Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Nero’s heart twitched, and he felt lightheaded as he stared at the uneven road, trying to avoid holes and irregularities while Miguel raged, finally confirming what Nero had been hoping for all along.
But what was there to hide if Nero himself was gay? Did Miguel want to discourage him, because he disagreed with Nero’s lifestyle or found him too lewd?
Did Miguel find him dirty after listening to all the stories of his conquests and many a time hearing him get fucked?
Discomfort left an odd pressure in his chest, and he cleared his throat. “I could have helped if I knew.”
Miguel’s usually steady hands trembled as he lit his next cigarette. “There’s nothing you can help me with. We’re not the same.”
“Nothing? Don’t make me laugh. You could have gotten so many blowjobs, Miguel. I would have sucked on your balls, and deepthroated your dick. Just imagine going on a drive together, and then leaning back in some discreet spot to let me do my magic. My mouth is so hot, and wet, and it can take a bit of rough play,” he teased, watching Miguel from the corner of his eye.
But Miguel’s lies pissed Nero off, because he was hot shit and knew it. Why would Miguel, gay and unattached, give him the cold shoulder? The only other thing Nero could think of was that internal drama going on in some closeted guys, but even that couldn’t hold a candle to free blowjobs from a hot guy. Nero had broken through such lame defenses more than once.
Miguel took a drag of smoke so intense it burned through half his cigarette, and Nero didn't miss the way he turned his knees toward the door. “And that’s your problem! You’d fuck anyone. It disgusts me.”
It shouldn’t hurt. After all, Miguel had every right to refuse him. And he was far from the first man to throw that word into Nero’s face, but he couldn’t help the sense of disappointment and loss that now overcast everything, including the sun, which suddenly felt oppressive rather than warm.
“It disgusts me too. That’s why I get more people to fuck me, to punish myself for being such a dirty slut. I can’t even count all the cocks that have been up my ass to date,” he said, wanting to push Miguel further, until he was so uncomfortable he’d shut the fuck up.
The silence extended, making Nero itch, and he already thought of all the comebacks he could use when he saw Miguel take the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Turn left,” he said in a steady voice.
So Nero turned right to spite him.
“I said turn left!”
Nero raised his voice until it came from deep in his chest. “I don’t want to! We’re going right, because what the hell do you know about anything?”
Miguel shook his head. “Yeah, sure, what do I know? I’m just the one with the map. Turn back!”
“Fuck. You,” Nero hissed and pressed on the gas pedal, dashing farther and farther away from the direction Miguel told him to follow.
He would not be told what to do. Not by a guy who hated everything about him. Not by a guy who thought a good idea for the future was to lay down and die. Fucking idiot. Nero would fight for his right to exist to the death, until the last breath he had left, even if in Miguel’s eyes his life was worthless and ‘disgusting’. He’d have his fun for as long as he lived, and he’d not apologize to anyone for it.
At least Miguel shut his fucking face and didn’t spew any more bullshit.
Chapter 14
Miguel
They drove for hours in uncomfortable silence, playing piss chicken over who would tell the other they needed to take a leak first, but since Nero lost that unspoken game, Miguel also went off to the side of the road once Nero stopped the truck. They didn’t have to exchange a single word.
With the way things were going, Miguel should be grateful Nero didn’t drive off without him.
Miguel’s mood darkened along with the sky, and as the sun set so did his hopes for the conversation picking up. He shouldn’t have said what he had, and regret was growing in his throat like a tumor, but the cruel words he’d spat at Nero couldn’t be taken back.
He’d never been taught to consider people’s feelings, and in the time he’d known Nero Moreno, Miguel had seen him joyful, and mischievous, and angry in so many different ways. But hurt and sadness had never been a part of his repertoire, as if his dark skin was made of steel rather than flesh, and impenetrable to sharp words, until a few hours ago.
Someone who didn’t know Nero as long as Miguel might have written off his behavior as rage, but an angry Nero smashed things with a baseball bat and shouted. This silent treatment was so out of character Miguel felt increasingly guilty about crossing one of the very few lines Nero seemed to have. But he’d been taught how to terrorize people, aim well, and how to survive on his own, not how to communicate feelings he wasn’t supposed to have.