A Much Younger Man - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,32
in the worst possible light.”
Rico took that opportunity to talk. “Like you noticed.”
Beck stopped by Rico’s cage to say hello.
“You can take him out.” Rico had been a little subdued, which was normal for him when it rained hard, but Beck soon brought him out of his shell. Rico sat on Beck’s shoulder and mostly postured while they chattered.
“Boop,” I called out.
“Boop,” Rico echoed.
I had to admit, if I hadn’t been so socially out of my depth with Beck, if I hadn’t been expecting some kind of angle, the things he said about filling voids might have warmed my heart. How often had I talked simply because someone seemed interested in what I had to say? I thought I filled conversational voids, but maybe the void had been inside me all along.
“You’re saying that you like to make people feel good about themselves?”
“Don’t you?” he asked defiantly.
Did I? “I confine most of my efforts to animals.”
Beck called Callie to him, knelt, and rubbed his cheek against hers. To Rico’s dismay, Callie then spent considerable time sniffing around him. I tensed, but nothing happened.
“You’re terrific with animals,” said Beck. “Who made you believe people can’t be trusted?”
“Nobody had to make me believe.” I used air quotes. “People lie. Animals don’t.”
“Don’t they?” Beck narrowed his eyes. “Or do they just lie for different reasons?”
Who was the vet here? “No, of course they don’t.”
“Animals play dead. They avoid contact if they’re afraid even when they really want company. They hide their pain.”
He had a point. “That last one’s reflexive. Prey animals’ lives depend on appearing healthy and in control.”
“Right, because the weakest is easily picked off. But it’s a kind of lie, isn’t it?”
“Okay. I concur. Dogs do not always say what they mean.”
“Ha, ha. Please listen to me. Animals lie to protect themselves.”
God, he was right. All animals lied to protect themselves. And if he knew that, and had spotted me doing it…lying was pointless, wasn’t it? How long had it taken for a man half my age to teach me something I should have learned long ago?
Still stuck in my head, I got place settings but put them on the counter instead of the table. We could eat casually that late at night. I put bowls of corn chips, shredded cheese, chopped onion, and sour cream out so he could doctor his soup however he liked.
“Shawn says people should learn to listen with their hearts. That’s how you hear what the animals tell you, isn’t it?”
Hmm. “Shawn is very wise.”
“He’s amazing,” Beck agreed happily. “Him and Cooper both.”
I turned to face him. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Beck. I don’t know what to do with compliments. I might have overreacted.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His lips curved into a dazzling smile.
I turned away in order to ladle soup into our bowls. Also, I had to catch my breath.
Beck watched me carefully as I picked up my bowl and added handfuls of extras. He didn’t touch his bowl.
“That’s how you like it?” he asked.
“This is the only way to eat chicken tortilla soup. Here.” And there I was, gathering a spoonful from my bowl and offering it to him. Did I want him to take it or tell me to stop acting like we were in some skeevy soft-core porn film? As he had before, he opened his mouth and let me feed him.
A sensual explosion began in my cock and ripped through me, heating my entire body.
God, I really did have a new kink. One I’d never even considered before. Or if I had, I’d never acted on it in my life. This was a revelation of the ambiguous variety. Was it a good thing or a bad thing discovering so late in life that hand-feeding someone turned my crank so hard?
Beck swiveled on the stool, knees going to one side and then the other while he licked his lips with slow precision. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was…adorable.
“You like feeding me,” he announced with a wicked grin.
I couldn’t speak, so I settled for staring at his lips like some demented sociopath. I’d already said I wasn’t awesome with compliments. Maybe I wasn’t awesome with the bare-naked truth either.
“You want to know a secret?” His question sounded rhetorical. He didn’t give me time to answer anyway. “Tug’s a goddamn genius at figuring out other people’s kinks.”
I cleared my throat. “Is he?”
“I’m sure that’s how he always knew how to spot a mark. I know you think