SCOTT STARED at his computer screen at the blinking cursor and cursed it. Sharon had given him great suggestions, but it involved a seven-chapter rewrite. He’d stayed home to work, but couldn’t stop thinking of Phin.
Never in all his life had sex been so amazing.
It seemed Phin’s total goal was to get Scott off.
Not that he was complaining, but it felt odd. Like Scott was being selfish. He’d probably come ten times to Phin’s four in the past few days.
Could he get dehydrated from all the sex?
After pushing his chair back, he retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it. The dirty one sitting in the sink surprised him.
That’s not like me to leave dishes….
Then again, he hadn’t really been in the house since the fight with Mom. He groaned and finished his water. That was something he wasn’t in the mood to deal with.
Had Nancy been the interfering monster his mother believed? Mom had been right to think poorly of Mike—what a jerk—but the longer he stayed in this house, the harder it was to see Nancy the way Mom painted her. He didn’t doubt the story, but if he was being honest with himself—and he was desperately trying to do that in all aspects of his life—did any of this affect Scott today?
No.
No, it didn’t.
Did that mean Scott forgave Nancy for what she’d put Mom through? And would he forgive Mom for keeping it from him? Was it possible Nancy had been both the woman Mom remembered and the woman Phin knew?
More than likely she’d been somewhere in the middle.
Sadly Scott would never know. He’d learned all the good and bad things she’d done secondhand. The only tangible truth Scott held—a truth unaffected by the influence of others—was that Nancy had changed his life.
She’d given him a house, money, a car. A chance to get out of Mom’s house to live as an adult. To learn how to be independent. And if it weren’t for Nancy, Scott wouldn’t be here in Gilead.
And he never would’ve met Phin.
No matter what Nancy had done in her past, or how Mom felt about her, Phin was the single most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Scott.
Scott would forever be grateful to Nancy for that.
Hydration attended to, he put his glass in the strainer and his gaze drifted to the window. Darkness had settled over the yard, where a mere hour ago Phin had laid him on a blanket and entered him oh so slowly. Phin’s big, hard dick had sunk inside him, over and over, while Scott’s hand matched pace on his own cock. They’d come quietly this time, gazing into each other’s eyes. With the setting sun pink around Phin, the sweet smell of grass and the chirping of insects their backdrop, and Phin’s soft belly pressing him into the earth, it had been magical. Even with the condoms, nothing lacked from their lovemaking.
Soon it would be even more intimate.
He’d made an appointment at Phin’s doctor to get a prescription for PrEP, and as soon as it was working, sayonara, condoms!
He couldn’t wait to feel Phin inside him, all of him. The warm flesh of his cock filling him, the wetness of his cum….
Scott shuddered.
Time to get back to work on your edits! Phineas Robertson with his damn sexy body was too much of a distraction. His cock hardened just thinking about those tits.
Never had Scott been so obsessed with a man’s nipples. Sure he’d written sexy nipple-sucking scenes in his books, but it had been more of a curiosity. But now it was all he could think about. That and Phin’s cock.
“God, you’re hopeless,” he said. Then, “And you’re talking to yourself again.”
Apparently, Scott was getting vocal in bed too.
Where had that habit come from?
Maybe he’d never felt comfortable enough to let go, but he enjoyed letting go with Phin. And Phin was more than eager to allow him to do so. They were both finding new things about themselves. Scott learning to explore his own wants, and Phin having a love life without thinking of Tom—God, I hope he isn’t thinking of Tom.
Scott wanted to ask but feared the answer.
Of course, Scott had thought of other men when he’d had sex before, especially if a guy was better or worse than the last one. Could Phin possibly be comparing Scott to Tom?
He felt like they were in sync, but an eleven-year relationship was hard to compete with. Scott told Phin he wouldn’t tolerate being compared with a dead man, but he couldn’t control Phin’s thoughts. At least he’d put the pictures away and never called out the man’s name during sex.
Yet.
Cursing his constant insecurities, he closed the laptop, too distracted to write.
He cared so much for Phin and hoped the feeling was mutual. But his own anxieties remained. Feelings of not being good enough, a need to please Phin so he didn’t lose him. All the same crap he didn’t want to feel but couldn’t stop. But deep within, there was also a desire to be independent, to be himself in this relationship.
Phin made it easy.
He never criticized Scott’s opinions. He took charge in bed—just the way Scott liked it—but they were equals otherwise.
He’d never thought it before, but Phin could be the One.
His phone buzzed on the kitchen table.
Davis.
Smiling, he answered. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, just bored and sitting here drinking beer all by myself. Whatcha doing?”
Scott sighed. “I’m supposed to be writing, but I can’t concentrate.”
“Too busy daydreaming about that bald bear?”
“Actually,” Scott said, a note of happiness in his voice, “we’ve been screwing like wild animals for the past three days.”
“Shut up, liar.”
“For reals,” he insisted. “It’s the best sex I’ve ever had. He’s totally in charge, but it’s like he tries to make me come two or three times to his one.”
Davis stayed quiet for a moment, and Scott heard the crack of a can. “You’re not kidding?”
“I told you I wasn’t! I guess we’re dating now. We’re gonna give this a chance. It’s been great, just so different than any other relationship I’ve had. I mean Phin has some strong opinions, but he never tries to make me have them. It’s awesome.”
“Are you just telling yourself that because the sex is so good?”
“No,” he snapped. “It was like that before the sex. The mutual respect thing just makes the sex better.”
“Huh, I’ll have to try that. So did he tell you why he was ignoring you?”
Scott sighed. “Well, he’s a widower and had to work some stuff out about that, and he’s positive, so he wasn’t sure how I’d take it.”
A long pause. “I take it you don’t mean he has a sunshiny positive disposition?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“And how did you take it?” Davis wanted to know, sounding defensive.
“I told him to hit the road,” Scott retorted. “How do you think I took it? Weren’t you listening to me when I said we’re dating?”
“You being safe?”
“We’re using condoms until I can get on PrEP, but his meds are working, and he takes care of himself. His viral count is forty-one, so it’s just a precaution.”
“Lucky him,” Davis said bitterly.
Wanting Davis to have the same success Phin did, Scott decided that the next time his family visited, he would ask Phin to talk with Davis. Maybe some advice on the benefits of a healthy lifestyle could help his brother. Davis rarely worked out and lived on junk food worse than Scott did. Having a mentor like Phin in his life could encourage Davis to take better care of his health. Lord knew Mom tried, but she also enabled a lot of his irresponsibleness.
A sudden horrible thought occurred to Scott.
If Davis talked to Phin, then Davis might tell Mom Phin was positive.
Oh gawd, the drama!
“Look, don’t you dare tell Mom about Phin,” Scott warned.
&nbs
p; “Why?” Davis sounded confused.
“You just can’t. I’m calling in the shroom story. You tell Mom, I tell everyone.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
In college, Davis did shrooms, and some rather unsettling things transpired between the two of them. Davis confessed that he loved Scott, and they made out until Scott realized he was high. Then Davis sobbed and said he would never find love because he had AIDS. He would die alone. Then he jerked off in front of Scott, saying: I’ll just marry my hand because it’s the only person that loves me. Rather than leave, Scott had stayed until he finished—because he wanted to watch—then Scott cleaned up his cum-covered, sobbing brother and put him to bed.
The next morning, they agreed the whole thing was a mistake and they should stay brothers. And never mention it again.
“I can’t believe you’d bring that up,” Davis snapped. “You know I was on shrooms and that guy I was seeing treated me like shit. I was really fucked in the head back then.”
“I’m sorry,” Scott said at once. “You know I would never tell anyone. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Damn straight you shouldn’t have.”
“Forgive me?”
“Whatever,” he said, but Scott knew he did. There was another beer cracking open. “Why the big deal not telling Mom?”
“She’ll flip her lid,” he said with a laugh. “You know how she gets.”
“I don’t understand. If you’re both safe, why would Mom care?”
Scott tamped down his irritation. “Just don’t tell her, okay? I don’t wanna deal with any more of her dramatics right now. I thought you of all people would understand.”
Davis remained quiet for a moment, then asked, “Why are you guys fighting?”
He groaned, then filled Davis in on everything, from shoebox to kidnapping.
“That’s all kinda insane, but you still need to call her and make up,” Davis insisted. “She’s moping around, thinking you aren’t coming to her birthday.”
“Yeah, that’s just what I wanna do. Go to Put-in-Bay and watch Dumbass get drunk on Mom’s dime. Besides I can’t afford it.”
Not exactly true, but it sounded believable. The popular Lake Erie party destination was on South Bass Island and only accessible by an expensive ferry ride. Not to mention the beer and food were expensive.
“You should still come. Just charge it.”
“I’ll think about it. Subject change.”
“Fine, then tell me more about this great sex you’ve been having,” Davis said. “I haven’t been laid in months. I need some new material for my spank bank.”
“No, I already told you enough. It’s personal.”
“Since when? We always share sex details.”
“I know,” he hesitated. “Phin’s a private guy. Plus, I kinda wanna keep it to myself.”
“You selfish bitch, you’re in love, aren’t you?”
He buried a giggle. “Maybe.”
“Wow, Ohio has changed you.”
Scott couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or an insult, but Davis was drinking, so he’d let it slide. “No, I don’t think so. Being here just lets me be me. I’m happy, Davis. Like happier than I’ve ever been. Phin could be the One.”
“You’re really into this guy, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He makes me a better me.”
“Wow, that’s so sweet I wanna throw up.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I’m happy for you. Just ignore me. I’m being a jealous cunt. I’m so sick of all these fuckers on Scruff and Grindr asking if I’m clean. Like I’m dirty or something.”
It broke his heart hearing Davis say stuff like that—because it was a sad truth about how guys with HIV were still treated. His brother would really benefit from a friend like Phin, Scott knew it. “You’ll find the right guy, Davis. I know it.”
“Whatever,” he said dismissively. “No one wants me besides a bunch of losers at some positive support group.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said and to Scott’s shock, Davis sniffled.
Were those tears? He could tell Davis was tipsy from the tone of his voice, but maybe he was more messed up than Scott realized. “Are you crying?”
“No,” he said far too quickly. “I’m just tired. Tired of liars and assholes. People may say that they know PrEP makes them safe, and they can pretend they aren’t even a little afraid if a guy’s viral load is undetectable, but actions speak louder than words. Hell, even you’re proof of that.”
“I am?”
“Your man’s undetectable, but you’re still wrapping it.”
A wash of guilt went through Scott because Davis had struck a nerve. Yes, he trusted Phin, but he wanted to wait to lose the condoms until after his PrEP was working. Phin had respected his decision, as he always did, but Davis was right. The fear within the community and the misconceptions about HIV were engrained deep, and guys like Davis were the victim. He wondered if Phin felt the same, and was guilty he’d never asked.
“Do you know what it feels like to have every guy I meet ask me if I’m clean?” Davis went on, his voice wobbly. “Like why do I even bother to take care of myself if they’ll always think I’m dirty? The stigma is just as bad as it’s always been.”
“I’m sorry,” Scott began.
“Forget it,” Davis cut him off. “I’m just in a pissy mood. I want you to be safe. Use rubbers till you’re on PrEP, then live happily ever after, okay?”
Scott was at a loss for words. That same hurt that had tormented Davis on that college night so long ago still burned within his best friend, and Scott hadn’t even realized it. “I love you,” he whispered. “Don’t get down on yourself. I can’t stand it. You will find somebody. And he’ll be the best ever.”
“I love you too, idiot,” Davis said with a sniff and a laugh. “But if you see this somebody, can you tell him to kick that white steed into overdrive? I’m tired of waiting.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
They chatted for another hour until Scott realized it was after 1:00 a.m. and Davis was half in the bag anyway. Scott was exhausted too and needed to call it a night. After saying goodbye, he looked out his kitchen window. Phin’s bedroom light was off, which was probably for the best. Though he wanted to go over, he needed to sleep and get up early to finish the edits. Sharon had taken a month to edit his book, but he only got a week.
Totally not fair.
Outside, something moved in the shadows.
Scott’s heart skipped, and he squinted, wondering if it was just his imagination. What if it was a coyote?
Whatever it was could see him plain as day with the glaring kitchen light, so he flipped it off, hoping the darkness would make it easier to see outside. And he felt a little safer in the dark.
Funny, but since moving out here, the darkness didn’t scare him as much as it used to.
Squinting into the night, he didn’t see anything moving.
Must’ve been my imagination.
To be on the safe side, he checked both doors. Locked.
Feeling restless. He decided to get a glass of milk before he went to bed.
He froze.
The granny doll was back on top of the fridge.
Scott blinked several times, his blood chilling.
There was no way Nancy had three of them, did she? Though she did have four toasters. Maybe Davis had put the doll there as a joke.
Yeah, that has to be it.
“Davis,” he muttered.
A strange feeling of being watched made his skin crawl, so he hastily turned the doll to face the wall. “You’re going in the trash this time.”
Taking his cell phone, Scott set an 8:00 a.m. alarm, then hastened upstairs. He was still in the guest room, but only for a little while longer. He’d ordered new sheets and bedding—one step closer to making the house his.
SCOTT WOKE bef
ore his alarm, his mind buzzing with story ideas. Not the one he was supposed to be working on, naturally. He couldn’t shake the idea of an alien with three cocks coming down to Earth and finding a sexy man with big nipples in the forest. They would fuck all night long while mystical fairies danced above them, blessing their union with magical aphrodisiac dust. His cock stiffened as he envisioned a Phin-like character getting a triple load blasted all over him as he tried in vain to suck all three huge cocks. Maybe he’d even take all of them up the ass. That would be hot….
Scott rubbed himself for a moment but decided to save it for his real Phin.
Before he lost the idea, he opened his phone and emailed himself a few paragraphs. When he was done with the Shi Knight book, he’d write this one. It had been a while since he’d done a short story and never one blending sci-fi and fantasy. He had a feeling this one would just be raw erotica, like really graphic.
He’d become bored writing sex scenes lately, but it seemed Phin had awakened his muse, and she was in the mood to be naughty!
Downstairs the sunshine brightened the cheery kitchen. He hadn’t been up this early in a while. His stomach rumbled, and he went to the fridge, ignoring the doll with her back to him. He grabbed the OJ and raised the carton to his lips, surprised there was barely any left.
I just bought this.
Tossing the carton into the trash—stupid Joe probably drank it—he started to close the fridge door but noticed two eggs on a plate. Some scrambled eggs with cheese would really hit the spot, get his creative juices flowing.
Mmmm… maybe Henrietta made her morning deposit already.
After slipping on his flip-flops, Scott headed outside. The morning was warm and muggy already. Thank the Good Lord for air conditioning.
He opened the porch door and froze.
Blood.
“Oh my God!”
Lying on his bottom step was Henrietta, her head chopped off and blood everywhere.
Chapter Twenty-Five
SCOTT’S HEART leaped in his throat.
He’d seen movement last night in the shadows. Had a coyote killed her?
No, it couldn’t have been. Phin locked the chickens up at night.
The Rhubarb Patch Page 22
