in jeans, a white undershirt Esau had lent me, and a gray sweatshirt that was far too big, I hissed my way through picking up 23 Things They Don’t Tell You About Capitalism, the book I was reading. My fingers didn’t hurt overly much, but the pain was enough to have me being careful. The book was dull but required for classes, whenever I got back to them. I flopped down on the couch in the living room, and Bratty—I’d done away with the princess bit—leaped up onto the couch to lie her head on my thigh. I gently patted her soft brown head, and she gave me the most adoring look I’d ever seen. Her pink tongue rolled out as she panted happily.
“You’re the best Brat in the world, aren’t you, dearest?” I scratched behind her ears and her tail thumped. I froze when she sat bolt upright and stared toward the front door, then raced off in that direction. She quivered on the spot as she began to bark like mad.
“What in the world?”
A heavy knock had me struggling to my feet as my heart raced. In the entire time I’d been here, no one had ever knocked, and I couldn’t put my finger on why, but the change seemed suspicious. I dropped my book and stared for a moment, but then more thuds against the door had me moving. I stood there, chest heaving, and flinched when there was yet another round of thuds on the other side. Bratty yapped, and I let out a long breath as I opened the door. She backed away and continued to snarl, her entire body heaving with the effort.
