Forsaking Truth by Lydia Michaels Page B

This was

new territory and he didn’t know how their relationship applied to that rule.
    Didn’t matter anyway.

After today it was over. Whatever had just happened

couldn’t happen again. They’d experimented. He’d heard something once that one

out of four men had gay experiences. This was obviously his. But he wasn’t gay.

He’d merely let Tristan kiss him and blow him. That’s all it was, just another

blow job.
    Like a Filofax, his

mind shuffled through women he knew. He should go find one and fuck her brains

out. That’s what he’d do. After Tristan left, he’d shower, put his kitchen back

to rights, and later he’d go out trolling.
    He realized it was

Sunday and lamented not many people would be hanging

out at O’Malley’s. That was all right. He’d call someone. As a matter of fact,

he’d call Tiffany. She’d come over. He’d fuck her on every hard and soft

surface he could find, and then he’d parade her in front o f his family so everyone was clear.
    Tristan’s soft lips

pressed into his chest and Luke’s dick twitched. “You want to go to breakfast?”
    “I have stuff to do.

There’s food in the fridge if you want to grab something on your way out.”
    His head lifted and

stee ly eyes bore into his. “Are you kicking me out?”
    Luke shrugged and slid

out of bed. “Like I said, I got shit to do.”
    He sat up and Luke

struggled not to fidget under his scrutiny. “At least let me help you get the

kitchen back in order. There’s no way you’ re moving

that fridge on your own. I don’t care how ripped you are.”
    “That’s fine, but then

I have errands to run. I gotta jump in the shower.”
    Tristan’s gaze darted

to the sticky smear at Luke’s stomach and the side of his mouth kicked up.

“Need any help? ”
    “No, I’m set.” He

turned before he could see the dejection in Tristan’s eyes. It was good that he

realized now that this was a mistake. Luke wasn’t gay.
    An hour later the

kitchen was back in order and Luke was anxious for Tristan to go. It was only

nine in the morning, but soon others would be getting

up and he didn’t need anyone to see them immerging from the barn together or

him dropping Tristan off at his aunt’s.
    He grabbed his keys

from the bowl on the counter. “You ready?”
    The other man’s

expression was unreadable. “Yeah.”
    Luke felt like he was

forgetting something, but couldn’t figure out what. They headed down the hall

and when he opened the door Tristan’s large palm slammed it shut.
    Luke turned and found

Tristan’s hard gaze drilling into him. “Ar e you at

least going to kiss me goodbye?”
    Yes. No. Fuck. He

didn’t want to reopen that can of worms. He wanted to seal it shut, wrap it in

duct tape, encase it in a box of unbreakable cement, and throw it away in the

deepest crevice of the ocean. “Tristan— ”
    “Is that it then,

Luke? I suck you off, we spend the night in each other’s arms, and you toss me

out like yesterday’s garbage and forget how much you enjoyed it? Out of sight,

out of mind?”
    “I’m not fucking gay!”
    “My memory calls you a

liar.”
    His eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening. “You don’t know me.”
    “I know enough. I know

you’ve never been with a man before and it terrifies you because you liked

being with me. I know you aren’t such a hard ass underneath all that bulk.

Don’t forget it was my shoulder you cried on last

night.”
    Luke’s arm shot out

and he shoved him. Unprepared for the blow, Tristan stumbled back a few steps

and caught his hand on the table. His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.
    “You gonna hit me now

too?”
    Fuck. He hadn’t meant

to la sh out. His heart beat erratically. He bit back

his apology. He felt like the horrid character in some animal movie throwing

stones at the poor family dog so it ran away and returned to where it was meant

to be.
    Tristan rose to his

full height. “You aren’t going to push