by Andrew Grey
Chapter 8
JAMIE LOVED basketball, and football as well, and he was pleased when Arty joined them in the living room. He didn’t seem to understand the finer points of the game, and Jamie did his best to explain some of the strategy.
“Arty never liked sports,” his dad said, his attention still glued to the television. Jamie wanted to argue with him, but Arty shook his head and sat back. These two men who sat in the same room were as far apart as Jamie had ever seen two people. Even he and his dad spoke to each other. They might have argued most of the time, but at least it was communication. This quietness was disconcerting. Still, it was none of his business.
“It’s okay. Basketball isn’t as interesting for me as it is for you and Dad. I just came out to be with both of you.” Arty got up and went into the kitchen, then returned with a tray of chips and three bottles of beer. He handed one to his dad, and then one to Jamie.
“Thank you,” Jamie said as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and groaned when he saw the number—it was his dad in Iowa. The game went to commercial, so he got up and left the room. He didn’t want to disturb the others.
“Hi, Dad,” he said from the kitchen.
“Where the blazes are you? Your aunt called and said that you had been gone for over a week and then called to say you were staying with a friend. What do you think you’re doing?” His angry voice on the other end of the line was loud enough that the others could probably hear.
“I was working. I’m staying with the captain of the boat I was on because we’re going out again next week and there’s a lot to do.” He stood taller, even though his father wasn’t there to see him. It was like he had to steel himself against the older man.
“When are you coming home? I need you here. There’s work to be done, and this is where you belong.”
Jamie shook his head. Arty’s hand slid over his shoulder, and Jamie stiffened at the surprise and then relaxed and leaned back into the touch, taking strength from it.
“The farm is where you belong, Dad. Not me. I’m working here, and then once I have enough money, I’m going to New York. I have things I want to do.” He held still, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. If he listened, he could probably hear it without the aid of the telephone.
“You are not! You’ll come back here in two weeks and that’s final.” The snap in his voice was the same one that he’d used with Jamie his whole life. In the past, Jamie had always given in, but it wasn’t going to work now. “I need you here. I can’t do this all by myself,” his father added, throwing in a little guilt for good measure.
“You’ve never done it. You always had me to do all your damned work, and now you can’t figure it out. Well, I’m an adult now, and I get to make some of my own choices. I don’t want to clean up cow shit and spend hours on a tractor going back and forth planting corn and cutting hay. That isn’t how I want to spend my life.” Jamie turned to Arty, who glanced toward the other room and then moved a little closer. He could feel Arty’s heat through his shirt. “I want more.”
“Kids always want more. But you have a life here.”
“I’m not a kid, Dad, and I don’t want what you want. That’s not my life. I’m going to New York, and I won’t be back except to visit on holidays.” He sighed. “I just want my own life, Dad.”
His dad sputtered, something Jamie had never heard before. “You aren’t going to get a cent from me.”
“I already have access to my accounts.”
His dad groaned. “My name is on all those accounts, and I’ll close them out tomorrow…. You won’t have anything.”
Jamie took a deep breath. “Don’t worry about doing that. I already closed them and opened new ones that you don’t have access to.” He turned to Arty and shook his head. “You need to accept that I’m going to go my own way. I only answered your call to let you know I’m fine, I found work, and that I’m not coming home for a while. So you will need to find someone to help you work the farm. I’ll send you an email of all the things I did there, and maybe now you’ll get off your butt and work.” Jamie was so angry. He pulled the phone away from his ear as his father started yelling. He pressed the End button and put the phone back in his pocket. It rang again, and he declined the call, as well as the one after that.
It kept ringing, so he turned it off. “Are you okay?” Arty asked. Jamie felt like a caged lion and began stomping through the small yard.
“He….” Jamie threw his hands in the air, sputtering. “He thinks….” Jamie continued pacing in the yard, needing to work off his anger. “Damn him. He only thinks of what he wants, and nothing else matters.”
“At least he cares enough to be angry,” Arty said softly, and Jamie whirled on him, ready to snap. “My dad doesn’t argue with anything. He barely talks to me at all.”
“He didn’t say anything when you left?” Jamie asked, and Arty shook his head. “Nothing?”
“Not even goodbye,” Arty said with a shrug.
“All my dad cares about is his farm and how much he can make from it. And to save money, he got as much labor out of me as possible. I tended the gardens. I spent so many hours on that tractor my butt took on the shape of the seat. What was my dad doing?” Jamie shook his head. “I have no idea, but he was always sitting at the table when I came in, and then he’d have something else for me to do. I felt… feel that I’m nothing more than a workhorse for him.” He stopped moving, the energy gone, his anger draining away, at least for now. Yes, he’d told his father he was going to New York. Now he needed to make it happen and somehow build a whole new life. It was almost enough to scare him into going home… almost.
“I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” Arty said.
“Just like there’s more to your father,” Jamie argued, and hoped he hadn’t made Arty angry. Arty laughed and threw an arm over Jamie’s shoulder.
“Come on. Let’s watch the rest of this basketball game and then go to bed.”
Jamie was really starting to like the idea of going to bed. Maybe he should figure out how to spend more time there. Especially with Arty.
JAMIE YAWNED as the game ended and the analysis began. Arty had already gone in, and Mr. Reynolds flipped through the stations to try to find something to watch. Jamie said good night and padded down the hall to the bedroom. The lights were off, and in the dimness, he saw the curve that was Arty under the covers. Jamie went into the bathroom, got cleaned up, returned, and climbed under the covers, wearing only his underwear. He wasn’t sure how Arty normally slept, and he didn’t want to presume.
He needn’t have worried. Arty was dressed the same way he was, and mumbled something before moving closer, drawing Jamie into his embrace, and then settling once more.
“I don’t know if I can sleep when the bed isn’t rocking,” Jamie whispered.
“Hmmmm,” Arty responded. “Don’t worry. It will rock again soon enough.” Arty snickered, and Jamie groaned softly. The will was there, and judging by the stiffness that pressed to his butt, some part of Arty was awake, but he was already half asleep. Fatigue had caught up with Jamie, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was several hours later. The house was quiet, there was no television in the background, and Arty was breathing softly in his ear.
“Are you awake?” Jamie asked, and Arty hummed faintly, his weight shifting until Jamie lay on his back with Arty on top of him. He didn’t have much time to think about it before Arty kissed him. Jamie wrapped his arms around Arty’s back, smooth skin passing under his hands until they found the curves of Arty’s ass. Then he pushed his boxers down over them and past his hips, holding tight as his own boxers slid lower. “You most definitely are.”
Arty humphed, and Jamie cut him off by capturing his lips once again.
“We need to be quiet,” Arty whispered. “But maybe tomorrow, if I can arrange it, you and I can take a day trip out on a boat into the Gulf, and then you can talk and yell all you want.”
&
nbsp; Jamie shivered as Arty kissed away his moan and slid down his body. Jamie closed his eyes, taking in every sensation. He clamped his lips shut and swallowed hard as Arty swirled his tongue around his nipples, then down his belly, dipping into his navel before his hot breath ghosted over Jamie’s throbbing cock. He gripped the bedding when Arty encircled his cock with his lips and then went deeper, encasing him in wet heat that threatened to blow his mind to bits. He kept his mouth closed even though the need to groan and cry out was almost overwhelming.
“Arty,” Jamie whispered urgently, and Arty stopped, taking his lips once again.
“I want you, Jamie,” Arty said, and Jamie wasn’t sure what that meant. His inexperience left him wondering as Arty reached for the nightstand, his weight shifting and then returning. He had a small square in his hand, and Jamie recognized the condom. He nodded, and Arty tore it open and then stroked him hard before rolling the condom over Jamie’s aching cock.
Instantly he got the message, and he gasped before he could stop it. Arty wants me inside. That blew his mind. “Have you done this before?” Arty whispered in his ear, and Jamie rolled his head back and forth on the pillow. “Baby, you are going to love it.” Arty grabbed a bottle off the nightstand and straddled Jamie’s hips. Jamie saw his movement and felt the coolness through the latex before Arty sat back, and Jamie was surrounded by the tightest heat and pressure he could possibly imagine.
Up until now, Jamie’s encounters had been a few fumbling attempts that came to an abrupt end before they got to this sort of experience. And, man oh man, what he had been missing! Jamie swore he could feel Arty’s heartbeat, and damn, to be connected to someone else this way was mind-blowing. Arty sank deeper, and Jamie whimpered as the intensity grew. He was afraid to move, and yet instinct compelled him forward.
Arty held Jamie’s leg, and he kept as still as he could before slowly beginning to move. God, this was incredible, and he wished he could talk and tell Arty all about how he made him feel. His entire body was on fire, and his heart felt as though it were going to burst. The connection, the closeness to Arty, was nearly overwhelming, and the way Arty gave himself to Jamie only made Jamie want to give of himself in return. A union, a coupling that he wished would last forever.
Jamie held Arty’s hips as they moved. He needed to steady himself as Arty undulated above him. God, the sight, even in the dim light, of Arty’s pelvis rolling, his chest glistening and stretched as he arched back. There wasn’t enough light to see a great deal of detail, but what he could see only added to the thrill of the moment.
“Arty… I…,” Jamie whispered as Arty’s body clenched and tugged at him. It was overwhelming, and he inhaled deeply, surprised by the way Arty seemed to read him, then change things up, keeping Jamie on edge. Again and again, he thought he was getting close, and Arty would back off, only to drive him upward once more. Jamie held on to Arty for dear life and let him have control. Hell, Arty must have had legs of steel with the way he controlled their lovemaking. Jamie was seconds from begging when Arty held him tighter, pulling and tugging him toward the edge… but this time, letting him go over.
Jamie floated and let out a monster breath as calm serenity settled over him. He didn’t move, but kept his eyes closed, and just stayed in the moment for as long as it lasted. Then, and only then, did he open his eyes and tug Arty down into a kiss.
Slowly Arty lifted himself upward, and Jamie came free. He stifled an overstimulated yelp and then settled once again. Arty grabbed some tissues for cleanup while Jamie got the condom off and tied up. Arty took care of the debris and, once they were less sticky, joined him back in bed.
“Is that what you call being a power bottom?” Jamie asked, and Arty chuckled.
“I guess so.” He held him closer. Jamie didn’t move, and his eyes grew heavy once again. He now understood guys falling asleep after sex. He’d always thought the movies were kind of dumb on that part, but then he’d never met Arty and his own particular brand of athleticism. “Go to sleep. We have work to do in the morning, and we need to get ourselves back on a normal schedule.”
“Okay.” Jamie tried not to think too much about what was going on right now and where all this was going. Oh, he wondered, but he was too content and happy to examine it too closely. He knew things couldn’t be as perfect as he thought they were right at that moment. But he’d enjoy it while it lasted.
“REGINALD, HAVE you got all your gear, and Beck’s, off the boat?” Arty asked the following afternoon when he and Jamie met the older man at the White Pelican. Arty had cut checks for each of them, with their share of the profit from the trip. Jamie had no idea if what he received was good, but Reginald seemed impressed, and even Beck didn’t make any snide remarks.
“Yes. It’s all off and we cleaned up as well. You should be good to go out again whenever you’re ready. Do you have a crew?” Reginald asked. “Beck is returning home to Tampa, and I’d go out again, but that last trip was more than this old body can do anymore.”
Arty extended his hand, and Reginald shook it. “You did a great job, and we all made it work. I fully understand. I’ll post that I’m looking for two people, and I suspect I won’t have much trouble this time around.”
“I’ll go out with you,” a voice said from one of the other tables.
“I’d be glad to have you, Katherine,” Arty said with a smile. “Now, I just need one more.”
“I’ll go,” a man said, and Arty nodded. He seemed to know both of them and turned back to the table, clearly pleased.
“I’m planning on Monday. I’m sure both of you know the drill, but we’ll meet here on Friday to finalize details.” Both of them nodded, and Arty’s face practically split into a grin as he turned back to Beck and Reginald. “Thank you again for all your help. Have a safe trip back home.”
Beck shrugged and was already standing. “My vacation time is up this week, and my wife wants to have some time together before I go back to work.” Arty shook his hand as well as Reginald’s, and then the two of them left. Arty seemed relieved.
“I was hoping that would happen,” Arty said softly. “Beck is a good enough guy, but I don’t want to go out with him again. It’s one thing to be straight, but another to be closed-minded and adversarial. He got the job done, I’ll say that for him, but….”
Jamie nodded. “I wasn’t very comfortable around him either.” Jamie glanced at Katherine and the other man. “What about them?”
“Katherine is cool. We went to school together, just like everyone else around here. We were good friends. She and her wife live a few miles away. And Lyle is a great all-around hand, and let’s just say that he bats for the same team. But he doesn’t think anyone knows, so we don’t mention it.” Arty smiled.
“I see. So….”
Arty leaned over the table. “It will be like last time. We’re working, so no fooling around. We’ll just have to get it out of our systems before we leave.” Arty winked, and Jamie felt his temperature rise within seconds.
“Is it okay if I join you?” Katherine asked and moved over from where she was seated alone. “I was serious.”
“So am I. I’ll be glad to have you. I know you can do the work. Jamie here cuts good bait and has learned some of the basics. While he provides excellent support, someone with your experience is going to be very welcome. I have the exact locations of the places where we had good luck, and the fish will have had a chance to migrate in again, so we can check those areas and a few others that might look good.”
“Hopefully, your luck will hold,” Katherine said, and Arty nodded. “People who fish for a living are very superstitious,” she said to Jamie.
“Yes, I understand. Arty has already informed me that there are no bananas on board the boat. Though why, I don’t understand.” Jamie snickered.
Katherine got this mischievous look on her face. “I think it was because of sailors and their reputations on long ocean voyages. You know, no phallic fruit to make people think of the bugger
y going on belowdecks and all that.”
Jamie tried to keep from guffawing and nearly failed. He figured he was going to like her a lot. “Is there anything we need to do to prepare for this next trip?” he asked Arty.
“No. Just outfit the boat. Katherine, let me know if there are any special foods you might want, and coordinate it with Lyle here. We eat a lot, but it’s pretty basic. I’m sure you know that. I’m really hoping this can be a quick trip, but of course, that’s up to the fish and the weather more than anything else.” Arty ordered some of the wonderful grouper bites and a round of drinks. Lyle joined them after a while, and the four of them got acquainted and talked over the run.
“Say, Katherine. Do you still have your father’s old cabin cruiser?” Arty asked.
“Sure. I’ve been working to restore the old girl. She’s looking pretty wonderful now. Why?”
Arty glanced at Jamie. “I was wondering if I could borrow it for a day. I’d like to take Jamie out for a little fun. Fishing is a completely different experience from just enjoying being out on the water. I was thinking I could take it up Longboat Key, maybe stop and have lunch somewhere, and come back. The weather forecast is sunny and calm.”
She nodded, reached into her pocket, pulled a key off her ring, and handed it to Arty. “Go ahead. I know you’ll take good care of her. I don’t get to take her out as much as I’d like, and it would be good for her to get used.” She winked, and Jamie wondered what that was for. “You two have a good time.”
Jamie tried not to blush and failed. But Arty didn’t pause too much, and he went into his plans for the run and all the things that had to be done. He had arranged for a lot of it already, but there were still a few things left that he assigned to Lyle and Katherine to take care of. By the time the food had arrived, they had things worked out, with a plan to finalize everything on Friday. Another run, another chance to make some money, and Jamie was one step closer to going to New York with Arty. That was the prize he kept his eye on. A new life and maybe, if he was lucky, a new love to go along with it.
