"What are you doing,
Billy?"
Billy swung around from
where he was watching the wedding reception across the field. Terror filled
him when he spotted Rourke Blaecleah standing behind him. As much as he wanted
to take in the man's tall, sexy form, Billy knew his ass was in trouble, big
trouble.
"I wasn't doing anything,
swear," Billy said quickly as he started backing up into the woods. He had
been standing just on the edge of the forest behind a large tree. "I just
wanted to see. I wasn't causing any trouble."
"You're trespassing,
Billy."
"I'll leave." Billy
continued to back up but he wasn't getting any further away from Rourke. The
man took a step forward for every step Billy took back. "I swear I wasn't
causing any trouble, Rourke. I just wanted to see the wedding."
"You weren't invited,
Billy."
Billy swallowed. In his
mind, Billy knew he'd never be invited to one of the Blaecleah celebrations
but in his heart, he ached to attend them all. The Blaecleah family was known
far and wide as being close knit, each member caring for the others in some
way. That connection between them fascinated Billy.
"What do you have there,
Billy?"
Billy instantly hid the
small faded picture he held in his hand behind his back. His stomach started
to roll as Rourke walked closer to him, a peculiar expression on his face that
Billy couldn't quite make out.
Besides the workings of
the Blaecleah family, Billy was most intrigued by Rourke. He was the third
brother born of five, the middle son so to speak. Billy started having strange
feelings for the man about the time he turned sixteen years old.
In the five years since,
that fascination hadn't faded a bit. It had just grown stronger. Rourke
dominated every single one of Billy's fantasies. He'd never met another man or
woman that drew him like Rourke did. He sometimes wondered if he ever would.
Rourke suddenly stood in
front of him. Billy cringed as Rourke reached for the photo he held behind his
back. He squirmed to get away, to keep the picture from Rourke. He would be
humiliated if Rourke discovered that he had a picture of him, even as faded
and worn as it was.
"Please, it's mine,"
Billy whimpered when Rourke grabbed a hold of it and tugged. "It's mine!"
Billy wasn't strong
enough to keep Rourke from taking anything from him. The picture was no
exception. The man topped him by at least half a foot and a hundred pounds.
Rourke was also thick and muscular to Billy's slim and lanky. Billy didn't
have a chance.
He groaned as Rourke
ripped the picture out of his hand. His humiliation started the moment Rourke
looked at the picture then arched an eyebrow at him. And something in Rourke's
face told him that it would never end.
Rourke Blaecleah had
ammunition to use against him and the man wasn't above using it to get what he
wanted. "Why do you have a picture of me, Billy?"
Billy shrugged, refusing
to meet Rourke's curious gaze. He knew what he'd see if he did and Billy
didn't think he could handle it, not right now. Billy knew what sort of
reputation he had. He was considered a troublemaker.
And, in a way he was. He
learned at a very early age to do whatever his older brother, Clem, told him
to do or face the consequences. That meant he had gotten into a lot of fights,
broken some laws, and generally made himself into someone he knew Rourke would
never take a liking too. None of the Blaecleah family would.
The air in Billy's lungs
got caught somewhere in mid breath when the Rourke suddenly stepped forward
and pressed him up against the large tree behind him. Billy could feel the
hard bark digging into his skin through his thin shirt. He knew if Rourke
pushed, he would have scratches on his back.
Rourke just seemed to
lean into him, not pushing too hard but enough that Billy couldn't get away.
Billy turned his head to the side when Rourke leaned down close to him. He
swallowed hard when he felt Rourke's warm breath blow across his cheek.
"I believe I asked you a
question, Billy," Rourke said softly. "Why do you have a picture of me? And
don't lie to me, Billy. I'll know if you do."
"I found it," Billy said
quickly. It was the truth. He had found the small picture. Of course, he'd
found it inside the glove compartment of Ma Blaecleah's car, which Clem had
ordered him to search for money or anything they could sell.
Billy's knees had almost
buckled when he came across the small photo of Rourke, the main character in
all of his dreams. It had been taken just a couple of years earlier on the
Blaecleah front porch.
Rourke has been dressed
in cowboy boots and tight jeans, his chest bare as he worked on the porch
railing. Someone had obviously said something funny because Rourke's head was
tossed back as he laughed. The afternoon sun had been shining, lighting up
Rourke's face. Even if Billy lost the picture, he had looked at it so many
times the image was burned into his memories.
"You stole it," Rourke
murmured.
Billy shuddered. Rourke
was so close. Billy could smell the man, smell his rich deep masculine scent
and it was driving him wild. He knew he wasn't supposed to have these feelings
toward a man. They only led to trouble. Billy just couldn't seem to stop them.
"Now, I wonder why you
would steal a picture of me, Billy."
Billy pressed his lips
together and closed his eyes. He knew from experience that keeping quite was
his best course of action. Talking only got him into trouble. If he just kept
his mouth shut, Rourke would torture him in whatever fashion he chose then
tire of the game and leave him alone.
"You're not answering me,
Billy."
The moment Billy felt
Rourke's warm tongue rake across the sensitive skin of his throat he started
struggling, the cries in his mouth silent. He kicked out at Rourke until his
legs were trapped between two thick thighs. Then he started hitting and
scratching.
Billy whimpered when his
wrists were caught and held behind his back. He wanted to scream at the
unfairness of it all. Rourke only had to use one hand to hold both of his. The
other he used to grip Billy's chin, forcing him to look up. Billy kept his
eyes closed. He couldn't look.
"You like me, don't you,
Billy?"
Billy shuddered when he
felt Rourke's tongue scrap across his skin again.
"Little Billy Thornton
has a crush on me."
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