Incredible

Copyright January 18-28, 2005
by Matthew Haldeman-Time

I write about men having sex with other men.  You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction.  This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.




animated banner by Leslie Lee


            Jason walked ten rows up the bleachers, ten steps over, and sat.  The school’s indoor pool was deserted, and he enjoyed the solitude as he withdrew his sketch pad from his backpack.  Rummaging in the bottom of his bag for a pencil, he heard the door to the boys’ locker room slam open.  Deliberately ignoring the noise of the swim team, Jason flipped his book open to a fresh page and began to draw.

            The humidity, the smell of chlorine, the echoing shouts and splash of water - - Trent was at home.  He stretched slightly, shaking his muscles loose.

            “Hey, Langley.”  Butch Lavery elbowed him, nodding towards the bleachers.  “Looks like the goth poster child is back.”

            Trent had noticed Jason immediately.  The guy was there every day.  Trent didn’t know why; Jason was just there, drawing or writing or whatever it was that he did, every time that they came to practice.  He did look pretty goth, too.  He dressed in all black, with heavy black boots and silver jewelry.  He didn’t have even a hint of a tan.  His dyed black hair was close-cropped, with long, red-streaked bangs.  Trent saw him around sometimes, but they’d never spoken to each other.  Personally, Trent thought that Jason was kind of hot, but that wasn’t Butch’s business.  Butch already thought that he had crappy taste in guys.

            “Maybe he likes swimming,” Trent said.  That didn’t seem likely, and Butch gave him a look.  “Maybe this is just somewhere he can hang out without being bothered.”

            “Maybe he’s a freak,” Butch suggested.

            “Maybe you’re a freak,” Trent suggested.  “He’s not bothering anybody, so shut up.”

            Butch grinned.  “Crush much?”

            There was no way to respond to that without inviting more harassment, so Trent just pushed Butch into the pool.



            Jason had been in the bleachers for every practice, all season.  He hadn’t missed one, and he was never late.  He only left after all of the guys had gone back into the locker room to change.

            While they swam, he sketched.  Usually he drew Trent Langley.  Trent’s strong jaw and high cheekbones itched to be adored, but Jason couldn’t get over those incredible green eyes.  They were a bright, clear green with long, lush, gold-tipped lashes.  Jason hadn’t been given many chances to get all that physically close to Trent, but he’d managed to be just close enough just often enough to become mesmerized by those eyes.

            Trent’s dark blond hair was shaved down to peach fuzz.  He let it grow out between seasons, but while he was swimming he got rid of it.  Jason respected the fact that Trent’s commitment to the sport was stronger than his vanity.

            Jason didn’t stare at the swimmers.  He kept his gaze on his sketchbook, for the most part, raising his eyes to look through the fall of his long, red-streaked bangs, keeping his head down so that he couldn’t be accused of watching.  He didn’t watch the swim team as a whole; he watched Trent.

            He watched Trent swim like a fish and kick everybody else’s ass.

            Jason smiled as Trent, with his usual technique, touched the wall over a body length before everyone else.



            Trent hauled himself out of the pool, vaguely listening to the coach’s post-practice instructions, keeping one eye on Jason.  Ever since he’d noticed Jason hanging around the bleachers, he’d been more aware of Jason’s presence around campus.  They’d crossed paths at the library recently, and even though Jason had seemed entirely oblivious to his presence, he’d watched Jason a lot longer and with a lot more attention than was probably normal.

            Seeing Jason around the pool with this kind of regularity made Trent curious.  He wondered why Jason hung out there.  There had to be a reason.  Jason wasn’t there on days that the team didn’t practice; Trent had come by twice to check.  He wasn’t friends with anyone on the team; Trent had discreetly asked, and Butch had indiscreetly asked, and no one really even knew the guy.

            Trent kind of thought that he’d like to get to know the guy.



            The team was heading back into the locker room.  Jason spent an extra second defining the water droplets cascading from Trent’s back as he climbed out of the pool, then closed his sketchpad and, oh, shit.  Now what?  Jason eased his sketchpad back into his backpack, dropping his pencil inside, as Trent Langley himself strolled up the stands with a casual smile.

            Jason zipped his bag shut, rising to his feet.  Trent wore only a bathing suit, and that left a lot of naked skin available to Jason’s gaze.  His long body was lean and firm, his pecs defined and his abs tight.  Jason had no idea how Trent could feel that comfortable walking around that naked, but apparently he was used to it.

            Trent stopped on the stairs, leaning back against the handrail, keeping a polite distance.  “Hey.  You a swim fan?”

            Jason brought his bag over his shoulder, committed to keeping, “No, but I’m stalking you,” out of the conversation.  “It’s not bad,” he said.

            Trent grinned.  “Yeah?  Yeah, it’s okay.”

            Jason tried not to smile.  He failed, though, and when he gave in and smiled back, Trent’s smile increased.

            “You coming to the meet this weekend?” Trent asked.

            “No.”  There was no way that his friends would accept that.  Getting caught at a swim meet?  No way.

            Trent’s smiled dimmed.  “It wouldn’t suck,” he said.  “We’re going to win.”

            “No kidding,” Jason said.

            Trent laughed.  “You have that much confidence in us?”

            “I’ve seen you swim.”  He meant Trent specifically, but he didn’t have to say it.

            “Well, thanks.”  That smile was back.  “I’m Trent,” he said, offering his hand, stepping forward.  “Langley.”

            “Jason,” Jason said, and shook his hand.  “Holtz.”

            “Maybe I’ll see you around,” Trent said.

            “Yeah,” Jason said, taking his hand back.  “Maybe.”

            Trent gave him a casual smile and jogged down the stairs.

            That bathing suit was cut so low, Jason had no idea how Trent’s dick stayed tucked inside it.  He never tugged on it, either, so apparently he wasn’t at all self-conscious about having his entire body on display.

            That night, Jason’s dreams were filled with the scent of chlorine as he gazed into green eyes and licked drops of water from Trent’s gorgeous, naked body.



            That weekend, Trent scanned the bleachers at the meet.  He didn’t see Jason anywhere.

            After practice, Trent caught Jason just as he was stepping down from the bleachers onto the concrete.  At 6’4”, Trent was at least six inches taller, and when Jason looked up at him, they both froze in place.  Jason’s intense, dark eyes were made even more dramatic with eyeliner, and there was something guarded yet aggressive about his expression.

            Trent wanted him.

            He was mysterious, and so far not a great conversationalist, and seemed to have no interest in Trent whatsoever.  But he was pinging all over Trent’s radar in an undeniable way.  Trent wanted him.  Trent wanted to get him hot and make him come.

             Trent had been the one to approach, but he wanted Jason to talk first.  So he didn’t say anything, taking the opportunity to notice details.  Jason wore three necklaces, had five silver earrings in each ear, had four silver rings on his left hand and three on his right, and had “seven p.m.” written in black ink on the back of his right hand, near six black rubber bracelets.

            Finally, Jason raised his eyebrows.  “What?”

            “What’s at seven?” Trent asked.

            Jason frowned, like he had no idea what Trent was talking about.  His expression cleared somewhat, but he still looked off-balance when he said, “I’m meeting some people at the Burger Stop.”

            Trent nodded.  “Can I come?”

            Jason’s eyes widened.  He seemed to struggle with several responses, but he finally asked, “Why?”

            Trent wasn’t usually this bold.  He wasn’t usually this into someone he didn’t know, either.  He wanted guys all of the time, but he was interested in Jason in some weird, primal way.  He was interested in who Jason was and what Jason did and how Jason’s life worked and whether Jason could like him back.  “I like the Burger Stop.”

            “It’s almost seven now,” Jason said.

            Trent grinned.  “So let’s go.”

            Jason’s gaze didn’t drop, but he asked, “Shouldn’t you get dressed first?”

            Trent couldn’t stop smiling.  He was trying to flirt, and it might actually have started working.  “If I go into the locker room, you’ll disappear.”

            Jason shrugged.  “You know where I’ll be going.”

            It was working.  Trent couldn’t believe it, but he didn’t want to question it.  “Then maybe after I get dressed, I’ll stop by.”

            Jason shrugged again.  “It’s up to you,” he said, and started to walk on.

            “Wait.”  Trent said it too suddenly, and Jason gave him a suspicious look.  “Which Burger Stop?”

            “The one on Caesar,” Jason said.

            Trent relaxed.  “Okay.”

            Jason walked away.

            Trent watched him go.  Trent didn’t know which people Jason intended to meet, or how many of them, or for what purpose.  He didn’t know if they’d like him or laugh at him.  He just hoped that they weren’t going to get in the way of his new quest to be the first swimmer on the team to have a goth boyfriend.



            Jason didn’t know what the hell to do now.

            Trent had approached him, again.  And flirted with him.  Why?

            Trent had invited himself to hang out with Jason.  Why?

            Did Trent want to be friends with him?  That didn’t make sense.  He’d deliberately been unfriendly the last time they’d talked, so that Trent wouldn’t come near him again, so that he’d be safe to crush from afar.  He had a million fantasies, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do with Trent in reality.

            Did Trent want to do him?  Trent was a very fit, very handsome athlete.  Jason was pale and skinny and lacked some social skills.  Trent couldn’t possibly want him.

            Although, what would be the point of flirting with him, then?

            Jason walked into the Burger Stop, going to the back to sit across the table from Brad and Katie.  Brad said hi.  Katie offered him her soda.  Jason didn’t know what to say.  Should he warn them that Trent was coming?  Should he not bring it up and hope that if Trent showed up, he could make it a non-issue?  Should he get them to leave before Trent arrived?  Should he make an escape, himself?

            “What?” Katie asked.  “Stop fidgeting.”

            Jason stopped twisting his rings and met her eyes.  He could trust her, maybe, to play it casual and not make fun of him.  He explained, as briefly as possible, too tense to pause for breath.  “I have a crush on this guy and he’s on his way here to meet me and hang out but we’ve only talked twice so I don’t know if he’s interested.”

            “What?” Brad asked.

            “We’ll be cool,” Katie said calmly, like it was no big deal.

            “What?” Brad asked again, puzzled.

            Katie ate one of Brad’s fries.  “Some guy’s meeting Jason here.  They’re trying to hook up.”

            “Oh,” Brad said.  “Whatever.”  He went back to drawing a complex tangle of snakes on his arm.

            “It’s not Rico, is it?” Katie asked.

            “What?” Jason asked.  Then he realized what she meant.  “No.  God, no.”  He’d made out with Rico once, but he’d been drunk and horny and lonely and stupid.

            She nodded, eating more fries, seeming to dismiss the subject.

            Her casual disinterest in the subject gave him enough room to say, “It’s Trent Langley.”  He knew that she was deliberately giving him space and not pushing, and he appreciated it, but it was still nice to see her eyes widen in quick shock.  She choked a little, and Brad glanced up at that, to make sure she was okay, before going back to the snakes.  Jason tried not to smile while she took a throat-clearing sip of soda.

            Katie couldn’t pretend to take things in stride anymore.  “The swimmer?” she asked.  “The tall blond guy?”

            “Yeah.”  Jason had to smile, now.  It felt great to mention Trent to someone.  He’d been fixating on the idea of Trent in his head for so long, actually talking about the guy was startlingly freeing.

            Katie adjusted her bracelets, studying him.  “He’s a swimmer.  Swimmers are…”

            “Joiners?” he suggested, getting ready for an argument.  “Jocks?”

            “Yeah,” she said, “they are, but I was going to say, swimmers are hot.  How’d you meet Trent Langley?”

            Brad looked up.  “Who’s Trent Langley?”

            “That is,” Katie said, looking at something behind Jason.  “Damn, he’s tall.”

            Jason tensed, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder.  Had Trent seen him?  Was Trent heading in his direction?  Was-

            “Hey.”  One long, lean, denim-clad thigh entered Jason’s field of view.  “Mind if I join you?”

            Jason forced himself to stay cool.  He could interact with Trent without shouting, “I’m obsessed with you!”  Clearing his throat, he feigned a casual tone, glancing briefly in Trent’s general direction.  “There’s room.”

            “Hey,” Trent said, taking the seat directly beside Jason.  “I’m Trent.”

            “I’m Katie,” Katie said.  “This is Brad.  We were just about to go, actually, and-”

            “We were?” Brad asked, looking up, confused.

            “It was great to meet you, though,” she said to Trent as if Brad hadn’t spoken, standing up and pulling on Brad’s elbow to bring him to his feet.  “See you later,” she said to Jason with a smile, and picked up her bag, walking away and tugging Brad along.

            Jason hoped that something really bad would happen to her in the parking lot.



            Trent smiled, watching Jason deliberately not look at him.  Apparently, he’d been on the right path when he’d started flirting back at the pool.  Katie wouldn’t have been that obvious about leaving if Jason hadn’t given her some clue that he was interested.  Trent wondered what Jason had said about him.

            “You must have said something pretty bad about me for her to run out like that the second I showed up,” he said casually, letting his smile color his tone.

            “Yeah,” Jason said, rubbing one black fingernail over a flaw in the tabletop, his eyes on the movement.  “I told her that you’re a swimmer.”

            Trent chuckled.  “That’s a terrible thing?”

            “Yeah,” Jason said.  “She was frightened by chlorine when she was young.”

            Trent laughed, surprised.  Jason glanced at him with equal surprise, maybe at the sound of his laughter, and the direct eye contact made Trent’s body snap to attention.

            Jason’s gaze lingered.

            Trent shifted one inch closer.

            Jason’s gaze…lowered.

            Trent shifted another inch closer.

            Jason’s lips parted, slightly.

            Trent was so hot that he was about to start sweating.  “Do you live on-campus?”

            Jason swallowed, still looking at Trent’s body.  “Yeah.”  His gaze flickered up to meet Trent’s eyes, and he seemed to remember himself at that moment, bringing his guard up.  “Why?”

            Trent wondered how bold he could afford to be.  He didn’t know Jason well enough to know whether boldness would be rewarded.  He looked into Jason’s intense, dark eyes.  “I’d like to see your room.”

            Jason was visibly suspicious.  “Why?”

            Trent smiled.  “I thought maybe I could pick up some decorating tips.”

            Jason raised his eyebrows.  “Decorating tips,” he repeated.

            “Of course,” Trent said with a smile.

            “Of course,” Jason said.  He looked at Trent for a minute, then shrugged and started to get up.  “I’m heading back there now.  You can walk with me, if you want.”

            Trent grinned.  He was in.



            Jason cursed his dick the whole way back to the dorm.  He couldn’t believe that he was taking Trent up to his room.  He couldn’t believe that he was going to get laid with the star of the swim team.  He’d never be able to watch practices again.  He was going to have to avoid Trent after this, to avoid embarrassing scenes, to avoid the fact that Trent would be avoiding him.  For Trent, this was once-and-done, a one-time thing, a fuck-and-go.  Trent wasn’t interested in him, couldn’t actually want to talk to him or hang out, just wanted to get off.  And sometimes that was fine, sometimes that was okay, sometimes that was all sex was, but Jason had too much invested in this, had a stupid stupid stupid crush, was practically stalking the guy, was practically obsessed.

            He shouldn’t be doing this.  He shouldn’t be taking Trent back to his room.  He shouldn’t be trying to get laid.  If he kept hanging around practices after they fucked, he’d look like a pathetic loser.  He was going to have to keep his distance.  Which was going to fucking suck, and which might also be impossible, because he was a really bad stalker.  He liked being close to Trent too much to stay out of sight.

            But his only alternative to saying yes would have been saying no, and with Trent Langley offering him sex, he couldn’t possibly have said no.  Say no?  To that?!  Trent was gorgeous, Trent had a terrific body, Trent had amazingly green eyes, Trent was hotter than hot.  Trent smiled all of the time, Trent made everybody laugh, Trent made a new friend everywhere that he went.  Jason had been watching Trent long enough, and closely enough, to know that Trent was the guy everyone liked, the guy who pulled off everything effortlessly, the guy who was fun and popular and always had a good time.

            Jason didn’t know a lot of people like that.  He’d never been that way, himself.  He didn’t enjoy being the center of attention.  He didn’t make friends easily.  He didn’t know how to talk to Trent.  In his mind, in his fantasies, he always knew what to say to Trent, always said just the right thing that made Trent want him and led to hot sex.  In reality, he heard stupid, monosyllabic, defensive things pop right out of his mouth.  It had to be coming across to Trent like he was trying to make a bad impression.

            He didn’t know how to make casual conversation without exposing the fact that he was really, really into Trent and really, really wanted to hook up.

            Well, even if Trent hadn’t figured out that he wanted to hook up by what he’d said, the fact that he was taking Trent up to his room probably gave it away.

            He was an idiot.

            An idiot who was about to get it on with a really hot guy.

            An idiot who was probably in love or something.

            Jason would rather never speak again than admit that.



            Jason hadn’t said anything since they’d left the Burger Stop.  Either he had nothing to say to Trent, or he wasn’t much of a talker in general.   Trent was okay with that; Trent was determined to make friends with Jason, sooner or later.  Before they had sex, or after.  They were going to be friends, and they were going to have sex; the order didn’t really matter.

            Trent had a lot of friends, though.  He wanted something else.  Something a little more interesting.  Something that involved sex and passion and a warm body in his bed.

            Jason seemed to qualify for the interesting part, at least.  The sex part was looking likely.  And the passion part, well, Trent was willing to bet that there’d be some of that, too.  Jason’s eyes were too intense; Jason seemed to be holding back and restrained.  Trent wondered what would happen if those restraints were broken.

            He followed Jason right into the dorm and into the elevator, taking mental note that they got off on the fifth floor.  They walked down the hallway, and without a word, Jason opened a door.

            Trent stepped in behind Jason, closing the door again.  Jason’s dorm room was dark and cluttered, with clothes across one bed and a ragged poster on the wall.  “When’s your roommate coming back?”

            “Not for a while,” Jason said.  He flipped on a desk lamp, dropping his bag and shedding his jacket.  Pushing back his bangs with one hand, he met Trent’s eyes in the half-light.  “What do you do?”

            “Everything,” Trent said, feeling a quick surge of arousal.  This was really about to happen.  He’d been eyeing Jason for weeks, wondering, but now it was here, it was happening.  The first few days he’d seen Jason in the stands, he’d been curious, shrugged, and forgotten about it.  The next few days after that he’d been curious, wondered, and waited to see if Jason would keep showing up.  Lately, he’d been interested, wondering, and fantasizing.  Fantasizing that he could catch Jason’s eye.  Fantasizing that he could get Jason’s attention.  Fantasizing that he could get Jason alone and naked somewhere.

            It had happened.  He’d gotten Jason’s attention.  Now they were alone, and about to be naked, and blood was pumping furiously down into Trent’s groin, his dick hardening fast.

            This had all been too easy.  He wasn’t that suave; he’d gotten here too quickly.  He didn’t know how that had happened, but he didn’t have the time to worry about it.  He’d figure it out later.  After he’d gotten laid.



            When Trent grabbed his hips and yanked him forward, pulling him right against Trent’s body and kissing him, Jason made an embarrassing, startled noise and planted his hands against Trent’s chest, curling his fingers into the front of Trent’s shirt and holding on.  Trent’s kiss was deep and possessive, and Jason didn’t know whether to try to keep up or just let Trent take over.  Trent’s arms wrapping around his waist brought their bodies flush, and Jason moaned at the feel of Trent’s hard body against his as his hands slid up to broad shoulders.  He was surrounded by Trent, wrapped in Trent’s arms, against Trent’s firm chest, with Trent’s tongue sleek and erotic in his mouth, Trent’s hands roaming his back and cupping his ass, Trent’s dick hard against his own thickening erection, Trent’s soft, low moans in his ears.

            He’d never heard Trent moan before.  The sound of Trent in pleasure sent heat rushing through Jason’s veins, and he ground his hips against Trent, getting some electrifying dick-to-dick friction that made his skin hot.  The throbbing of his dick and the fire in his body made Jason greedy, and he yanked, pulling Trent over himself as he fell back onto the bed.

            Making a sound like an aroused growl, Trent fastened his mouth to Jason’s neck, sucking feverishly as his hands began to burrow under Jason’s clothes.  Jason worked a hand between their bodies, finding the thick length of Trent’s dick through Trent’s jeans.  It was so hard that he moaned, and Trent groaned in response, shoving up his shirt to kiss his chest, one thumb rubbing roughly over his nipple.

            “Yes, oh, god…”  Jason groaned, rubbing Trent’s hard-on, trying to contain the aching in his own dick.  Trent was on him, all over him, and he couldn’t worry about Trent finding out about his obsession, he couldn’t worry about blurting out the wrong thing, all he could do was experience everything that Trent was giving, and try to get more.

            Cursing impatiently, Trent lifted off of Jason just long enough to unfasten his fly, tossing his shirt aside and shimmying out of his jeans with careless alacrity, returning his attention to Jason immediately like he was diving back into the pool.  His kiss was demanding, and as their tongues loved and fought, Jason’s hands slid over the firm, trained muscle of Trent’s body.  His skin was smooth, hairless, and if he’d been wearing any underwear, Jason hadn’t seen it.

            “God…fuck…”  Jason groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingers into the muscle of Trent’s back as Trent’s hand covered his dick, bringing him to unbearable fullness in the restriction of his jeans.  Aching, needing, panting, Jason pushed Trent’s hand away and jerked open his fly himself, shoving down his jeans and underwear and grasping Trent’s hand, wrapping it around his dick.  “Oh…yeah, yes, yes, yeah, god, yeah…”  Moaning, gasping, Jason cupped the muscular curves of Trent’s ass in both hands as Trent pumped his dick.  “Do it…yeah, yes, oh…”  Trent’s grip was tight and experienced, the rhythm of it a shade too quick, and Jason could feel the urgency of it pushing up through his spine, burning through his blood, tightening his balls.  “Oh, yes, yes, Trent, god, fuck me…”



            The sky was black, the stars were bright, the sheets were stained, and the echoes of the bedsprings mingled with the memories of Trent’s passionate groans in Jason’s ears.  His skin was dirty with sweat and cum, his ass tender, his thighs strained, his fingers tracing the lines and curves of Trent’s shoulders as Trent slept, Trent’s slow, even breaths warm against his neck.

            Trent was heavy.  Jason couldn’t really breathe too well.  Jason didn’t really care.

            Everything that he’d just seen was etched permanently onto his brain.  He’d recorded it, so that he could pull it from memory later and draw it all.  If he closed his eyes, he could see the ecstasy on Trent’s face, the tightening and rippling of muscle, the line of Trent’s long neck, the sweat trickling down Trent’s right temple, the-

            Trent mumbled something against his neck and squeezed his hip.  “What time is it?”

            Jason opened his eyes, carefully brushing his fingertips over the peach fuzz on Trent’s scalp.  “It’s almost midnight.”

            “Mmm.”  Trent kissed Jason’s neck and raised his head, meeting Jason’s eyes.  The lamp was still on, casting a spotlight on the desk, and Jason watched Trent lean in, closed his eyes just in time to receive a slow, gradually deepening kiss.  “Do you need me to go?” Trent asked, pulling back just enough to leave kissing range.

            “No,” Jason said.  His roommate wouldn’t be back until the next day, late in the afternoon; if Trent was willing to stay, Jason wanted to soak up as much of him as possible.

            Trent kissed him again, lingering over his mouth.  “You’re incredible,” Trent murmured, licking just inside his lower lip.

            Jason didn’t know if Trent meant that or not.  It didn’t even matter, really.  Trent had been incredible.  Jason had felt incredible.  Hot and powerful and erotic and invincible.  He’d felt incredibly good and he’d come incredibly hard and he’d become incredibly sure that he had to have Trent again.

            “I could have kept on fucking you forever,” Trent said in between kisses, barely taking his mouth from Jason’s to form the words, his voice low and private, like he was talking to himself more than to Jason.  “You were incredible.”  His hand stroked Jason’s thigh while his tongue stroked the roof of Jason’s mouth.

            Jason didn’t know what to say back - - “You were great,” “You’re so fucking sexy,” “You want to do it again sometime?” - - so he just kissed Trent’s hot, possessive mouth and stroked Trent’s hot, gorgeous body with hungry, cherishing hands.  He didn’t know when he’d get this opportunity again, and he didn’t want Trent to leave before he’d touched every inch.

            Trent cupped Jason’s chin in one hand, looking into his eyes.  Jason hoped that his eyeliner wasn’t fucked up or anything.  “I don’t know why you sit in the bleachers,” Trent said.  Jason looked into Trent’s amazing green eyes and tried not to tense.  “I’m not going to ask, either, because it’s none of my business.”  Trent’s eyes softened, and his fingers caressed down Jason’s cheek.  “I just hope that whatever your reason is, it keeps you going there.”

            Jason raised his hand, tracing the line of Trent’s cheekbone.  “There’s no real reason not to go.”

            Trent grinned at him.

            Jason couldn’t help it; he grinned back.

            Trent’s kiss was a slow devouring.



Sequel: "Stupid Question"
matthew@matthewhaldemantime.com
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