Read Horizons Online

Authors: Mickie B. Ashling

Horizons (9 page)

I put my arm around her shoulder and hugged her. “You’re a great girl, Nik, and a good friend. You should have no problem finding someone you deserve. Let’s lighten up on the phone calls and the visits, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, dubiously.

My decision had ruined the evening, and her reaction had destroyed what little appetite I had to begin with. We ate like robots, weighed down by her melancholy.

 

 

“C
LARK
, it’s Mom.”

I had the phone up to my ear, after being jarred awake by the incessant ringing.

“I know who this is. Jesus, Mom, do you have to call so fucking early?”

“Don’t be disrespectful!”

“Sorry.” I groaned, wishing I could throw the phone up against the wall.

“Your brother had the baby.”

“You mean Linda had the baby.”

“It’s another boy,” she moaned, disappointment echoing in her voice.

“It’s just as well, Mom. She’d have grown up a tomboy with all the men in her life.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

“Just trying to make you feel better.” I rolled over and smashed the pillow against my morning boner.

“Can you come home and see them?”

“What day is it?”

“It’s Thursday.”

“I’ll come for the weekend. I can’t leave today; I have a session with the doctor.”

“What doctor? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I already told you, the guy who’s tutoring me is a doctor.”

“I forgot he was a doctor.”

“He’s a friend, who also happens to be a doctor.”

“Is this working?”

“I’m actually learning something.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart. So, I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

We disconnected, and I lay there, trying to return to sleep. It eluded me though, now that I was awake and, more importantly, thinking of Jody again. I hadn’t seen him since the night of the twisted ankle, but there had been no phone call canceling our session, so I assumed that everything must be okay.

I rolled over again, hugging the body pillow, pressing against the soft fabric and humping it slowly, imagining Jody’s ass underneath me. I had no idea what that would feel like, but I could only imagine that it would be good. Everything about Jody seemed so right. It was getting harder and harder to push the images away, especially when we were together.

The more I got to know him, the more I was drawn to his quiet confidence. He was so easy to talk to, fun to be around. He wasn’t high maintenance like a lot of people I knew; it was effortless and so good. I think the best part about him was that he knew nothing about football. I felt that he actually saw me, Clark Stevens, regular guy.

 

 

I
PULLED
into the driveway at Jody’s house and killed the engine. He’d probably be pissed at me ’cause I hadn’t done my homework. I couldn’t get past chapter seven for some reason. It was probably because I had a lot more on my mind than Shangri-La. The urge to tell Jody what I felt distracted me to no end. I couldn’t get it out of my head, and I wondered if today I would finally have the guts to say something.

I got out of the car just as he opened the front door. He stood there with a big grin on his face, wearing the black biker shorts with a white tank top this time. I was surprised again by his well-developed chest and arms. He had the physique of a gymnast, and the golden tan only enhanced his looks. It was hard not to stare, so I focused my attention on the elastic bandage wrapped around his ankle.

“You’re standing on your foot. That’s a good sign?”

“Yup.”

“No Lil?”

“Nah, he’s gone back to the city.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Hey!”

“I know,” I said, throwing up my arm in a mock stop sign. “He’s a great guy.”

“He is.”

“He’s also outrageous!”

“That too.” Jody laughed.

“I can’t believe he’s your best friend,” I said, standing in front of him. He looked up at me with those Tootsie Roll eyes and smirked, bringing forth that dimple that made him look so fucking cute.

“You got a problem with it, Mister?”

“And what if I do?” I said, moving my face that much closer.

“I may have to discipline you.”

“You think so?”

I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder, amused at his feeble attempts to escape. He was pounding me on the back and calling me a big lug. “Now what was that again about disciplining me?” I asked as I put him down, feeling his body slide against me, rubbing in all the right places.

We stood there looking at each other, clearly wanting to take this further, but no one willing to make the first move. I knew I had a raging hard-on, and I imagined he did too. We were both breathing heavily, and it wasn’t from the minor exertion of carrying him around. My face felt like it was on fire. He ran his tongue around his lips, a habit of his that never failed to make my blood boil. I had this horrible urge to grab his head and kiss him.

“You’re rocking my world without even trying,” I confessed, feeling all kinds of stupid.

“Clark?”

I spun away from him and crossed over to the other side of the room, kicking my book bag, which I’d dropped when I’d slung him over my shoulder. I sat at the table in an attempt to hide the boner straining against my pants. It was bad enough that I had to have a tutor, but I would be damned if I was going to let him see that I was lusting after him, like some pathetic fourteen-year-old schoolboy.

He remained where I’d left him, a pained look on his face.

“Well, are we going to study or what?” I asked, slamming a book on the table.

Chapter 8

 

I
SPED
up I-80, heading out to Folsom. I’d been in a miserable mood since I left Jody last night.

We’d sat for an hour, attempting to read through a few chapters, but the dynamic between us had changed after the close body contact. We were like two prizefighters, tiptoeing around each other, afraid to meet in the center of the ring for fear of the explosion that would occur. He must have been able to tell I was at my breaking point, as I clenched and unclenched my jaw the entire time we were reading. I couldn’t bear to look at him, and when his hand accidentally brushed mine, we both jumped in shock.

It was torture in the most erotic, mind-bending way. I would have probably disgraced myself if he touched me again, and so I just stood up, kicked back the chair, and told him I had to go. He sat there and nodded, looking the other way. I knew he was as affected as I was because his hands were trembling when he held the book and his eyes were shimmering.

I pulled into my parents’ driveway, completely unaware of the distance I’d traveled. The house seemed unoccupied, and I yelled out for Mom, getting no response.

Hunger seized me suddenly. I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten, so I pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed the essentials of a sandwich—the cold cuts, the mayo and mustard—and a bottle of Corona, balancing everything like a circus juggler. By the time I’d polished off my lunch, the troops were starting to arrive.

“Dude, when’d you get in?” Zach grunted out, looking like he’d been through a war.

“What’s with you?”

“I’ve been out helping Robby lay carpet in the baby’s room.”

“Talk about last minute.”

“I know.”

“Did you get it done?”

“It’s all good. Are you staying the night?”

“May as well.”

“Is Nikki with you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”

“You’re lucky to have her, dude. She’s hot as fuck!”

“We’re just friends.”

“What a dumbass!”

“Don’t call me that!” I spat out, just itching for a fight. I hoped he’d say it again, because I was in the mood to break something, and his face was as good as anything.

“What the hell is going on?” My dad had just walked through the door and caught my end of the conversation.

“Tell Zach to mind his own business.”

“Why are you in such a foul mood?”

“I’m just tired of people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.”

“Like who?”

“Like never mind!”

I stood up and walked out of the room, making my way down the hall toward my bedroom. I threw myself on the bed and put my right arm over my eyes, willing myself to calm down. I knew I’d overreacted to Zach’s few questions. I knew why I was in such a state, and it had nothing to do with anyone in this house.

After a few minutes, I heard a light knock on the door, and my mom popped her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Why the fuck not.

She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her hand up and down my leg. “What’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, Mom.”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’re in one of your moods again, and I really don’t want any problems this weekend.”

“Then tell Zach to leave me alone. Tell everyone to leave me alone and get out of my business. You included.”

“What the hell have I done?”

“Nothing! Just go, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetie, is it Nikki? Have you two had a fight?”

“Oh, please, give me a break.”

“What then?”

“Nothing. Just go!”

“Fine!” She stood and walked out the door, slamming it in a childish fit of temper.

It’s funny that she would accuse me of having a “mood.” Everyone around here was into door slamming and yelling. We were not the most peaceful household in the world, and I suppose with five sons, any gentleness in my mother was soon replaced by the need to be as tough as nails so that her boys wouldn’t ride roughshod over her. The only time she showed her gentle side was when we got sick or hurt. The rest of the time she was all business, which brought my thoughts back to something I’d questioned many times before.

Why did I have these feelings for other men? It’s not like my mother dressed me in pink or played with tea sets around me. I was handled in exactly the same manner as my other brothers, except for the special attention to my schoolwork. Maybe it had something to do with the ADD? Was that same gene the one that made me think about guys the way my brothers thought about women?

I wondered what Jody would think of my family. He already disliked my father for the mishandling of my attention deficit. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up in a family as accepting as Jody’s. For a father to actively educate a gay son about safe sex was mind-boggling. Neither one of my parents had given us any sex education. They just assumed we knew what we were doing. The only time I heard anything about sex was when Magic Johnson resigned due to his HIV status and my father sat in front of our TV set and called him a fucking queer. He then turned to us and said, “See, this is what happens when you stick your dick in the wrong places.” The fact that Johnson contracted HIV from a female meant nothing to my dad. He heard HIV, and he assumed Magic was queer.

I was around ten or eleven at the time, already harboring a few man fantasies, and as soon as I heard that I shoved them so far back in the closet they were buried for years. All my efforts to be “normal” in that area of my life were successful due to the countless number of females who threw themselves at me. Every time I’d start thinking of a male body, I’d actively seek out a female or watch a girly video or read
Playboy
; anything to keep the visions of men out of my brain.

This brought me to the real reason why I was so angry I was vibrating in place. All my efforts to be like all the other men in my family were useless, because I wasn’t like them. I was a twenty-two-year-old jock on the brink of an NFL career, daydreaming about kissing Jody on the mouth. In truth, I wanted way more. What would he taste like? Would he let me run my hands over his chest and down his abs, and finally grip that hard-on that had pressed up against me on at least two occasions? I imagined sinking down on my knees in front of him, sliding the zipper down his khakis, and freeing his cock. I was certain it would be as perfect as the rest of him. Could I handle him without gagging? Did spunk taste sweet or salty? What about swallowing? Oh God…. I was so fucking hard I had to get off. I flipped over and pressed my monster cock against the mattress, knowing this would never happen because I was too chickenshit to do anything about it.

 

 

J
ODY
puttered around his garden with a hedge clipper, pretending to know what to do, but utterly clueless. He was really killing time, waiting for Clark to come and start the tutoring. He’d left work early, knowing this was a teaching night, wanting to shower and change before Clark’s arrival. He knew he was acting like a lovesick teenager getting ready for a date, but he couldn’t help it. His brain was so far up his ass these days, it’s a wonder he hadn’t accidentally killed a patient at work.

He hoped that Clark would be in a better mood tonight. The last time they were together, Jody finally got a glimpse of the famous temper that seemed to rule Clark’s life. He was visibly shaken by their roughhousing and unable to stay focused on the reading. He’d left in under an hour, avoiding Jody’s gaze and shying away from his touch.

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