Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,62
lyrics went directly to his core. He hoped Wood could feel it too.
Trent let the record play on a low volume, just loud enough for Wood to hear it across the hall. He got a bowl of cool water and another thick wash rag from the linen closet and settled next to Wood as he continued to fight in his sleep. “What are you dreaming about, huh?” Trent dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out enough so he didn’t make Wood wet. He folded it in half, then gently placed it in the center of Wood’s clammy forehead. The heat was turned down and the blankets were only pulled up to his waist, but he was still sweating. Trent slowly wiped away the perspiration, running the moist towel down Wood’s cheek while he fingered his soft hair away from his face.
Wood moaned as Trent dragged the cool compress down his throat, then repeatedly stroked over his Adam’s apple, becoming swept up in the intimacy. He swallowed roughly when he thought of leaning closer and licking that thick lump of cartilage he’d become fascinated with when he watched as Wood drank whole bottles of water in seconds. By the third song, Trent had got lost in his job as the music lulled him into a state of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. He concentrated on his task, meticulous in the way he caressed the bright roses decorating Wood’s thick pecs. He dipped the rag once more, unable to resist using it to slick down the sexy gray-and-black hair on his stomach, leading to his groin.
Wood appeared to be resting easier, and Trent was beyond pleased with himself. Damn, it felt good for someone to have to rely on him for a change. Ever since Bishop had found Edison, his brother no longer needed his help, not when the love of his life was more than willing to assist. Trent ran his hand along Wood’s coarse beard, cupping his cheek as he gazed down at him. And how long before you leave too? He wanted Wood up and feeling better and behaving like his old self again, but he couldn’t help but feel he wouldn’t be necessary anymore. Men like Wood got beat up by life all the time, but they never stayed down for long. He’d get what he needed from Trent… then he’d be tossed to the side when something better came along. Again.
Trent sighed, and that’s when he noticed Wood had opened his eyes and was staring drowsily at him. He gave him an encouraging smile he didn’t feel because that’s what Trent did. He faked it. He told everyone he was fine, he was okay, he just wanted to be left alone, because that’s what was easiest. Easier than getting attached and waking up to find them gone one day, vanished with no explanation as to what he’d done wrong. He tried to break the eye contact, but he couldn’t; he refused to turn away. As Otis sang to his heart about dreams to remember, Trent thought of the desires he’d had in prison of having something wonderful of his own one day. Visions of quiet days where he never got angry.
Trent didn’t move until Wood’s lids couldn’t stay open any longer and his breathing had evened out. After he closed the bedroom door, he braced his hand against the wall and stretched, trying to work out the painful knots. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket with a notification, and he was happy to see it was a text from Summer saying she was pulling into his driveway.
Trent opened the door, and his best friend rushed in with both arms loaded with Whole Foods grocery bags. She dropped them all on the dining table with a heavy thud, then shook out her arms.
Trent gaped at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I asked you to bring me a couple cans of soup, Summer. What is all this?” He dug inside one of the bags, his eyes widening. “I didn’t ask for rib eyes. Shit, I can’t pay for all this.”
She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he dug inside each bag. “Did I mention a word about paying? It sounded like you might be stuck indoors for a while, so I wanted to be sure you had what you needed. Can’t I do something nice for my friend? Is that okay?”