Spurs by Jules Dixon

Author:Jules Dixon [Dixon, Jules]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Grayson

I was on the porch when Izaac’s truck pulled up next to the barn. He adjusted his ball cap when he stepped out of his truck, and the darkness under his eyes worried me. Had he spent the night at Tenn’s? Kota was a cool guy, but listening to his brother getting it on all night with another guy seemed a stretch. But Kota wasn’t one that stayed lonely for long either. Even in this small town, he could have his pick of girls and a new one any night he wanted, and being a bartender tended to have benefits of access and willingness. Not that he’d take advantage of anyone, he just wouldn’t refuse a sober pretty girl.

If Izaac saw me he pretended he hadn’t and opened the barn to get his day started. I needed to get showered and ready to meet Dr. Billings. Driving was going to be difficult with my injured ankle, and I was concerned that I’d be making that appointment with the orthopedic surgeon if it didn’t feel better today. Plus, I really needed to get back out running. Mom’s anxiety-coping mechanism wasn’t so much distributing food anymore. Now it was force-feeding an addiction. Everyone in the house moved gingerly as every butter-filled, sugar-covered and carb-loaded morsel weighed on us and caused mood swings of happy to crabby. Even meager portions made me want to hit the treadmill for hours.

****

I almost fell asleep in the shower. The water rolled down my back, searing heat across my shoulders as I rested on the bench in my parents’ shower. My shoulder really wasn’t as painful, and after I removed the ankle air cast, I placed weight on the foot and the pain wasn’t anywhere near what it was yesterday.

After Tenn’s call and seeing the swaggering cowboy this morning, I wasn’t sure where Izaac and I stood. Good friends? That was ludicrous. I wasn’t the casual kind, as much as I believed I wanted to be. My heart was fully connected to both my head and my cock. Holston was trying to remind me of that when he said maybe I should take it slow. Slow? I’d screamed from one guy to the next, and the only regret I had was that I hadn’t told him how I was feeling, to stop him from seeing Tenn.

I grabbed the washcloth and squirted a dollop of shower gel onto the wet material, lathering my body and stopping when my hand trailed between my legs. If just thinking about the hazel-eyed Texas two-stepper got me this hard, that meant my dick and heart were having a conversation that involved less talking and demanded more action.

I loved masturbating. Wasn’t afraid to admit it. Self-love was my go-to anxiety release. Lots of people could learn a thing or two about outlets for their worries.

With my good arm, I worked my hard cock with a soapy hand, the slick friction reminding me of how his mouth had surrounded me. My head lolled

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