But did that make him gay? Being attracted to one man wouldn’t make him gay.
No, it wouldn’t, Boaz decided firmly as he set his phone down on the bedside table, the screen going dark. This wasn’t him. It had to be a side effect of the feeding. Nothing more. Alexander had been getting into his head, compelling him, twisting his dreams. His body had simply… gotten used to it. That was all.
“It’s nothing,” Boaz whispered to himself. “Now that I know, everything is going to be fine. The weird feelings will stop.”
But they didn’t stop.
Days later, his body didn’t feel like his own. He felt like a tangled mess of frustration and need. Every time Alexander came back to feed, something inside Boaz ignited. Heat flared through his veins, spreading fast, leaving him tense, breathless… and horny.
And as soon as Alexander left Boaz always found himself on his back, his right hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself until he came. But tonight his body burned hotter, and he couldn’t make himself come no matter how hard he stroked his cock.
“Please … please …” he whimpered, desperately moving his hand faster. Sweat gathered over his balls and a warm bead slipped free to trail slowly down his perineum, until it settled on his hole. The sensation felt oddly intense. Boaz frowned and let go of cock to brush it away. A strangled moan tore from his throat as his fingers brushed over his hole.
“Fuck. What the hell was that?” he panted, staring up at the exposed beams. Confused.
He ran his fingers over his hole again, and this time there was no mistaking his reaction.
“That feels good,” he mumbled, already spreading his thighs wide, giving himself room to reach between his cheeks. Over and over, he smoothed his fingers over his hole, rocking his hips slightly as heat pooled between his thighs. His cock grew hard as steel. His breath came in shallow gasps.
He pushed in the tip of his finger.
That was it.
He arched violently off the bed, his mouth falling open around a soundless scream as pleasure tore through him.
“Fuck…fuck…fuck…” he mumbled as he clutched his pillow to his face.
Chapter 14
Boaz
The next day, Boaz couldn’t stop thinking about it. And he couldn’t stop feeling the lingering burn in his asshole. A reminder of what he’d done.
It was embarrassing. Especially with Hansel throwing him glances every few seconds, like he was trying to piece something together.
Boaz kept his head down and focused on the task in front of him. Folding boxes. The drying room was small, the air thick with the scent of tea leaves. Boaz inhaled deeply, and released a slow breath, the earthy scent calming him.
“Are you okay?” Hansel asked after what felt like the hundredth glance. “You’ve been strangely quiet today.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Yes,” Hansel said unconvinced. “But today you’reextraquiet.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied him. “Is it because of Lyla… and the vampire?”
“No. “I’m just…” Boaz trailed off. He wasn’t ready to say it. This was new to him. He’d uncovered something about himself he hadn’t even known existed. “Thinking, I guess,” he finished finally.
“About what?”
“Things, Hansel,” Boaz said. He moved away, stepping toward the packing table.
He measured out tea leaves and poured them into bags. Behind him, he could feel Hansel’s gaze lingering. Boaz ignored it.
“Okay,” Hansel said after a moment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I was just worried about you, that’s all.”
“Don’t be.”
Before Hansel could say anything, his phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, moving toward the folding table as he spoke in low tones.
A few minutes later, Hansel returned, already putting together another order.