Down Low Quotes

“Eli was sin incarnate, living right under the nose of his pious father.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I don’t need to use my cock to fuck you, Cal. I’m fucking you right this minute. I can fuck you with my fingers, my tongue, my eyes. I could fuck you with my words alone, and you’d come for me, wouldn’t you?”
Cal’s thighs quivered, his inner core spasming around Eli’s fingers. “Please, Eli...”
“Please, what?”
“Please donate to the American Red Cross!” Cal yelled, thrashing against him in frustration. “What the hell do you think I mean, asshole? Fuck me! Fill me up and pound me into the mattress and fuck—”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Cal begun ditching church services by age ten.
Wild horses couldn’t have dragged him back, or so he’d thought, but a few years later he’d found himself sitting at Eli’s side in that rear pew just to spend extra time with him.
God, that had felt so forbidden. He'd been half hard through so many sermons that he prayed there wasn’t a God. If a higher power existed, he was damn certain going to hell for all the sinful thoughts he'd entertained in a church.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Eli Jackson was an honest man, but Cal had watched him lie to his father's face without a twinge of shame. He was a gentle man, but Cal had seen just how dark his rage could take him. He'd had to pull Eli off Tucker Grace before he killed him in revenge. Eli was a hard, stubborn man, but he had the most tender need to care for others that Cal had ever witnessed. He was both calm and fury, sunshine and storm, and Cal had once been willing to sell his soul to learn his secrets.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“guess we’re all just stumbling around, half-blind with pain, and none of us can see the carnage we leave behind until its too late.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Forever," he whispered, smiling into those deep, dark eyes. "I'll give you forever, Eli." Eli's smile was boyish. "That's all I ever wanted," he replied.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Eli…” Cal whispered, clutching the forearm banded around his chest. He clamped down hard on the pain in his leg, but every muscle in his body began to succumb to reaction and he started to shake. “What the fuck are you doing here?” “You ran again,” Eli said, framing Cal’s jaw in one large hand and angling his head so he could look him in the eye. “I decided to go after you this time.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I’ve got you,” the ghost whispered. “I’ve got you, baby.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I guess we’re all just stumbling around, half-blind with pain, and none of us can see the carnage we leave behind until its too late.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“So... this is it?" Cal asked incredulously. "You want me to go?" "I never wanted you to go, Cal." Eli leaned across the seat, reaching across Cal's body to open the passenger door for him. "I'm just not trying to keep you anymore.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I want to rip the beating heart out of every man who’s ever touched you,” he growled, and the ice in his voice told Cal that he wasn’t joking.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I wasn’t necessary when I was seventeen, Eli. I’m sure as hell not necessary now. I already knew you and Faith didn’t need me; you’re both stronger than I could ever be. But you haunted me one way or another every waking minute since I left, and I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Okay?”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“I believe that humans are imperfect beings, and God loves us in our imperfections. I don’t think He views my son loving a man as more sinful than the harm I’ve caused with my pride and arrogance. God loves Eli exactly as he is, and so do I.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Cal swore they were trying to smash through their chests to become one living, beating thing. It had never been so good. Never.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Cal had always trusted Eli—with his heart, his sister, his life—and that hadn’t changed. The man was a protector to his very core. He would never take chances with someone else’s health, not even Cal’s, not even when he resented him so much. He was frightening and intense, but simultaneously everything good and strong and true in the world.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“The only boy who could ever reach me…” Cal whispered, “…was the son of a preacher man.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Eli glanced at him with those deep black eyes of his, but his expression was unreadable. "I know you," he said simply. "The things that scare you are the things that you love the most.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“He was both calm and fury, sunshine and storm, and Cal had once been willing to sell his soul to learn his secrets.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Yeah, well... chasing your dreams is like riding a bull,” he muttered. “Sometimes they buck you off, and there ain't no way to get back on.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Never do that again,” Eli whispered raggedly against his hair. “I love you too much to watch you kill yourself.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Eli had never been a fan of the rodeo, but he’d pretended for Cal’s sake. He used to lay by the river on hot days, sifting his fingers through Cal’s hair and smiling faintly as Cal nattered on about his big dreams. Even then, Eli had seemed to know that those dreams would never include both of them. He’d never been starry-eyed like Cal had been; he was too practical for that. He’d only been two years older but a whole lifetime wiser.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Cal sighed and stacked his hands behind his head to stare at the stars. “But I’ve only ever been good at one thing. Rodeo is my shot. Without it, I’m nothing.” Eli looked at him over his shoulder. “You’re something to me.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“In Cal’s fantasies, he and Eli still shared a bond, but in reality they couldn’t be further removed from each other.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“Hell, Cal had never been any prize. His hair was the color of mud, his eyes an unremarkable hazel, and he’d always been on the scrawny side. He filled out his clothes like a scarecrow dressed in rags, and the premature lines on his face showed every hard drinking, sleepless night he’d been through.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“All things considered, Eli Jackson hadn’t changed much. He’d always had the square-jawed charisma of a leading man from the silver screen. His hair was dark and thick, with just a hint of wave that turned curly when wet, and his eyes were inky black. The lean, boyish frame of an eighteen-year-old had thickened into a broad frame and powerful shoulders.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low

“You were made to take cock. I used to sit in class and dream about stuffing you so full you couldn’t live without it. I wanted you addicted to my cock.”
“I was,” Cal said with a chuckle.
“Not enough, you weren’t.” Eli shifted Cal’s wrists together so that he could imprison them with one hand, freeing his right one to grab Cal by the back of the thigh and crank his legs wide open. “I used to have this fantasy that you’d come knocking on my door in the middle of the night, and when my father answered, you’d just shove past him and barge into my room and beg for my cock. Then I’d fuck you, and you’d scream my name right there where he could hear you.”
“Jesus,” Cal swore, breaking out in a sweat as the fantasy streaked across his feverish brain. “Is it too late to head over there?”
Eli’s chuckle was sinister. “You aren’t going to be capable of walking when I’m done with you.”
― Parker St. John, Down Low