Looking for Trouble

by Misha Horne

“Maybe you just need to meet somebody to sort you out.” “Probably I do.” There was a long quiet then.

He shook his head again, and I wondered what it was he kept saying no to.

“Think you could whup ’em out of me?” he asked, his voice even quieter. It wasn’t a frightened sort of hush, it was a secret sort, like he didn’t want anyone to hear him asking, so I dropped my voice low to match, my pulse pounding so hard my ears were ringing.

“That how I sound when I teach you things?” “Sometimes.” “Guess I’m a real gruff son of a bitch sometimes, then, ain’t I?” He shrugged. “I don’t mind, mostly. You’re about the only person who could ever make me listen, so I guess it works alright.” That really wasn’t the best thing he could have said to me, that he didn’t mind me bossing him about, but I tried not to think about what sorts of things that could mean outside of working.

“Alright, come on back inside and put yourself to bed. You wanna fight about me giving you too much money, I guess we’ll do it tomorrow. Though it seems like an awful fool thing to fight about.” “That ain’t how fights work,” he said, taking a step toward me. “I think I’d rather fight now. If you got any fight in you.” “Boy—” “Don’t call me that.” His voice broke into a thousand pieces, some as fragile as glass, some heavy as boulders, some wild as fire. I’d never heard a sound like that, and I wanted to put my arms around him. Needed to. But I stayed still.

Sure would have been easier if he’d follow through on anything. If when he got near enough to kiss me, he did it. If when he promised to whup me, he kept it. But life didn’t seem to think I needed anything easy. Instead, it seemed to like to get me up real close to something I wanted just to make it clear to me it was impossible to get.

I swallowed and crept my way to the edge of the loft, looked down to where Will was standing, one fist on the ladder where he’d been banging on it. “Yeah, I’m here.” My mouth tasted like liquor and sawdust and my voice was cracked, but not from that. He looked away and swore, shaking his head. Yanking his hat off in that angry way he had and then jamming it back on and turning back around. “How’d you get up there?” he demanded. I guess I’d been expecting some question, but not that. “Climbed.”

Even my throat seemed to be blushing, the words coming out raw and burning.

Didn’t mean I’d slept a wink wondering where the hell he was, what the hell he was doing, what he was thinking out there alone in the dark. Wishing I’d hear the thunk of his boots against the house and know he was sitting out on the porch, just sour and bothered with me. But it was quiet.

“Are you… Is it… Is it alright we…” He couldn’t seem to force the words, likely didn’t want to, but I knew what he was asking. The same questions I’d been asking myself, but they were clear now. Answered with his own answers as I spoke to him how he needed and his body answered back. This was right. It fit just exactly like we fit. “Everything’s fine.”

I can bring you right out here, or take you out to the woods or the barn, or into the bedroom, and paddle your wicked behind just as often as you need it. And we both know that’s likely an awful lot.” “It is. God, I really do misbehave, Will.” I chuckled and pulled him close, my hands gentle as I rubbed him softly. “I know it.” “I like all those things you say. I guess you know that too.” “Which things are those?” “You know,” he said shyly.

“I want it,” I told him, my voice rough. “I ain’t afraid.” “No, you ain’t afraid of much, I don’t think,” he said, stroking me again. “But I got a lot more I want to do with you, and I wanna give you a good look over before we do anything else. So why don’t you get up off me and we’ll go up to the house.”

“You sure are all about stopping just right as we get going,” I told him. “And you sure are all about keeping going when you oughtta stop,” he said, yanking me close with his arm around my middle, and kissing me hard on the mouth.

Everything he gave me was everything I wanted, and I could hardly believe it was true.

“Will…” “You say my name so pretty,” he told me, his breath drifting over the root of my cock, his mouth just a second from where I wanted it. So close, but years away. “I want you to say it just like that, all night. All dirty and desperate and wicked.” My god, I didn’t know how this was the same man who grunted half his words and thought I reckon was a full conversation. I wanted to weep for all that was inside him I didn’t know. “Yes. Yes, anything,” I promised him. “Anything you want.”

“Did I hurt you?” he asked me. “No,” I told him, honest. “You took it all away.”

I felt my face match his crooked grin. “Maybe when you’re by yourself. I guess you’re forgetting I been waiting an awful long time to get ahold of you too.”

Imagined I might like to grab him there about every night and tug him toward me.

He shook his head, the movement rippling through him, making his small stomach twist and his heavy cock swing. My hands and mouth and the rest of me ached stronger to touch him. Lord, but he was a good looking man.

“You’re real good at…” I wasn’t sure how to say what it was. “Making me want a scolding,” I finally finished, even though that wasn’t quite right and made me burn even harder for saying it.

“Mmmhmm. Why is it I don’t believe you?” “Because I can’t lie to you worth a damn.” “Well, ain’t that a handy thing to know.”

God, you got pretty hair.” I pushed my hand back through it again, harder this time, and watched his body arch into it. “What else?” I asked him, reaching down to wrap my hand around his cock. He groaned in surprise and arched again, this time leading with his hips. “What?” “What else do you like?” I reminded him. “This,” he whispered, as I started to stroke him gentle. “I like this a whole lot.” “Calm those hips down,” I told him sternly. “I’ll give you what I want you to have.”

“You’re a good boy. Sweet and gentle and kind and helpful.” His face seemed to glow, but he looked mortified, even though he’d asked for the words himself. “When you want to be,” I added. He grinned. “I don’t always wanna be.” “I know it,” I told him, tugging on his sac a little, making him moan with surprise.

“So, you are trying to court me out here,” I finally said. “No. I’m through courting you. I’m trying to claim you.”