Totally Trucked: An M/m Opposites Attract Age Gap Romance

by BJ Blakely

  It’s a painting. A gorgeous painting. Logan painted us sitting in the front seat of Mr. Big. We’re looking at the road ahead. The colors are spot on. Reds, yellows, beautiful baby blue. The painting blazes with life.

  My eyes burn. “Logan,” I whisper, turning to face him. “Did you paint this?”

  Logan stares at the ground. “Yes. Before we left.” He clears his throat. “I wanted to give it to you sooner, but the circumstances never felt right.”

  I’m overcome with emotion. Happiness, ecstasy, innocence. Every emotion in the book bubbles up inside me at once.

  It feels like I’m neck-deep in a river of feeling and the current is pulling me every direction.

  I look at the painting again, and nearly collapse under the weight of Logan’s kindness.

  It’s so fucking sweet, every goddamn detail is there.

  In the corner of the rig, I even notice the two-by-four painting of bacon.

  I laugh my ass off. “Holy shit, Logan. You even managed to fit in the bacon.”

  Logan grins sheepishly. “I wanted to give you a realistic painting. None of that impressionist bullshit. Hence, the bacon.”

  Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I set the painting onto the picnic table and pull Logan close to me.

  I instruct him to climb onto my lap, and Logan’s eyes light up at the suggestion.

  He wastes little time in throwing his legs over mine, straddling me.

  He moans as he presses himself against me, and brings his lips close to mine, but doesn’t quite touch them, not yet.

  Logan lightly pecks my cupid’s bow. “I love you, Jax. It’s a stupid painting, but it shows you how I feel.”

  He’s so goddamn perfect. I part his floppy brown hair and kiss his forehead. “It’s not a stupid painting,” I whisper earnestly. “It’s the most perfect painting I’ve seen in my life.”

  Logan snorts. “Van Gogh probably would've done better. I’m not quite at his level yet.”

  “You’ll get there someday.”

  I’m bantering with Logan in a last-ditch effort to stop the tears from flowing. His gift has ratcheted my emotions into overdrive.

  “I’ll help you every step of the way,” I rasp. “And if you ever doubt your abilities, you can come to me and vent. I’ll do everything to boost your confidence. You’re such a talented painter, and I’m so glad you’re my man.”

  Logan’s eyes well with tears. “Jeez, Jax,” he whispers, wiping his eyes. “First, you make me come from the sandwiches. Now, you make me cry.” He lets out an emotional laugh.

  “Me too.”

  But Logan has other plans. “No crying.” He glares at me. “I’ll be damned if this turns into an angst fest.”

  I snort and smack his ass. “I like the way you think.” Then after a pause, “What do you have in mind?”

  Logan licks his lips. Then he slips out of his clothes.

  Logan

  I take a sharp breath as I slide out of my clothes and crawl onto the picnic table overlooking the beautiful valley.

  My heart is racing, and I’ve never been more nervous in my life.

  While I didn’t wake up this morning planning to let Jax fuck me on a mountain, I refuse to let the opportunity pass me by, especially considering that it’s the perfect thing to stop us from breaking down into tears together.

  The last thing I want to do is let this beautiful morning turn into a sloppy angst fest.

  Yuck. Who wants that?

  I turn to face Jax. “Okay, big guy,” I say, trying to sound confident. But my voice shakes, betraying that I’m nervous inside. “Lube me up. It’s time for your thank you gift.”

  I’m worried Jax is going to bitch and moan that this is unsanitary or that he might hurt me, but he doesn’t.

  My gift must've made him fucking horny, because he slips out of his clothes and climbs onto the table, ready to blow.

  I hunch my ass higher.

  But we freeze when we suddenly hear a loud CRACK.

  “Logan,” Jax yelps, leaping off the picnic table. “I’m going to snap the table. This is a hot idea, but it’s not going to work.”

  I groan and shake my head. “Come on. I refuse to go through life without getting fucked at least once on a mountain. Besides, we’ve gotta fuck so you don’t cry.”

  Jax snorts. “Can’t we do it on the grass?”

  “The grass is damp,” I groan. “Come on, Jax. Just fuck me. If the table snaps, it snaps.”

  Jax sighs. But he does as told. With a grunt, he hoists himself back onto the table, and approaches me from behind.

  My blood pressure spikes as excitement courses through my veins.

  Maybe it’s the caffeine from this morning, but I’m so fucking horny.

  This is going to be so hot.

  Jax rubs his cock against my hole. “So fucking tight,” he murmurs, teasing my opening.

  I scrunch my eyes shut, letting the pleasure course through me. “Oh,” I moan, my voice so soft.

  Jax is here. He wants to fuck me. We might even snap the table, and everyone knows that’s as sexy as breaking a bed.

  Jax spits on my hole, his hot breath lighting me up inside.

  I moan and clench as he massages his hot spit into my ring, slipping his fingers in and out, loosening me with studied determination.

  He removes his fingers and spits on his cock, moistening it Brokeback Mountain-style.

  Thank fuck we’ve fucked more times than I can count over the past month and I’m no longer the blushing virgin I was our first night together at Sweet Dreamin’.

  I’m no longer untouched, I have an experienced man’s asshole now, and I’m ready to be fucked like an experienced man.

  Jax slides his cock head inside and grips my shoulders.

  “Ready?” he grunts in a guttural voice, which sends red-hot bolts of need coursing through my flesh.

  “Yeah,” I whimper, unclenching my hole, relishing the sensation of his hardness on my bare flesh.

  Though we still use the occasional condom now and then, we’ve mostly stopped since Jax and I got tested at the local clinic in Bear Springs together and we both came back negative.

  Also, he managed to get a medication for me from his health insurance called PrEP, which decreases the risk of HIV transmission.

  In our case, it’s unnecessary; we’re both negative and exclusive to each other, but it’s an extra layer of protection I didn’t turn down.

  Especially since it lets us fuck bareback anytime we want.

  Even after breakfast, on top of a motherfucking mountain.

  Jax slides inside. “Fuck,” he groans, pumping into my hole.

  I cry out and moan as Jax’s hardness slips in and out of my body, readying me for his intensity.

  It’s part of our ritual, pumping slowly before increasing the speed; it helps my body get ready for his rough pounding.

  I’m so fucking grateful Jax does this, because he gets rough. Like caveman rough.

  Like so fucking violent I’m screaming and spewing all over the fucking bedsheets rough.

  Thank heavens it’s exactly what I like.

  Jax lets out a primal grunt and increases the pressure.

  “Oh,” I cry out, throwing my head back as his hardness fills me, expanding in my channel as he slams into me, harder and harder.

  Jax lets go of my shoulder and wraps his hand around my neck, and suddenly I scream with surprise and ecstasy.

  This is something we’ve experimented with this past month, but Jax has never done it without warning before.

  It’s fucking hot as hell, the choking.

  I guess I’m one of those guys who likes getting choked.

  Jax digs his fingers into my throat, choking me as he pounds the shit out of me, using me like the little come slut I am. I nearly cry with emotion.

  Yes Jesus, this is the man for me. I want to stay with this man forever, keep him company while he travels. Shit, I’ll be able to see more of the good ol’ U
SA in his rig than I would at Betty’s. Yes, I want to stay with him, be his man.

  It’s too much to take. “Gonna come,” I cry out, clenching against his hardness.

  My body spasms and quivers on the picnic table, and I clench my fists, letting the hard wood of the table dig splinters into my knuckles.

  Pain sears through me, but fuck it.

  Let the wood fucking gash my knuckles to pieces. All that matters is Jax. Jax and I, Jax in me.

  With a primal scream, Jax unleashes his orgasm in my hot tight channel, and I let out a roar as I buck my passion onto the table beneath me.

  “Jax,” I cry out, collapsing in a heap of quivering need. “Fuck.”

  “Fuck is right.” Jax smacks my ass, causing me to scream. He stays inside me, pumping until he’s released every last bit of spunk inside my body. “You’re tight this morning. We have to do this more often.”

  I moan and let the orgasm wash over me, stimulating the deepest fucking parts of my soul.

  On a whim, I open my eyes and take in the view, and it leaves me fucking speechless.

  The mountains stretch on for miles, and the sunlight is so gorgeous and warm.

  This is fucking paradise.

  Jax pulls out. “Damn, you’re sexy.”

  I pry myself off the table and turn around to face Jax, only to see that Jax is staring at me with the kindest, warmest, most loving expression I’ve ever seen on his face.

  It causes my heart to melt like a big bar of melted chocolate left in the sun.

  It’s too much to take. I rush towards Jax, throwing my arms around him and peppering his face with kisses. “I love you,” I whisper, lost in my post-orgasm haze. “Love you so much.”

  Jax snorts and swats my mouth away. “Let’s brush our teeth, kiddo. Your kisses smell like sausage.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, kissing him again. “Your sausage. I hope they smell like your sausage for the rest of my life.”

  Jax playfully smacks my bare ass, and I yelp. “No,” he grunts, kissing the tip of my nose. “They smell like sausage-sausage. Mixed with caramel and espresso.”

  I moan and bury myself in his chest. “Stop teasing me, Jax. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Jax kisses my head, sending warm fuzzies exploding in my body. “Now let’s clean up and throw our clothes back on before another trucker pulls up. The last thing we need is to get put on the news for fucking.”

  “Making love,” I drawl, moaning as I continue to kiss him. “We weren’t fucking, we were making love.”

  “Fine,” Jax contends. “Making love.” He kisses me, long and slow. We moan together as we drown in each other’s lips.

  Jax breaks off the kiss and hands me my shorts. “For you.”

  I groan and reluctantly slide them on. “I wish we could stay naked forever.”

  Jax snorts. “Me too. But this is the real world. And that’s illegal.”

  “So lame,” I lament. “Maybe we should move to Europe. They’re much more tolerant of nudity over there.”

  “Agreed,” Jax says with a snort. “But until then…” He gestures to my shirt.

  “Ugh,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll put on the shirt.”

  “Thank you.” Jax chuckles and removes the tablecloth, and folds it. “Damnit, we have to do laundry tonight.”

  “Ugh,” I say again. “I hate laundry.”

  “Me too.”

  “When we get married, can we hire someone to do it for us?”

  Jax snorts. “We’ve been together a month. One step at a time.”

  “One step at a time.”

  I pretend to scowl, but deep down I’m bursting with warm fuzzies as I help Jax clean up and follow him back to the rig.

  I take one last look at the beautiful horizon, and take a mental picture of it to keep forever in my heart.

  “This is paradise,” I mutter, before sliding into the rig and slamming the door behind me. Fucking paradise.

  The one thing that’d make it better is a ring.

  24

  Logan

  “Fine. But you can’t whip out your cock.”

  I’m sitting with my knees pressed to my chest in the front seat of Mr. Big, and Jax just promised to take me to the beach.

  His words light me up to the core. A whole afternoon at the best beach in California together?

  I can use the beach as inspiration for new paintings.

  Can life get better than that?

  If only he didn’t make me promise to keep my trunks on.

  “Come on, Jax,” I groan, rolling my eyes. I playfully slug his shoulder as he pulls Mr. Big into an extra-wide parking spot. “You know I’d never embarrass you like that. I always keep my pants on, when people are around.”

  Jax puts the rig into park and scorches me with an unamused glare. “You know damn well you whip your pants off whenever you can. But you’d better not do it today.”

  “Why not?” I make a pouty face as I stare at the beautiful beach. I could frolic naked through the waves forever. Talk about a dream vacation.

  Damn America and their laws against lewdness.

  All I wanna do is get my hard cock sucked on the sand; is that too much to ask?

  Jax glares at me. “Because I have a job, asshole. I can’t afford to get put on the evening news for something you’re doing.”

  “You could whip your trunks off too. That way, we’d make the news together. You’d be complicit.”

  “That might be the worst argument I’ve ever heard.”

  Jax pulls the key out of the ignition and slips it in his beach bag, which we picked up on our way from Montana to California last week. We plan to store everything in it.

  Except my paintings.

  Such as the one I surprised Jax with behind the seat.

  I shake my head. “You’re overthinking. There’s no way we’ll get caught.”

  “I’m not taking chances.”

  “That’s not what you said in Bozeman,” I shoot back with lightning speed.

  Then I sigh and get naked anyways, spreading my legs on the seat to let Jax get a good look at my soft cock.

  The sunlight warms my member, and I moan because it feels so good.

  When I finish tormenting Jax, I toss my khakis aside and slide into my swim trunks, which was the reason I got naked in the first place.

  “See?” I whisper after I’ve safely fastened the string of my light blue trunks. “I only got naked to put on my suit. Take a chill pill. That anxiety will be the death of you.”

  “You’re insufferable.” Jax playfully smacks my shoulder. “But also adorable. And you have such a sexy cock. I love when it’s soft.”

  I snicker and wink at Jax. “You don’t like it when it’s hard?”

  Jax snorts and shakes his head. “You know I love it when it’s hard. But it’s hot as fuck when it’s soft too.”

  A flicker of desire shoots through me.

  “Jax,” I whisper, unfastening the double knot of my trunks, and staring into his eyes. “My big strong man likes me when I’m soft… Fuck.”

  I slide the trunks to my thighs, letting Jax glance at my softness.

  Lust flashes in his eyes, so I spread my thighs further, letting him see the way my softness sits on my body.

  At last, Jax can’t control himself a second longer, and with a greedy moan, he thrusts his face between my thighs and takes my cock in his mouth.

  “Oh,” I cry out, sinking into the chair, letting his warmth wash over me.

  Jax’s hot wet tongue swirling and teasing my soft cock feels like paradise.

  Jax inhales deeply, sending tiny flares of fire-hot want exploding in my body.

  If he keeps this up, I won’t stay soft for long.

  But then Jax snorts and removes my cock from his lips, sits up, and turns to me.

  “Nice try.” He placates me with a wink. “But let’s save it for the hotel.”

  Goddamnit. “Jax,” I cry out, rushing towards him
and slamming my lips on his. “Please, Jax. I need you. Don’t turn me down.”

  Jax shakes his head. “Hotel.”

  I groan. “Ugh.”

  “Nah,” Jax says. “I’m helping you stay on the right side of the law. You’ll thank me when you’re older.”

  He’s got a point. “Probably,” I admit with an overdramatic sigh. “But I’m still mad at you now.”

  Jax snorts. “Knock it off. Let’s go to the beach.”

  Jax

  Logan is so freaking cute. One second, we’re having an adorable moment in the parking lot of the beach. The next, he’s exposing himself and driving me crazy with need.

  Such a jerk. Thank fuck I have the perfect way to get him back.

  That night, after we’ve come back from a long day of suntanning and splashing in the waves, and taking a shitload of photos for our “couple’s Instagram,” which Logan encouraged me to start earlier in the week, I pull him aside and admit that I lied about the blowjob I planned to give him tonight.

  I bolt the hotel room door, and after reaching the bed, I take him onto my lap. “Hey.”

  Logan burrows into my chest. “I haven’t forgotten the blowjob, Jax.”

  I shake my head. “I have something better.” I pull out my phone and guide his eyes to the screen. “Have you ever heard of ArtSell?”

  Logan furrows his brow. “Yes.” He definitely suspects I’m up to something. But he doesn’t know what.

  My heart is racing so fucking fast it’s nearly pumping out of my chest.

  I direct his eyes to the screen. “Read.”

  Logan furrows his brow as he makes out the words on the screen. “Hmmm.” He reads the words. “Logan’s Custom Paintings: The One-Stop Shop for all your Portraiture Needs.”

  He turns to face me with the most confused expression ever. “What does this mean?”

  He’s so damn adorable. I could surprise this cutie for the rest of my fucking life. “It’s for your artwork,” I explain. “This shop will allow you to sell custom paintings online.”

  Logan is fucking speechless.

  I barge straight ahead. “It’s not a surprise that Bear Springs doesn’t have much of an art scene. With this ArtSell shop, you’ll be able to make a living doing what you love. You don’t even have to live in Bear Springs. You can sell paintings on the road with me.”