I JOINED everyone for dinner around back of the main dining hall, where numerous picnic benches had been set up and were already crowded with people. It was easy to find my family, and Cole was there, of course; where else would he be? I tried to avert my eyes and was once again grateful for the slight sunburn on my cheeks. It would hide any of the blushing Cole could call forth with but one flick of his dark eyes.
I needn’t have worried. Cole was a perfect gentleman. No knowing smile, no twinkle to his eyes. No more than usual, that was. It was like nothing had happened.
Not far from the tables was the man referred to as “Cook.” He was huge, and not in girth. He was a bit wide, but what was so impressive was his pure size. I knew he was well over six feet tall, but had he topped seven? He was bald, his scalp gleaming from sweat from the sun and the heat of the grills. The hands flipping the dozens of steaks were immense.
The smell of cooking meat filled the air, and I found my mouth was watering. I was starved! And how could that be? I’d had both a cheeseburger and a hot dog for lunch.
One bite of my medium-rare steak, a huge, thick thing, and I was catapulted to heaven. It was quite simply the best steak I had ever tasted in my life, just as Cole had predicted, and my eyes rolled up in my head in ecstasy. The baked potatoes (grown on the ranch?), loaded with cheese and sour cream, were just as delicious. Everything was good, the weather was just right, the emotions light and high. Laughter and the sound of smacking lips filled my ears. The evening was ideal.
Amy sat on one side of me and Crystal on the other. She was excited about the volleyball game. Apparently, she’d been spot on with a game in which her poor skills were usually legendary.
“She kicked butt,” Cole said. He was two people down from Amy and, damn, I found myself wishing he was next to me.
Crystal beamed at his praise. Cole’s attention did things to everyone.
“Tonight’s the bonfire,” Cole said. “And s’mores.”
That generated a lot of enthusiasm, and I found even I was looking forward to that. I hadn’t had the campfire treats since I was a kid. They were about the only thing—except skinny-dipping with George—I’d liked about my enforced summer church-camp days.
George. I hadn’t thought of him in years.
Liar!
How long had it been? The last time I’d seen him was—
Hey, Neil, do you ever play with it?
—the summer before my freshman year in high school. I always saw him at church camp. Dreaded and longed to see him at the same time. The guilt and the longing always at war.
And how could I forget?
Because we got caught. The camp directors had threatened to call my mother. I’d begged them not to. I’d cried and cried. Told them it was all George’s fault because he was two years older and talked me into it, and they believed me—because he was older and they thought me an innocent kid—and George’s mother had come and taken him away.
I’d been terrified for months that my mom would find out. She almost always found out. Knowing for sure she might truly kill me that time.
And the shame! I’d been haunted by the guilt of that for years. I’d been no innocent. I’d wanted everything George wanted to do. I seduced him when it was his turn to feel guilty and to say we shouldn’t be doing what we were doing. Sure, he’d started everything. Started it with those words whispered to me when we snuck out of our cabin to try a cigarette.
Hey, Neil, do you ever play with it?
I’d hated the cigarette, but I had liked what we did after that.
I never found out what happened to George. We hadn’t had the chance to exchange phone numbers or anything. I wasn’t sure where he was from exactly, and he’d had a perfectly boring last name, like Smith or something, so I couldn’t have found him if I’d wanted to.
I’d actually briefly considered killing myself. There was a swift river near my house, and I’d even stood on the edge of it once, contemplating jumping in. A school counselor had figured out something was wrong, got me to his office, and finally dragged it out of me.
That’s when he told me something that I’d held on to for a long time. He told me boys fooling around with boys was normal.
“It is?” I’d asked, stunned, heart trip-hammering in my chest.
“What was it exactly that you two did?” he asked, laying a hand on my shoulder and sitting next to me.
“We…. We….” I couldn’t say it.
But the man, I couldn’t remember his name—
Liar!
—used those skills of his to drag that out of me too.
I told him that we jerked off together. And that sometimes we did it to each other.
And he assured me that was perfectly normal. That I was going through all these hormonal changes and there was nothing wrong with what we’d done.
I had grabbed hold of that like a life preserver in a raging storm in the middle of an ocean, even though there was more after that and it had creeped me out, and I prayed and prayed that Mom still wouldn’t find out because I knew she wouldn’t think what we had done was normal at all.
“You okay, Neil?”
I jolted out of the memory and turned to Amy, who had a dripping ear of corn in hand with a row of kernels missing and butter smeared on her lips. “You went all pale, babe,” she said.
I did? I said. Or tried to. Nothing came out. I nodded instead.
I took a drink of tea. “Fine.”
“You sure?” I could see the concern on her face.
“Yeah,” I somehow managed. “Sure.”
“You look like you could use something a lot stronger than tea,” she said. “Like maybe a shot of Cole’s whiskey.”
“You know about that?”
She nodded, one side of her buttery mouth slightly upturned. “Cole’s all-purpose medicine.”
“You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic.” Cole, who had somehow materialized, was leaning in between us.
“It helped me once or thrice,” Amy said, a wistful smile on her face. “I wouldn’t refuse any.”
I wondered about that for a moment and then remembered that she and Owen had found out about the cancer a week or so before they left for camp.
“How about you wipe your face first,” I said, handing her a napkin.
“You two want to sneak off with me now, or shall we save it?” he asked conspiratorially.
Amy raised her eyebrows behind her napkin and looked at me. “Either way. Neil?”
I gulped. “I—I can wait.”
After a pause, she nodded. “Okay.” She looked up at Cole. “We’ll wait ’til the bonfire.”
“Okay.” Cole grinned, tapping his front jeans pocket, and when my eyes followed the movement, I couldn’t help but notice the not-inconsiderable mound in the crotch of his pants.
Holy shit! What did he have in there?
“You just let me know.”
“Know?” I ripped my eyes away from his bulge.
Our eyes locked. His bored into mine. The twinkle had turned into a blaze. He’d caught me. There could be no doubt.
And damn if my cock didn’t betray me once more as it shifted in my jeans.
His smile grew even broader and he winked. “About the whiskey, Big Daddy,” he lied, glanced down at my crotch, and then turned and walked away.
THE CAMPFIRE was huge, almost comically so, as people tried to approach it with their marshmallows on sticks. The heat from the near inferno was intense. I got close, lit mine on fire, and quickly stepped away. No slow browning for me. The temperature was just too much on my tender—albeit only slightly burned—skin. Plus I’d always loved my marshmallows blackened on the outside and gooey hot on the inside.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Amy said as I mashed my burned mess between chocolate and graham crackers.
I shrugged. “They’re perfect this way.” I took a bite of my sticky treat. “Not too hot or too cold.” It was wonderful, like everything else here. “You, on the other hand, are risking incineration from standing around that conflagration trying to perfectly brown yours.” I pointed to the admittedly perfect marshmallow at the end of her stick. “I mean, you’re just going to mash it in your s’more anyway.”
She grinned, and we both started laughing.
“Kettle corn?”
It was Cole—with two bags overflowing with popcorn.
“Sure.” Amy took one of the brightly colored, movie-style bags.
“Daddy?” Cole asked, his eyes dancing in the light from the fire.
“Thanks.” I took the proffered bag. “Do you grow your own popcorn too?” I asked with a grin.
“Nope, but Cook does make the mixings to turn it sweet. You’ve got chocolate on your face.”
Before I knew what he was doing, he reached out, wiped the corner of my mouth, and offered an upraised finger to me. Immediately, I felt a tightening in the crotch of my jeans as I looked from the chocolate on the tip of his big index finger to his eyes and back again. Those eyes were flashing again, and I could see the “I dare you” in them. My breath caught. Taking the choice away from me, he stuck his finger in his own mouth and sucked it clean.
Amy cleared her throat, and I jerked. We turned to her in unison. Both her brows were raised high enough that they’d disappeared under the hair that covered her forehead. “If you two are through, how about some of that whiskey, Cole? I could sure use a drink, and I think Neil here could too.”
“You bet,” Cole said. “But let’s slip back a bit, out of the light where everyone can see us.”
We did, which meant Amy couldn’t see the daggers I’d shot her with my eyes.
“What the hell was that?” I murmured.
“I was thinking of asking you the same thing,” she replied.
For one second, I thought I might either throw up or run away. Until I realized there was no reproach in her voice. None at all. My stomach began to flip.
Cole wiggled up close to us and grinned. “I feel like I’m at the high school prom sneaking booze into the punch.”
“You spiked the punch,” Amy said. She couldn’t disguise the glee in her voice.
“I sure did.”
“Me too,” she whispered and burst into laughter.
“That was you?” I asked in shock.
“Yup,” she said and took the flask from Cole. She took a drink and winced only slightly.
“Good Kentucky whiskey,” Cole had said.
She gave a slight cough. “Of course, I used vodka to spike the punch. Not whiskey. Much easier to disguise.”
That was the truth. The homecoming queen had almost fallen off the stage.
“I’m not so much worried about that tonight,” he replied. “Guess I’m just into feeling a little naughty.” Then he looked straight at me.
My breath caught, and Cole drank. I watched his throat move as the burning alcohol went down. That throat. Even that was sexy. Strong.
A man’s throat.
Could a throat be sexy?
My pulse quickened. I felt sweat rolling down my ribs.
Then he handed me the flask. Our fingers not only touched this time, they intertwined. And dammit, I did nothing to stop it. My heart was pounding now. Our eyes locked.
He leaned in. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, and I hoped Amy didn’t hear. But how could she help it? She was barely two feet away. “You gotta make up your mind.”
Make up my mind? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
I pulled the whiskey away from him and took a long swig.
“Hold on there, partner,” Amy drawled. “Save some for us, old hoss.”
I started to cough, and Cole slapped my back and—damn it, damn it, damn it!—even that touch heated me up. When I stopped coughing, I choked out, “Damn!”
Cole was standing so close. I felt my cock moving, looking for room to stretch out. It was his eyes.
“I’ve got to go,” I said and spun away.
“Neil,” Amy called out.
“You okay, Big Daddy?” Cole’s voice, even raised in worry, was like honey.
I got about two feet before Amy grabbed my arm. I pulled away.
“Neil? Babe?” I couldn’t see her face. The flames were behind her, silhouetting her.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he’d whispered. “You gotta make up your mind.”
No! No decision to be made. I couldn’t go back. I’d escaped it all these years. I couldn’t go back.
I started to tremble. I backed away.
“Neil?”
“Let him go,” Cole said.
I turned and ran.
I had to get out of there, and I had to get away as fast as I could.
THAT NIGHT, I had a very intense dream.
I was soaking in the hot tub when I heard a noise. A sort of gurgling. Curious, I climbed naked from the water and went to the gate.
Me. Without a towel.
How did I not know it was a dream? How do we dream such things and not know it can’t be real?
“Hello?” I asked.
Nothing.
I opened the gate, as casually as could be, worried not in the least about being naked.
There before me was a huge black bear.
I froze, terrified.
It reared up on its hind legs, looking like it must be ten feet tall. More. Fifteen feet. Who measured such things in the world of sleep?
The bear lunged forward, and of course I couldn’t move. I screamed, and it threw its shaggy arms around me, its huge mouth open wide, and I could actually feel its hot breath, feel the claws on my back—so sharp. It was so real!
I tried to wake myself, finally knowing this couldn’t be real. Hoping it wasn’t. Begging that it wasn’t. But in Morpheus’s realm I stayed.
And then the great bear began to change.
It began to shift, its flesh moving and flowing. Like a candle, the bear began to melt, transforming against me. The hair was retreating into its body, disappearing, the snout shrinking away, its form growing smaller and slimmer, and then…
…and then it was Cole.
He was naked.
His arms were still wrapped around me, his hands on my shoulder blades, and he was looking at me, into me, with those exotic eyes.
Eyes filled with pure lust.
I felt his hardness against me, and when I looked—for some reason I could see—I saw he was fully erect, his cock throbbing with excitement.
He kissed me.
My heart felt like it would explode inside my chest.
He thrust his cock against mine and, oh yes, I was hard too! His skin was smooth, so smooth, and it was crushing up against the thick hair on my own chest. It felt so damned real and, even in the dream, I sensed the irony of how now I was the hairy one.
The kiss seemed to go on forever, and a heat rose up within me. Below, our cocks were dueling, slipping, sliding, crushing against each other….
Abruptly Cole pulled back.
I cried out from wanting his lips on mine. Then he fell to his knees and took my thick length into his mouth. It was so wet and warm and real!
When I looked down at that masculine, beautiful man sucking me, it was over. I came violently and awoke with a shout.
I discovered I had ejaculated all over myself. My chest and belly were covered in my seed. I hadn’t had an orgasm with so much semen since I was a teen.
And when had I last had a wet dream? Years?
Fuck! I couldn’t escape Cole. Not even when I slept. This had to stop or I was doomed.