Jude in Chains by K.Z. Snow

Author:K.Z. Snow [Snow, K. Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: m/m romance, Contemporary
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2010-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

ANOTHER weird mealtime. Two of the men were loquacious. Three were withdrawn. Jude fell into the latter group. I answered, with pleasant civility, whatever questions I was asked. Nobody brought up the issue I’d raised in class. Nobody would’ve dared.

Funny, but I was developing the ability to read the men’s faces—their eyes, especially. I could tell which guys seemed to resent my presence, and I could tell that dislike extended beyond my immediate group.

I couldn’t fault them for it. These thirty-five men had come here because they desperately wanted to believe in the bizarre miracle promised by Stronger Wings. I’d implied the miracle was a sham, even a dangerous sham. Their attitude toward me may have been a case of blaming the messenger, but I understood.

As we headed back to South Lodge following our post-lunch break, a guy named Ashton Perry posed a question. I’d never had occasion to talk with him; he was in a different mentor group. An adorable, blond young man no older than twenty-one or -two, Ashton was slender, about five-ten, and a teensy bit effeminate. But the pure perfection of his ass couldn’t be concealed by even the cheapest, Chinese-made cargo pants.

Whereas Jude had a great man-ass, Ashton had the quintessential twink-ass. I greatly enjoyed looking at both.

“What are we supposed to do if we can’t stop wanting men?” he asked no one in particular.

“I guess you’re supposed to ignore the desire,” I answered a little too wryly.

Of course I couldn’t say what I wanted to say: You’ll never be able to stop wanting men. You were born gay. The Stronger Wings philosophy is moronic in the extreme, so just fucking ignore it and put that pretty rear of yours to good use.

“Don’t ever act on it,” threw in a middle-aged, tattooed guy named Bret or Bart. I couldn’t remember which it was and didn’t want to peer at his nametag. “Then maybe the wanting will go away.”

“Focus on godliness, cultivating your godliness,” offered Franklin Faylon. He was one of the guys who didn’t seem to like me, maybe because I was part of the secular media. “That’s what I’ve been doing. I hope it will give me the willpower I need to resist temptation.”

“I’m not sure I know what godliness is,” said Ashton, endearingly befuddled.

Ed Imhof, another hater of me, leaned into the conversation from the outskirts of the loosely streaming pack. “Try to start dating a good-looking, good-hearted woman too.” He was serious.

“I’ve never been attracted to a female,” Ashton confessed miserably. “Not for a second. I wouldn’t know how to make love to a woman. I’m not even sure I could stomach it.”

His last sentence made me cough out laughter before I could squelch my amusement. Four or five guys looked at me. “Maybe your mentor will clue you in,” I said, trying on a more sober face. “In fact, isn’t there a Joys of Hetero Sex seminar scheduled?”

“Not until next week. I won’t be here next week.” Staring at his feet, Ashton shuffled along for maybe ten more yards before addressing me again.

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