Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Okay,” Jack said. “Maybe I could stop by tomorrow evening. I’ll give you a call before I come. If that’s convenient for you.”
Convenient? What had just happened? Where did the incredible sweetness and intensity they’d shared disappear to? Why was Jack’s expression so closed? His demeanor so guarded?
Unable to get past what was probably just a defensive posture on Jack’s part, Will felt himself stiffening in turn. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, watching helplessly as Jack turned away.
~*~
Jack drove slowly along the road, his mind lost in thought. He wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down but he knew he was largely responsible for it. Why had he lied about a job? He had no wood to pick up or deliver. He had no deck job.
He’d been watching Will eat a muffin, licking a crumb from his fingertip. The gesture had somehow struck Jack as intensely erotic. He had forced himself to remain in his chair, casually sipping his coffee, instead of leaping across the table to grab Will’s hand and suck the finger he’d just had in his mouth.
He felt raw and incredibly vulnerable. Every nerve ending was alive and screaming from the amazing night they’d shared. It was the first time in his life he’d experienced such intensity. Beyond the sexual aspect, beyond the incredible physical pleasure, was something deeper, and much more frightening.
Jack Crawford was falling in love.
And the thought scared the living shit out of him.
Here he was, a forty-four-year-old widower with two grown sons. Sons who would be shocked, maybe even horrified, to discover their dear old dad was a queer.
Was he?
Am I gay?
When Will kissed him, he responded. Not just with his mouth, but with every fiber of his being. He came alive beneath Will’s touch. His cock raged, throbbing and aching for Will’s caress. Was it just Will, per se? Or did he love men instead of women? Well, in addition to women. He’d loved Emma. He’d been sexually aroused by her. How else could he have had sex with her for so many years? He’d never been turned off by her, or by any woman. He liked to look at pictures of naked women in the girly magazines as much as the next guy.
But this was different.
What was different, exactly? What was it that made this so much more intense? It wasn’t just the newness of it. It wasn’t just the novelty of touching and being touched by another man in such an intimate way. It was the emotional connection. That’s what was different.
Is that, he wondered, what truly defines our sexual orientation? Whom we connect with emotionally? Though it seemed almost disloyal to Emma to admit it, he felt more of an emotional connection to Will than he ever had with her. Thinking back over the long years, he’d never felt so connected to someone, except maybe Luke…another man…
These thoughts and feelings, though not as well articulated at the time, had assailed him this morning as Will and he sat down together at the table. What in God’s name was he doing, falling in love like a teenager? Because, while he knew Will was having fun now, there was no way Will could ever love him back. Oh, he might think he was in love for a week or even a month. But if Will’s past love life was any indication, the thrill might quickly fade. He had admitted in several of their long, intimate conversations about their lives that he had never had a committed, sustained relationship with anyone, male or female.
Why should Jack have any reason to believe this time was different? Jack knew he shouldn’t fool himself. He was nothing special. He wasn’t particularly good-looking. He wasn’t young. He certainly wasn’t rich. No, the only thing he could offer Will at this point was the kick Will might get from initiating a novice lover in the ways of homoerotic play.
What a funny story to tell his buddies at the gym, to whisper to a young lover as they laughed in bed together. The thought sickened Jack. Sitting at the table with Will he had felt himself becoming defensive and angry, even though he knew he was only reacting to his own crazy, tortured thoughts.
Thus he made up the story about a job, as a way to save face for them both. He would make a graceful escape before Will had the chance to send him away.
Yet he hadn’t shut the door all the way, had he? He’d said he’d be able to see Will tomorrow, after he finished his nonexistent job for the day. Even if this meant little or nothing to Will, Jack found he couldn’t let it go—not yet.
At least Will hadn’t said he was busy. Jack even fancied he saw a look of confused pain flash over Will’s face when he’d said he had to get going. Maybe all of this really was just in Jack’s head. Maybe he was being totally unfair.