Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Scotland

He wasn’t sure if it would be better to rip the Band-Aid off and knock on the door to the cabin or act casually surprised when Clint stepped foot outside for the first time. He’d never been one to avoid a situation, normally, but Clint had kicked him out the last time they’d been in a room together.

He’d probably gone overboard. Definitely. He hadn’t spent so much on groceries since he’d hosted the Super Bowl party with twenty guys. That had been enough potato skins and jalapeno poppers to last him a lifetime.

Would Clint notice the little basket of cherry tomatoes from his garden? Or the zucchinis that Scotland loved growing but never knew what to do with? He could only make so many muffins before he got sick of the green demons.

Turning onto the pitted road, he slowed as he started down the lane to his house. It was overdue for fresh gravel, but he kind of liked it the way it was. Visitors always drove slower when it was like this, and it gave the place a more authentic feel.

When he’d first bought the land, he’d found tracks of unknown people going onto the property. That didn’t happen anymore when some of the potholes were bigger than castle motes and lined with enough muddy water that some of his guests hesitated at first.

He turned into his parking spot along the side of the house, rolling the windows up and shutting the car off. The engine ticked a few times as it cooled before falling silent. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

If Clint reacted the way he expected him to, then he wasn’t in for the quiet evening he needed. Maybe a medium-rare steak would change Clint’s mind, along with sausages and a potato mix of his own creation. There was still some corn kicking around in the bottom of his own fridge, and there was bound to be a plateful of beans in the garden yet.

I’m doing it again. The last thing he wanted to do was push Clint away by getting over-eager. Steaks would do…and the corn.

He crept out of the car, gently shutting the door and glancing toward the cabin as he made his way to the house. Only the corner of the building and the yard at the guest house were visible because of the curve of the land and the trees that guarded that part of the property. It was enough to give everyone privacy, but he could still keep an eye on the place to make sure nothing was on fire.

Some of his guests had been a bit…special. One particular city kid had moved the fire ring onto the porch and had started to pile massive logs into the thing in an attempt at a campfire. Scotland had been lucky that the guy had only had matches, otherwise the whole cabin would have been at risk.

He’d spent three months building it and another furnishing it, doing most of the work himself and even using a few trees from the forest on his land to make some accent pieces inside. He was damn proud of it, too.

Ducking into his house, he flicked off his shoes before strolling to the back patio. He had a better view from there, with the empty fire pit out in front of the cabin and the few Adirondack chairs set up around it. There was a charcoal barbecue there, too, that didn’t get too much use, despite most people cooking for themselves.

When he had the place rented out, he usually avoided the back porch to give them more privacy, but today he couldn’t help himself. He’d been raw since his last time at Unkinked. How badly did I fuck up?

Providing meals didn’t usually come with the stay, but as soon as Maddy had mentioned looking for a place for Clint’s vacation, he had jumped on the opportunity. Hopefully, it would make up for most of his recent blunder.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he’d said, a grin stretching over his face. “Everything.”

Maddy’s grin had been confused at first, before realization had begun to dawn. He was cute but a little oblivious.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had kinksters out to his place. In his old community, he’d had a few friends out, and even at Unkinked, word seemed to spread. It was relaxing to come home to his little slice of heaven with Dumb and Dumber grazing in the small paddock and a rope bunny strung up on the sturdy branch of a large oak tree.

Maybe Clint will let me string him up.Letting out a snort, he shook his head. There was no way in hell Clint would let him do that. He was the Dommiest Dom who ever Dommed. And he seemed to have a watchful eye for everyone except Scotland, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe he had something against switches? It wouldn’t be far-fetched, but Clint was just so damned nice that it was hard to think poorly of him. He helped people, even if he denied it.

Scotland’s phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against the change in there. He grabbed it, bringing it to his ear without looking at the name.

“Hello?”

“It’s Clint.”

Scotland sucked in a breath, leaning against the wall as Clint’s voice rolled over him. It was the first thing to draw him to Clint, the very sound of it sending a shiver over his body. His memory never did it any justice.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was shaky, his grip on the phone fierce. Fuck, I’m not in high school anymore. He hadn’t had this type of reaction to any man, but Clint always managed to do it to him. Maybe it was because he so often ignored Scotland, so when he finally looked his way, the full attention struck him so much harder.

“I saw you drive in. How the hell does this stove work? I’m starving.”

He blinked. The stove? He hadn’t bought anything complicated—just a nice model that had been on sale at the local depot.

“Just hit the power button— I’ll be there in a second.” He hung up, scrambling inside and throwing his shoes on. He took off at a jog to the cabin, panting as he reached the door before knocking. His heart was pounding, even though it had just been a short run, his gut jittery as adrenaline sparked through him.

When Clint answered, Scotland had to swallow to keep from drooling. The man was shirtless, his track pants hanging low and loose and showing off a dusting of hair above his groin. The lump just below that hair looked impressive, even if it was hidden away. The extent of the scars was a surprise, though.

Of course, he’d heard the stories about the burns, but he hadn’t expected so many, the skin shiny and pink in a swirling pattern. He’s so strong. To have survived something like that was a miracle.

“Hey,” said Clint, scratching his belly as he took a step back to let Scotland inside. He turned, showing off the perfect dip of his back where a few prickles of sweat had gathered. Below that was the soft roundness of his perfect ass that flexed as he moved.

Scotland simultaneously lost the fight not to drool or get hard. His plan fizzled away to nothing as his mind went blissfully blank. Clint’s nipples were that brown shade of rose that made his lips ache to suck and nibble at them. They would fit in his mouth perfectly one at a time, and they would glisten as he worshipped them. He could imagine the salty taste of Clint’s skin, and the smell of his sweat as he dragged his nose over the plane of his chest.

“H-hey.” Scotland shook his head slowly, trying to break the spell, but it clung tight. He’d never seen anyone so perfect or masculine, the hard lines of muscle just as prominent as the softer bits.

Clint chuckled, trailing his hand over his belly as if he didn’t know how much he was torturing Scotland. I’d pay to be that hand. My entire bank account for a night.

“The stove?”

“Y-yeah. I got it.” Biting his lip, Scotland toed off his shoes and strolled to the stove, the back of his neck prickling as Clint’s gaze followed him. “You should just have to hit the power button, then mode and it will turn on at maximum. The plus or minus adjust it up and down.”

He glanced at the pot of water next to the stove and the clumped and uncooked macaroni noodles within. There was no way he was letting Clint get away with eating cheap pasta on his watch.

“I did all that, but it just kept beeping at me,” said Clint, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached. “I found the book of manuals on the counter, so I followed the directions there. I’m not sure what I missed. I’ve never used an induction stove before.”

Clint was so close that Scotland swore he could feel the heat of him and the whisper of his breath against his neck. Clint was shorter than him, but he was a powerful man with a gaze that was knowing and intimidating at the same time. It was a struggle to keep from kneeling then and there.

“Did you put the pot on the stove first?” asked Scotland, reaching for the pot before setting it on the circular burner. “It won’t start unless the pot is already there.”

The beat of silence and Clint’s ‘oh’ was answer enough.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a lot of people ask me about it. It was just safer to have one like this instead of a gas or electric stove out here.” Not to mention that a tabletop stove weighed about twenty pounds. He’d done most of the work himself, and it had been the easiest thing to carry on his own and get hooked up.

“I was going to throw some steaks on the grill in a second. That’s probably better than mac n’ cheese.” He swirled the pot once, but the pasta remained clumped in one bulky mass. How long had Clint been trying? The pasta looked like it had been soaking in cold water for a while.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?” Clint stepped closer, his shoulder brushing his. The touch was nearly electric. There was only one thin layer of fabric between them—a layer that could be tugged off at a moment’s notice.

“I want to,” said Scotland, the truth of his words startling him. “I mean, it’s really no problem.” God, he sounded desperate. One phone call and he could get laid. Another phone call and he could have a fun scene that would take his mind off things. So what the hell is wrong with me?

“I don’t know what Maddy and Derreck said to you, but I can take care of myself. I’ve been cooking my own meals since I was fifteen. I don’t need someone else to do that for me.”

Need has nothing to do with it.“Says the man who can’t start a stove,” Scotland muttered, biting his lip. “Just because you can cook for yourself doesn’t mean you have to. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone take care of you for a bit.”

Sometimes it’s the best ever.

Clint took a step back, a frown twisting his lips. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Uh-huh.” Clint was a cry for help if he’d ever seen one. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen anyone so sleep-deprived with such a false smile on their face. And Scotland always had that itch to look after someone and he hadn’t gotten to scratch it so long.

“I’m serious,” said Clint, a wary look on his face as he crossed his arms. He flexed his biceps, the rigid muscle jumping.

“So am I,” said Scotland, throwing caution to the wind. “You take care of everyone around you, Clint. You are super sweet to Maddy, Nav and every other sub, and you are like a rock to every Dom. You can only be a rock so long before you start to erode.”

He closed the distance between them, reaching for anything to keep Clint from escaping. He settled his fingers on the drawstring of Clint’s pants, holding the string tight. It was a struggle not to look down when Clint pulled his hips away, the fabric tenting as the string snapped taut.

“Let me treat you to a nice vacation. Let me help you relax while you’re here and cook you a meal or two. Nobody will hold it against you, and I won’t even tell anyone. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

I can keep my hands to myself.It would kill him a bit, but he could keep things platonic. Clint’s health came first, and if Clint wasn’t going to look after himself, then Scotland was going to do it for him.

“You’re not my Dom, Scotland. This whole ruse isn’t going to bring us together.”

Scotland nodded sharply. I knew that. Even if he wanted that to change. He’d been waiting a long time. He could keep waiting as long as it took.

“I’m not treating you like a sub, Clint. I’m just trying to be nice. When was the last time you took a kind gesture at face value?” He struggled to keep his voice calm. Clint was not going to get a rise out of him. He took a breath, letting it out slowly. “This isn’t about sex or kink.”

“Says the man with his hand down my pants,” said Clint, narrowing his eyes.

Shit.He must’ve adjusted his hand subconsciously, because he now had a handful of Clint’s pants in his grip and a very decent view of a drool-worthy package. If he wasn’t mistaken, the back of his hand was a little warmer where he’d just brushed the wondrous thing on accident.

“I’m making you dinner. It’s up to you if you want to eat it or not.” Scotland slowly pulled his hand away, giving Clint one last look before he padded to the front door. “And for future reference, if you don’t want me to eye fuck you, try wearing a bit more the next time you invite me over.”

He wasn’t the type to blame the victim, but Clint was being way too shameless not to be up to something.

“There won’t be a next time, boy. I can look after myself.”

He shut the door quietly, letting out a sigh as his phone buzzed in his pocket. No one had called him ‘boy’ in a long time, and fuck, he missed it. He missed being attracted to someone so much that it almost hurt not to have them that instant, knowing that they felt the same way. It wasn’t nearly as fun when it was one-sided.

When he glanced at his phone, he let out a wry chuckle. Maddy had sent him a simple text.

How is it going?

How in the hell was he supposed to reply to that? He’d tried to build a bridge, but he’d flooded the place instead. This was probably only the beginning. It will get better. Or maybe it was all downhill from here.

Swimmingly.

He sent back the text before heading to the other side of the house where the paddock lay. The grass was almost tall enough to cover the two occupants within the place, but he’d never been worried that a coyote would get them. Donkeys were kick ass like that, even when they were miniature.

Usually, he went straight to them after work, but he’d gotten a bit distracted along the way this time. Ducking through the fence, he glanced around, trying to spot their tanned coats against green. They were quiet when they wanted to be, always picking the most startling times to let out their ear-shattering bray.

“Dumb and Dumber? Where are you guys?” Two nearly identical heads popped up a second later, their long ears pricked toward him. It was no wonder that he hadn’t been able to find them. They’d been at the far end of the nearly two-acre paddock in a lower spot where rain gathered to make a giant mud puddle every spring and fall.

A grin stretched over his lips, and he patted his thigh at the sight of them. They were both due for a brushing, with twigs and a few plants sticking to them. And it looked like Dumb had enjoyed his roll in the remaining mud, with brown streaked along his rump in large clumps.

Dumber extended his neck, letting out a loud bray as Dumb immediately trotted his way, the grass parting around him and a few grasshoppers taking off in the stampede. His ears wobbled as he ran, his tiny hooves clearing the rocks and downed branches that always managed to trip Scotland.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he lowered himself to one knee as Dumber reached him, bracing himself as the donkey thumped its head into his chest. For small creatures, they had a lot of weight behind them and one hell of a center of balance. “You guys been good today? You didn’t scare momma fox, did you?”

He scuffed Dumb’s ears, chuckling as Dumber approached and started to nibble on his shirt. It really was no wonder he went through so many clothes.

The other morning, he’d looked out of the window, only to see a whirlwind of dirt as they chased a fox out of their field, braying and kicking as they went. Thankfully, the fox had made it back to her kits, who had been sitting by a fencepost playing.

Dumber glanced toward the cabin, letting out another long bray that made his ears ring. They were better than any guard dog known to man, and he’d never met a more loyal companion. They were smart as hell, too, despite their names.

“I know, I know.” He glanced back at the cabin, catching a flash of light as the door swung open and Clint popped his head out. The only noise complaint he’d ever had at his place had been from the donkeys when a couple had brought their dog along, despite his no-pets rule in the house. Not that he didn’t love dogs, but a lot of people had allergies, and it was difficult to get the hair out of the sofa.

“You can’t run him down, guys. I’m trying to get him to relax.” He let out a huff as Dumber nudged him, sending him to his ass. He got his feet under him as calmly as he could before standing. He had no doubt that he’d get a bit trampled if they got too excited when he was down.

Clint still wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he had donned some shoes as he walked over to the fence, a grin on his face as he rubbed the back of his head. He propped one foot up on the lower board of the fence, crossing his arms over the top rail as he looked their way.

“I saw the fence, but I thought it was empty. Every time I looked out, I didn’t see anything.” Every bit of his anger seemed to have disappeared, his face smooth and relaxed as he slumped his shoulders.

“Yeah, they are good at keeping out of sight,” Scotland patted Dumber before scratching his neck. He wasn’t a big fan of ear scratches like Dumb was. “But don’t let that fool you. They are little hellions most days, and they are very good at making sure you don’t forget they are here.

“Yeah, that noise scared the hell out of me.”

Scotland grinned. The first time he’d heard a donkey, he’d been expecting the typical hee-haw noise. He’d had no idea that they could sound like a cow had gone head-to-head with an ice scraper.

“Do you want to pet them? They don’t bite or anything. Come on, guys.” He patted his leg, heading back to the fence where Clint was waiting. They trotted behind him like they always did, probably expecting carrots from the way Dumber was nibbling at his back pocket. He slipped his wallet out of his pocket, shoving it into the front one, just in case. They would probably have a great time munching on his credit cards.

“They’re like dogs,” said Clint. His grin was one of the cutest and sexiest things Scotland had ever seen, with his eyes lit up. I should have just put the donkeys in the cabin.

He turned away, looking back to the pair. Clint had made it pretty clear that this was going to be a hands-off arrangement, so it was probably best to avoid looking at that attractive chest that was so hot it could melt butter.

“They’re a hell of a lot smarter than dogs,” said Scotland, ducking through the fence before turning back and kneeling down. Clint crouched beside him, bringing his hand up as the two popped their heads through the fence. “Dogs will fetch the stick for you. Donkeys are smart enough to trick you into fetching the stick for them.”

Clint let out a hum, which turned into a gasp as he touched Dumber’s neck. “They’re so coarse. They looked so soft.”

Dumb bobbed his head, searching for scratches of his own.

“Don’t take any offense, buddy,” said Scotland, letting out a grin. “You’re still my little floof ball.” He ran his hand over Dumb’s face before rubbing the soft fuzz of his muzzle. “You should have seen these two when they were born. They were both so fluffy that they looked like they’d been struck by lightning.”

Clint chuckled, reaching a second hand out to pet both donkeys at the same time. A few flies had caught up to them, buzzing around them, but Clint didn’t seem to mind. “Were they born here?”

“Yeah.” Those had been the days. “I got their mama off a farmer who didn’t want her anymore. She was so depressed and had barely been outside the barn in years. The first three days she was here she wouldn’t even step outside of the trailer, so I just left it in the paddock until she did.” It had been so heartbreaking to see an animal afraid of the big outdoors, simply because she’d never been exposed.

“Next thing I knew, she was the light of my life. She loved everyone, except Samuel, funnily enough.” He snorted, shaking his head. “She tried to run him down in the paddock. She was so huge at that point that it was like watching a bouncy ball chase a football player.”

“Who was Samuel?” asked Clint, his expression soft as he gazed at the creatures.

“One of my old Doms,” said Scotland, leaning away to crack his back. He’d been stooped over for far too long. “We were together for about a year until we both realized it wasn’t going to work out.”

“Ah.” Clint nodded. “It happens.”

“Yep.” It had been a mutual parting that didn’t give him much grief. He still saw Samuel sometimes, and he really hadn’t missed him. “But anyway, here’s this donkey running around all this space with a new diet and everything good, and she just kept getting fatter. I took her for walks every day because she’d follow me around everywhere, but nothing seemed to get the weight off.”

One of his fondest memories had been walking through the bush with Penny at his side and stumbling on a herd of white-tailed deer. They’d taken off once they’d spotted him, and Penny had just flicked her ears and kept on walking.

“Then one morning I woke up and I didn’t have one donkey anymore— I had three. Twins are really rare for these guys, and there was no way I was ever selling them. They stayed here, even after their momma passed a few years later.” He swallowed as he remembered that day. He’d never been so fucking broken in his life. Luckily, he’d had a sub at the time who had been one of the sweetest guys Scotland had ever met. Riley had held him as he’d cried for hours.

He’d almost always had someone there for him, and someone who could hug him or hold him and cherish him after a long day. But when was the last time Clint had had that?

“Let me make you dinner, Clint,” he said softly, giving Dumber one last pat.

Clint swallowed, tugging some grass and passing it through the fence to Dumber, who gobbled it as if it were candy. “Okay.”