Chapter Seventeen
Wood
Wood waited just outside the bathroom door while Trent finished up. He’d been awake a couple of hours watching some mindless television when he heard his roommate shuffling down the hall. Last night was still on the forefront of his mind, and he’d slept on and off as he warred with himself over what he was doing. He leaned heavily against the wall and let his head fall back with a thud. Why was he doing this to himself? He’d been out of the halfway house long enough to have hit up a spot downtown and met a willing companion for a few nights. But after being around Trent for the past couple of weeks, he’d been thinking in another direction. Bishop had told him how he’d met and courted Edison when he got out instead of sleeping around. Wood had never been that type of man anyway. He always preferred one partner in his bed, a partner that was on his level.
However, he continued to wait because good things came to those who did, and the more he got to know Trent, the more pleasantly surprised he became. The man had so many layers that Wood found himself intrigued and not at all bored. The teasing and banter had been fun and had held his desires in check, but Wood was done playing. He was beginning to find Trent possessed a lot of qualities that he admired in a man. He wasn’t into drugs and heavy drinking. He really liked Trent’s work ethic, and the fact that he worked hard every day. He came home and chilled, he didn’t club all night long like a lot of his generation did. Wood smiled… but Trent did play those stupid video games.
As soon as Trent opened the door and Wood saw the pinched expression on his face, he knew something was wrong. “Hey. You okay?”
Trent nodded slowly, grimacing as he reached awkwardly behind his back. “Morning. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my…”
Wood eased in closer and wrapped his arm around Trent’s back and removed his hand from where he’d been trying to massage. “Did you hurt yourself?” Wood asked, taking over the rubbing. “God, you’re tight.”
Trent rested his forehead against Wood’s shoulder, hissing as he moved the massage a little lower. “I have a bulging disc in my lower back… and it acts up sometimes. I must’ve slept wrong again.”
“Mmm.” Wood listened as he continued to rub the firm muscles with both hands.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to fuss. It’s been like this for a while,” Trent said, staring at Wood’s throat instead of meeting his eyes. “Ahhh.”
“Feel better?” Wood murmured against Trent’s wet hair. Damn, he loved how he smelled fresh out the shower. He felt even better, tucked tightly against his chest, allowing Wood to care for him. Another layer uncovered.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Trent practically moaned. He’d been holding on to Wood’s biceps, his blunt fingertips digging into his flesh the deeper Wood’s massage got. “It… it feels really good.”
Wood eased his hands away, needing to put some distance between them or else he might not be able to control himself much longer. Trent turned and walked in front of him, and Wood noticed he had a considerable limp and was favoring his left side as if the pain was traveling down his right leg. He went to the refrigerator and bent over to get his orange juice and ended up grunting loudly, his hand snapping around to the center of his back.
Wood darted across the kitchen and gripped Trent around his hips. “Easy. Let me help you.”
Trent turned around with a tight but mischievous smirk on his plump lips. “You sure you’re just trying to help me? Because it feels like you got something else in mind.”
Wood kept one arm braced around Trent’s waist, but he allowed his other hand to roam as he did last night… and Trent didn’t stop him. He knew he’d have to feed little bits of his lifestyle to Trent at a time, since he was sure he’d only dated women, not wanting to scare him away from this side of himself. So, he smoothed his hand under Trent’s tank top and up his flat stomach to the neat patch of hair in the center of his chest. He could feel Trent’s heart beating at a rapid cadence that matched his own. Wood didn’t stop until his palm was over Trent’s throat, and he hummed happily at the way his large Adam’s apple bobbed dramatically against the restriction.
“Do you really think it’s wise to provoke a man that’s been in prison for seventeen years?” Wood growled as his dick threatened to burst through his pajama bottoms.
“I-I guess not.” Trent swallowed again.
“Then I suggest you and your hurt back go in the living room and lie down for a while and stop playing dangerously,” Wood advised.