Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Dustin’s reply came quickly. How are you holding up? Sleeping?
Wes shut his bedroom door, before hitting the call button. “Too tired to type,” he said when Dustin picked up. As he’d figured, Dustin was at the condo, probably finishing his dinner judging by his place on his couch. His hair was damp, suggesting he’d showered when he’d come in from base.
“Hey. Let me grab a shirt?” Dustin brushed at his bare chest.
“Oh, don’t go messing with my view,” Wes joked. “I’m here in my childhood room, with only old pictures of Michael Phelps mixed in with all my triathlon stuff to keep me company.”
“Awww. You got a row of trophies?” Dustin didn’t seem in any hurry to get a shirt, which suited Wes just fine. He moved the phone so Dustin could have a view of the room.
“Right there. My dad had to build a second shelf for them.” Wes zoomed in on the shelves then moved the camera to show the rest of the room—full-size bed in the corner under the trophy shelves, desk, and the aforementioned Michael Phelps posters. Oh and the Dierks Bentley poster on the door. Couldn’t forget that.
“Cute. Am I the first guy you’ve had in here?” Dustin laughed before taking a drink of a beer he had next to him.
“Nope. Sorry.” Wes smiled at the camera like a loon. He appreciated how Dustin always seemed to know when he needed the distraction of conversation that wasn’t about Sam and her health. They were coasting down a very slippery slope, all these conversations and messages, but hell if he could stop now. “Thank God, my mom’s asleep downstairs so she can’t hear me tell you that I lost my virginity in that bed with the catcher on our baseball team. We made our way around all the bases my senior year.”
“Lucky catcher. I lost mine in the back seat of a Neon.”
“That must have been a tight squeeze.” Wes stretched out on the bed, moving the camera back so he could see Dustin’s face. “And you never fooled around with a friend or anything before that? A guy I mean?”
“No.” Dustin sighed and scrubbed at his hair. “Too...something. Feels like it took me longer than most people to figure things out. I was eighteen and the summer before I left for the Academy before I even kissed a girl. I lied to all my buddies that it had happened way sooner than that. Went all the way with her on the Fourth of July because it felt like that was what she wanted from me.”
“Wow. Nice fireworks.” Wes wasn’t sure what to add, but he wanted to keep Dustin talking. “But you didn’t notice guys around school or anything?”
“I was at the Academy first time I got attracted to a guy. Apollo and I were out in DC, newly twenty-one and at a pretty mixed bar. Apollo was chatting this guy up, when all of a sudden it hit me that I wanted him too. He was holding on to Apollo’s arm with this big hand, and man, I wanted that hand on me.”
“And what happened after that?” Wes’s own hand itched, wishing it could run all over Dustin’s body.
“Apollo got bored of him, and I never saw him again. And I spent a lot of years trying to sort myself out.” Dustin made a face and took another swig of his beer. “I’m sure that doesn’t make a lot of sense to you. You probably knew exactly what you liked, in bed I mean, even back then with your catcher guy?”
“Ha.” Wes laughed at the memory. “Not hardly. He fucked me. Even with months of concerted effort on my part, he never let me do him. And even then, trust me, no one was tying anyone to the bed. I might have been more clear about who I wanted in bed with me, but it’s taken me some time to admit what really gets my crank going.”
“The bossy stuff?” Dustin’s eyes were tense, but he sank down into the couch cushions. “I guess I thought it would be easier for you since that’s what people expect. People think SEAL and they think...what does Dylan always call it...toppy? They think, ‘Oh yeah, that guy likes to be in charge.’ It’s harder, liking something...different.”
“But not wrong.” Wes wished he could reach through the phone, give Dustin a hug. “And no, it’s not always easier. I’m supposed to be a nice guy. It wasn’t the easiest to accept the part of me that really gets off on putting the hurt on someone.”
“I like it when you do.” Dustin’s whisper was hard to hear through the phone. “Like it so much that it scares me.”
“Me too,” Wes whispered back, fingers digging into his thigh with the need to touch Dustin.