Shooting Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say.
    He expected Brac to cuss him out for what he’d done, but instead Brac’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What did I do wrong?”
    Jessup couldn’t handle the disappointment he detected in Brac’s voice. What could he possibly tell the man? Somehow ‘you reminded me of my time in prison’ didn’t sound right. “Can I help you back to the house?”
    Brac shook his head. “I think I’ll lay here for a while longer.” He finished the sentence by spitting on the ground.
    Not only had Jessup hurt Brac but he couldn’t even remember doing it. “I’ll get you some water.”
    “No. I’ll be fine. Just sit down.”
    The last thing Jessup wanted to do was sit and watch Brac recover from an injury he’d delivered. Running away was the obvious option, but before his capture, retreat hadn’t even been part of his vocabulary. Where the hell was his courage? Chalk it up to one more thing he’d lost in Syria.
    “Please?” Brac asked.
    Jessup sat several feet away from Brac and rested his hands on his knees. He plucked a blade of grass from beside his ankle and began to separate it into thin slivers. The right thing to do was to explain his actions, but would someone who wasn’t there understand them? “I was working a job in Syria when I was arrested. I’d been hired to observe a particular group of protesters that the United States wanted information on. All I was supposed to do was watch them and the Syrian people’s reaction to them. The next thing I knew I was picked up by a small group of undercover police officers and arrested. I suffered three years of hell before they finally released me.”
    “And it’s because of that hell that you don’t like physical contact?”
    “Yeah, something like that.” Jessup realised Brac wouldn’t understand what he’d gone through unless he spelled it out for him, but Jessup wasn’t prepared to travel down that road. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
    Jessup stood and gathered the fishing supplies he’d brought to the pond. “I’ll go start lunch.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Recovered from the blow to his balls, Brac gathered his fishing gear. A noise off to his left caught his attention as he started down the path towards the cabin. “Jessup?”
    When no answer came, he continued down the meandering path. He still hadn’t figured out what to say to the deputy. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t say anything. No. He had to address what had happened if the two of them had any hope of continuing what they’d started by the pond. And, damn, did he want to continue. The passion between them had nearly set Brac on fire.
    The noise came again, only closer. “Hello?” he called out. “Jessup?”
    A rabbit jumped out of the brush, causing Brac’s heart to skip a beat. “Fuck. You scared me, asshole.”
    Feeling stupid, he tuned out the sounds coming from the brush and returned his attention to Jessup and his mouth. Memories of the man’s tongue started to make him hard, no small feat after the blow he’d received earlier.
    Brac pressed the back of his hand against the front of his shorts and nearly poked his eye out with the fishing pole. He did it again, dodging the pole. He might return to the cabin blind, but at least he’d have a smile on his face. The second touch felt so good, he wanted more.
    After a quick look around, Brac dropped the pole and tackle box. With his hands free, he hurriedly unzipped his shorts and shoved both of them down the front of his briefs. “ Aaahhh ,” he sighed when his palm met the length of his cock.
    Closing his eyes, Brac imagined Jessup’s hard naked body. Although he hadn’t seen Jessup without clothes, yet , he had felt it against him. “Want it,” he moaned, running his free hand over the spongy tip.
    Whether it was the near perfect body he knew was under the clothes or the pain and sadness he detected under the skin, Brac wanted more of Al Jessup. He