CHAPTER 18: PATRICK

_ TWO WEEKS WITHOUT HIM _

_ ARE DREAMS REALITY? _

August's hands are warm as they trace the curve of my back then he's pulling me into his hard body. His breath is hot against my neck, lips scorching my skin, and sending welcoming shivers down my spine. We're an entanglement of limbs and gasps, the world around us fading away until it's just him, and me, and that unmistakably unique feeling of belonging.

This man is my home.

His lips brush softly against mine, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes my heart race and time stand still. I could feel the strength of his arms as they wrap around me, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips syncing with the beat of my own. It's perfect, this moment—so damn perfect I never want it to end.

[August] "Patrick, you feel so good." He whispers, his tantalizing voice full of all the things we never said aloud. His eyes, those deep, endless pools of golden warmth, stare into mine as if he could see right through me, through all the layers of stubbornness and pride as he ascends the walls of my castle, and we gaze upon the millions of stars above us.

[Patrick] "Please. I need ye inside me." I beg and lean in for another kiss, desperate to hold onto this moment, to keep him here with me for just a little longer; forever. As our lips met, something felt – off. His warmth began to fade, his touch growing colder then disappearing all together. I look around, trying to see where he ran off to.

[Patrick holler] "August?"

My eyes flutter open as I blink, lost and confused as to where he went. Glancing next to me, I'm met with the sheets cold and undisturbed where he should be. My heart sinks as reality slams into me.

It was just a dream.

I run a hand through my hair, still feeling the ghost of his touch on my skin, hearing the echo of his voice in my ears, and can sense the tingle lingering on my lips. My cock throbs under the covers, desperate and in need of his touch. Just his. But he is'ne here; he's thousands of miles away from my bed. I'm more alone now than the day he left me. I lay here, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off the ache of longing. It was just a dream, but damn if it dinnae feel like the real thing.

My mobile shows it's four in the morning; an hour before I'm usually up and out the door. I hear rain pelting the window pane informing me it's to be yet another dreich day. It would'ne be Scotland without the weather changing every ten minutes. I'd rather have the rain present; it acts as a cloak so others dinnae ask why I'm moody.

Working late nights at the pub and sleeping the mornings away, to waking up early at the farm and being in bed shortly after the sun goes down has taken two weeks to get accustomed to. Honestly I enjoy this schedule. Well, most days.

Given the ache in my groin that I ken I have to deal with, I take a chance and text August, hoping to all that is holy he responds straight away. My balls cannae take this torture a minute longer.

Me – Are ye awake?

The three dots bounce around then up pops a video call request. [delighted hum] I like this idea much better. I answer it, my heart racing at the thought of seeing him. Other than random pictures of our day, we have'ne had time to check-in face to face.

[August] "Does this answer your question?" August asks in that heart skipping drawl I love. In the soft lamplight of August's room I make out his well-sculpted chest, bare, with a few water droplets scattered about, a black towel tucked low across his hips, and a sleepy rasp to his voice I will never get tired of hearing. [Seductive] "Well, good mornin', stud."

[Patrick sleepily] " God . I've missed hearing that." I confess, the last tendrils of the dream slither through my mind, leaving me hard and aching for him. Two weeks of not seeing my cowboy will do that to me.

Laying in my bed, I stretch an arm over my head and give a good yawn.

[August] "Damn. Even the way you do that turns me on." He grins then releases one of his own. They're infectious, as proven by MythBusters. "See what you started!" We both chuckle then he's stripping off his towel and angling his mobile on the stand next to his bed so I can view more of him. All of him. "I've missed you, too, by the way."

My mouth waters as I watch his hand glide down his torso, wrap around his hardening length and begin lazily stroking himself. The need to be inside him is torture.

[Patrick] "I have an idea." Mobile in hand, I get out of bed, grab the bottle of lube, wander to the shower, and turn the water on. "Care to watch me get wet?"

[August] "Always." He groans as I position my mobile on the small shelf in the stall then I move under the warm spray. He angels his mobile so its spans across his bed, a bed I'd like to be in right now. We would'ne be able to keep our hands off each other. " Mmmm . Now that's what I'm talkin' about." August croons and spreads his knees wide fer the camera; one hand fondles his balls whilst the other continues on his shaft. Each stroke of his hand has him releasing a light breath.

With a wee bit of lube I grip my shaft and stare straight at the screen to watch his reaction.

[August growly] "Look at you, so fuckin' hard for me." That growl of his sends me into the stratosphere with pent up hunger.

[Patrick deep throaty groan] " Fuuuuck. " My moan is part pleasure, part agony as I grip the head of my cock to keep from spilling. I want his hands everywhere, to feel him grip me to the point of pain, to mark my skin.

He sits up on his bed and moves closer to the screen to gain a better view of me thrusting into my hand. I won't last long like this.

[August] "I've given myself blue balls so many times, replaying scenes of our times together in my head like it's the best movie I've ever watched. Resisting the urge to touch myself while thinkin' of you has been torture; I've been prayin' for a night like this." August confesses with a groan and quickens his rhythm. "I want you here so damn bad."

[Patrick] " Christ , I want that, too." I admit, my legs trembling and muscles tensing. [moans] "Fuck, August."

[August panting] "Let go, stud." He says through jerky movements, his eyes fluttering and lips parting as streams of his release land on his hand and abdomen. I smack a hand on the wall, my vision wavering as I grunt and paint the tiles with my release.

For one long moment we catch our breath, my body languid, but a sense it's still not satiated. It needs more. It needs him.

August is first to speak, his eyes lighting with an awakened hunger.

[August] "Give me ten minutes. Then we're doin' that again."

After another round of overdue teasing, banter, and play, we've lapsed into a comfortable silence for the last few minutes, the only sound the rustling of my clothes as I finish dressing fer the day. I glance at the screen and see August stifling a yawn, his eyes half-closed and a look he's damn near sated.

[Patrick] "Ye should get some sleep, mate." I say, smiling at him. "Don't want ye dozing off whilst on yer horse."

He sighs lazily, his eyes closing.

[August sleepy] "Yeah, you're right. Just didn't want to miss talking to you before I hit the hay. [satisfied] You done did me in, Scotsman."

My heart swells at his words, but I keep my tone light.

[Patrick] "Well, I'm glad I got to see ye, so much of ye . It made my morning that much better, so thank ye."

He hums approvingly, his smile spreading wide.

[August] "Well, would you look at that. I think I'm rubbing off on you. Where is my stubborn Scotsman at?"

[Patrick annoyed] "Goodnight, August." I roll my eyes at him making him chuckle.

[August] "Have a great day at work." Another yawn escapes him. "Tell Wilma hello for me."

[Patrick] "I will. Sleep well, cowboy."

With that, he ends the call, his face disappearing from my screen and leaving me staring at my reflection.

I stand there a moment, mobile still in hand, as the room suddenly feels a lot quieter, so much emptier. The forty minutes we spent talking felt wonderful, but now that it's over, the emptiness crashes over me like a tidal wave, settling deep within me.

I dinnae ken what to do with this feeling, this hollowness that only seems to grow every time we hang up. I toss my phone onto the bed, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

Nothing seems to make the ache go away—not the work at my family's farm, not the nights out at a pub fer a drink, not even the joy when I'm surrounded by the animals, even Wilma cannae cure me.

At the end of the day, when the noise fades and I'm alone with my thoughts, all I can think about is August and how much I miss him. How much I wish he was here, beside me, instead of so far away.

Wishing does'ne change anything. And that emptiness inside me? It's not going anywhere, no matter how hard I try to ignore it. I have no other choice but to live like this. Maybe over time it'll fade then one day it will be a distant memory.

With a heavy sigh, I grab my jacket and head out the door, trying to push the feelings aside and brace myself for another day.