A Much Younger Man - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,23
need new strings.”
“I meant to get around to that. There are some in the case.”
“Oh. Awesome. Got a dishtowel or a microfiber cloth?” As if he couldn’t help himself, he laid the instrument on the coffee table like a surgical patient.
“Yeah.” I tossed him a clean one from the drawer where I kept them. “Need wire cutters?”
“I have tools in my case.” He hopped up to get it. “I hope I do anyway.”
“I didn’t know to check.”
“We’re…good. Thanks.” He seemed relieved as he got his tools and began the work of restringing my guitar.
“I think you’re to guitars what I am to stray animals.”
“You have to make sure they’re in working order?”
“Something like that.” I cut an avocado and added that, along with diced tomatoes, canned beans, and sweet corn to the salad mix then tossed it with a simple lime vinaigrette dressing.
Since Beck was consumed with his work, I took the time to heat some bread sticks.
When everything was ready, I set the table for two with water for both of us. Rico went back to his perch in his cage. I half expected him to complain, because I often ate with him perched on my shoulder like some tragic, lonely pirate. Instead, I put his cage on the other end of the table and left it open so he wouldn’t feel left out.
When Beck was done winding all the strings on, he glanced up. “Hey, you should have told me you were ready. I can tune it after we eat.”
“It’s okay. I like watching you work. You obviously know your way around a guitar.”
“I’ve changed hundreds of strings. Thousands, maybe, because I always did it for the posers at school.”
“Like me, you mean?”
“Nah. Are you?”
“With a guitar? Yes. Yes, I’m a total poser.”
He laughed. “It’s not for everyone.”
“The problem is guys like you make it look so easy.”
“Ten thousand hours. Isn’t that what they say?” He came into the kitchen to wash his hands. Callie followed and found the water dish.
Beck leaned over the Crock-Pot. “Mm. Smells so good.”
I picked up the ladle and poured some chili onto a clean spoon.
“Try it. Does it need more salt?”
He caught my hand to steady it, and when he sipped from the spoon, our gazes locked. Everything around us disappeared, just like the first day on the beach when I’d watched him take food from Tug’s hand. His obvious enjoyment caused my heart to race and my groin to tighten—except this time the person feeding him was me.
Why, oh why did the act of feeding him smash all my boundaries?
Was it an unexplored kink?
Had food play always lurked there in the background, waiting for the right guy?
I would never have considered feeding Nick. The idea would have seemed ridiculous to both of us. But with Beck, I felt nothing weird at all, nothing out there or taboo. The contentment of feeding him—of nourishing him—was why I cared way more than I should about him.
Wait. Was it some paternal-type yearning? God no.
If it was, then I had to be the most fucked-up human ever.
I could totally envision him opening his mouth for my cock in the same way he opened for the spoon—sweetly, almost reverently, and with that implicit trust.
I gasped and let the spoon clatter to the floor between us.
“You okay?” he asked.
If I was embarrassed before, I was mortified now. “Yeah. I just realized…I forgot something at work.”
“Oh.” His gaze dropped to Callie and he laid his hand on her neck. “Okay.”
“We should set the pot on the table and serve from there if you don’t mind being informal. Can you take the salad in while I get a trivet?”
“Sure.” He picked up the bowl and carried it out with Callie plodding along after. I followed with the chili.
“This is nice.” He waited while I dished us up two big bowls.
“It is nice,” I agreed. “I don’t get a lot of company.”
“Why’s that?” He took a sip of water.
“A lot of my friends live in Southern California, and I guess I’ve developed a habit of meeting my St. Nacho’s friends in town for drinks. I don’t have a lot of free time.”
“Boop,” Rico said.
Callie didn’t pay much attention to him when he was loose, but she was interested now. She had to sniff all around his cage, and he wasn’t too happy about it.
Beck said, “Stop, Callie.”
“She can’t hurt him while he’s in his cage.”
“I don’t want her to freak Rico out.” He told Callie to lie down and she