Jim and Chad, Part 2 - 30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

 

How I got here is kind of hazy, but I know that I'm lying on my back and still fully clothed. I can't quite see what's going on because the sun is in my eyes, but I can certainly feel what's going on. Someone is lying next to me, kissing me lightly under my left ear. Happiness and contentment flow throughout my body as I feel a big, warm hand comb its way through the hair on my chest and stomach, occasionally stopping to lightly pinch one of my nipples.

 

I turn my head to the right and open my eyes to figure out where I am, but all I see is clear, blue sky. Then I hear the quiet, deep voice. "Relax, bud. We're all alone here with nobody else for miles." When I turn my head to the left, I see Jeff's face, those sparkling eyes, and that disarming, bright smile.

 

I lift my head for a moment to watch Jeff's hand as it moves all over my chest. He has unbuttoned my shirt completely, open for all the cloudless heavens above us to watch what he's doing. When I rest my head back against whatever we're lying on, I look back over to Jeff and catch the wild-eyed look of lust in his eyes. My reaction to that look is as predictable as a sunrise: the part of me that's still covered by my jeans just below the belt buckle gets quickly and uncomfortably hard.

 

Jeff moves his right hand under my head to give it some padding, then moves his head over mine, a halo forming around it as it blocks the sun. At first I think that Jeff is no angel, but all thoughts are quickly banished from my brain as he slowly moves down toward me. I do what I did earlier on the path today--I close my eyes and tilt my head waiting for his kiss. I feel his warm breath, then feel his lips touch mine, a short burst of electricity passing between us. As he pushes gently into the kiss, I once again enjoy the soft texture of his lips and the slight roughness of his mustache and goatee against my face. The feeling is so intense that I can't help moaning.

 

As the kiss deepens and our tongues begin to battle one another, Jeff slowly moves his hand from my stomach down to my jeans-covered crotch. With that big paw of his, he rubs everything and everywhere in that highly sensitive area. I moan again into the kiss, this time loudly, because even through jeans, the sensation of his hand kneeding and massaging me is far beyond what I ever thought it could be. My brain and body abandon all common sense, and all I can think is this: if he wants me here, he can have me here.

 

Unfortunately, Jeff pulls his head back, moves his hand back up to my stomach, rubs it a little, and says, "Sorry, bud, but it's time to wake up."

 

I'm confused as I watch Jeff's face fade away and everything go gray. Then I feel a gentle movement against the side of my head and hear Jeff's deep voice say, "Jim, time to wake up."

 

When I open my eyes, I see the little valley by Mary Jane Falls, but everything is tilted to the side. After another second or two, I jerk upright because I finally remember that I'm on a hike with Jeff. We'd stopped so I could rest my feet, and I had rested my head on his shoulder.

 

I'm suddenly embarrassed that not only did I fall asleep, but I also had an erotic dream about the two of us. And, as usual, my face flushes with the embarrassment. But another part of me deep down inside sighs and feels disappointed when it realizes that those erotic moments with Jeff were just a dream.

 

A deep, rumbling laugh from Jeff sitting next to me pulls me out of my thoughts. When I look over at him, I see the wide grin on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So how was your dream?"

 

"What dream?" I ask, trying to sound naive and trying to avoid his question by playing like I never fell asleep.

 

With a loud laugh, Jeff says, "Oh, come on now. First you snore, then you moan a couple of times. You were dreaming." After a short pause he asks, "So how was I?"

 

At first I'm astonished that he would ask such a question. How could he possibly know that he was in my dream? But I quickly realize that this is Jeff, the one who's always trying to embarrass me. I can't tell from the look on his face, but I have to hope that he's making a guess that he was in the dream.

 

Unfortunately for me, my body betrays me once again and lets reality be known. I feel my face flush even more, although I try desperately not to let it happen. I would get up and walk away, but then I'd have to adjust what's in my jeans right in front of Jeff and give him the satisfaction of being right. So instead I just turn my head away.

 

Jeff leans toward me, gently bumps my shoulder with his, and chucklingly asks, "Oooooh, that good, huh?"

 

A devious, small voice inside me tells me to fight fire with fire, give the grief back to him, and don't let him have all the fun. After a couple of seconds I finally come up with a plan. Don't know how it'll work out, but maybe it'll be fun.

 

With my head still turned away, I quietly say, "Yeah, I was dreaming about you." I feel the heat in my face subside some as I look back toward him, but not directly at him. "You were pretty good. No, actually you were really good. I was lying on my back on a big, flat rock somewhere out in the open. I think it was up on the saddle point part of the trail to Charleston Peak where we met, maybe on the west side looking out over the desert."

 

I shyly look up to his eyes. The somewhat serious look on his face tells me that he's hooked and wants to hear more. With a more sensual tone, I continue. "You were on my left side, lying next to me, with your right hand under my head. You were kissing me like earlier today, with deep tongue action. You told me to relax, that we were all alone." I look out into the little canyon in front of us, stop for a moment, then chuckle. "Damn, you're a good kisser."

 

In an effort to draw him into the story even more, I invent more details than were actually in the dream, but I keep all the action above the belt. Soon I know that I'm successful because he leans toward me. "We still had our clothes on, but you had completely unbuttoned my shirt. Your hand was wandering all over my chest and stomach, tweaking the nipples and rubbing everything. Then your hand started at my chest and began wandering down over my stomach, making its way further south than it had been before."

 

At that point in the story, I put the last step of my little plan into motion. I calmly look down at my watch, see that it's four o'clock, then quickly say, "Oh, my. Will you look at the time. We have to go. I have to be back at the cabin by five." Then I jump down from the rock we're sitting on and with my back turned to him, adjust myself for walking comfort.

 

When I turn back to look at Jeff, I try to remain serious. The look on his face is a priceless combination of disbelief and anger because I had cut the story short. But that look quickly changes to something that looks like sexual panic, almost as if I had pushed him away from me at the last second, leaving him with an raging hard-on and blue balls. I'm barely able to suppress my laughter, but I know that I can't stop the broad grin that I feel covering my face.

 

It takes him couple of seconds but he finally recovers, the glazed-over eyes changing to a squinting, pissed off look. "And?" he asks.

 

I wait for another couple of seconds, then say, "And . . . and that's when you woke me up. If you'd let me sleep a little longer, I would've had more to tell." I try really hard to keep from laughing, but soon I can't stand it any longer and burst out laughing anyway.

 

After a few more seconds, Jeff finally gets it. He hangs his head and shakes it--he finally knows that he's been had. But the look he gives me when he looks back up sends chills of nervous excitement throughout my body, especially that part below my belt buckle. With a sparkle in his eyes and a sly grin on his face, he quietly growls, "You got me now, but just wait. I'll get you back later."

 

I stand there a few moments waiting for him to get down from the rock. But when he doesn't get down, I ask, "I really do need to get back to the cabin by five, so, um, can we go now?" while pointing down the trail toward the cabins.

 

Jeff still doesn't budge, and now his face is coloring slightly. He's still not moving, and the new, anxious look on his face has me concerned. "You okay, bud?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just give me a couple more minutes and I'll be ready to go." Then he nonchalantly crosses one leg over the other.

 

I must be dense because I'm still not getting it. Why isn't he getting down? What problem could possibly go away in a couple of minutes or less? The anxious look on his face isn't giving me any clue as to what he means. And what's with crossing his legs?

 

All of the sudden it hits me: my story got him hard and uncomfortable, and he needs time to "deflate." I try to keep from laughing, but it comes out in fits and spurts anyway.

 

In response, Jeff's face gets even redder.

 

'Bingo,' I say to myself. He now knows that I know. I can't hold it back any longer, so I burst out laughing once again.

 

Eventually I get it all back under control. I walk over to where he's sitting, his position on the rock just a little higher than me, his eyes just a little higher than mine. I put one hand on top of the other, both on top of his knee, then look him in the eye. I know that I'm grinning broadly and shaking my head as I say, "I can now die a happy man because I one-upped you this one time. I've been more embarrassed around you in the last 24 hours than I have in my whole life, and I'm actually happy that I've embarrassed you once. Just to let you know, part of me really, really wants to embarrass you some more."

 

I pause for a few seconds, then changing to a serious mood, I quietly say, "But I'm not going to do that this time because true friends don't do that to each other, well, at least if one doesn't want the other to. I'm going to turn and start walking down the path so that I'm facing away from you. You do whatever you need to do and catch up with me, okay?"

 

Jeff slowly nods his head up and down, and the redness begins to lessen in his face. When he sighs, I watch his whole body relax, and his demeanor changes from tense to grateful after hearing that I'm not going to do or say more.

 

Before I let go, I look deeply into those intense, dark forest green colored eyes once again. At first it's just a feeling, but it's a strong one. I stand in admiration of this awesome, and now incredibly humble, guy. Shaking my head back and forth slightly, I'm finally able to express my feelings. "But I guess I'll never understand why you're so embarrassed and so humble about something that ALL other males in the world would be bragging about."

 

Neither of us says anything for a few moments after that. We continue to look at each other, and I feel my love for Jeff grow even more. Deep down inside, a small, shy part of me is hoping that he's feeling the same for me, because he truly is one of a kind.

 

I finally pull myself away from that moment, pushing myself away from his knee, then turning around and heading down the trail. Although part of me really, really wants to look, I hold to my word and don't look back.

 

It takes a couple of minutes, but Jeff finally catches up, his big loping body pulling up beside me on the wide trail back down to the cabins.

 

We walk in silence for a few minutes until I have to ask, "So what's with the lawyer and the pickup truck? I thought Mike would be driving something like a BMW or a Mercedes or maybe even a Lexus."

 

Jeff quietly chuckles and says, "Actually, that's my truck, uh, my work truck."

 

Now I know that I'm about to cross a line with him, but I have to find out if Jeff is a real West Texas man. "Oh, okay. But you do know the phrases many people use for that brand of truck is 'Found On Road Dead' or 'Fixed Or Repaired Daily' right?"

 

True to form for this breed of man, Jeff stops dead in his tracks, sneers at me, and says in a clipped, angry voice, "You wouldn't be one of those fucking Chevy bigots, would you?"

 

The quick change in mood is nothing short of amazing, and the new chill I feel from Jeff confirms what I had thought. I shake my head at him as I feel a big grin moving onto my face again. "I apologize for that remark, but I just had to see if you fit the profile I'm used to. I learned very early in my days in Texas never to badmouth a Texas man's truck, at least not if you want to be accepted in that community. Choice of truck is almost a religion for some Texas men, and I see that it is for you, too."

 

After a few seconds, I begin to think that I've permanently damaged my relationship with Jeff by making the comment. But soon he hangs his head down and shakes it while chuckling. "Damn, that's twice in a row that you've gotten me. I must be falling down on the job." And we laugh together as a feeling of relief flows through me. I still have him as a friend.

 

As we start walking down the path again, I start rambling. "At one time I almost bought a 2007 Ford F250. It was a Lariat Outlaw edition with dark gray exterior and light gray interior. I wanted to call it 'Gray Ghost.' I loved everything about that truck, especially how the front end looked. The headlights, turn lights, and grill were proportioned just right. And you could get some really nice looking chrome grillwork or even grillwork which matched the color of the body. That made it look nice, something that you could actually take out for a nice evening on the town, not something utilitarian like most trucks."

 

I go on to describe my dream truck to Jeff, who seems to stare at me intently as we walk down the path. "But I was going to have to switch out the leather seats for cloth ones. I hate leather seats. They're too hot and sticky in the summer and too cold in the winter. And I was going to put a heavy duty front bumper with grill and brush guards on it. Found one from Warn Industries in Oregon that I loved. Not a wimpy chrome one or a bull bar, but one with heavy steel on the bottom and two-inch steel tubes for the guards on the top. Something that really said 'Don't fuck with me.'" I pause for a second, remembering that truck. Even though I was going to have to make some changes to it, it was still my rolling dream.

 

"Unfortunately, Ford screwed up the looks on the 2008 and later models. The proportion just wasn't the same. The grill was way too big, but my two biggest complaints were the words 'Super Duty' all over everything and the way they redesigned the headlights and turn lights. The light cluster was tall and narrow and the headlights were on the bottom. Headlights should be at least side-by-side to turn signals, and headlights always look better when they're on top. Some things just belong on the top." I add quietly, "Like you," then look over at Jeff's face.

 

Jeff's eyes quickly find mine, and I think I see his face getting a little red. But he soon looks away and doesn't say anything as we continue to walk down the path. I turn my head away from him to look down the path, then get lost in my thoughts about that truck. Sometimes I still regret not buying that truck, but times were changing back then.

 

"So did you buy something else?" Jeff asks quietly.

 

His question breaks into my thoughts, bringing me back to now. "Yeah. Diesel, actually fuel of any kind was outlandishly expensive at the time, so when I heard some guy with a similar truck make a comment about how it was going to cost more to feed his truck than his family, I had to rethink the purchase."

 

After a short pause, I continue. "I bought a foreign, mid-sized hybrid SUV instead. I needed something with four-wheel drive and some room to carry stuff. But I also thought I should do something 'environmentally friendly.' It's been a good SUV, and I've saved a fair amount on gas. And I figured that since I had a little extra money, I should help fund part of the research and development of alternative transporation for this planet. But I can't really go camping in it like I could a truck. Throw a couple of sleeping bags in the back a truck, and lots of things could happen. . . ." I let my voice trail off as I think of all the things I could have done with, and in, that truck, especially with someone else in those sleeping bags.

 

We walk in a companionable silence for the rest of our trip back to the cabins. I try to start a conversation a couple of times during the remaining part of our walk, but it appears that Jeff has lapsed back into the "strong, silent one" again, and there's not much I can do to get him to talk.

 

When we arrive at the cabins, we split apart, Jeff going to the steps in front of his cabin while I go to the top of the ramp that takes me down to my cabin. As I pause there to look up at Jeff, a moment of dread suddenly passes through me as I think that this is the last time that we'll get to see each other.

 

Jeff must have seen the look on my face or sensed something was wrong, because he leaves his spot by the door and walks to a new spot a couple of feet downhill from me on the ramp. As I turn to be face-to-face with him, all of my senses zero in on his serious face. All other noises and sights are shut out, and I no longer care what others might think about the two of us.

 

He gently touches and caresses the side of my face with a single hand. I'm still warm from the return hike, but for some reason, the heat of his hand makes me shiver, probably from excitement more than anything else. I put one of my hands on his to hold and keep it against my face for a while.

 

Jeff's eyes search my face, then lock onto my eyes. After another few moments, he quietly says, "We have so much in common. It's almost as if I've known you forever." He draws in a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh. "And if Mike weren't in the picture right now, you know we'd be doing so much more than standing here, don't you?"

 

As expected, the implication of his question makes my face blush quickly. As it heats up under his hand, Jeff's face changes from serious to something of a smirk, giving me the indication that he's thinking, 'Yeah, you know what we'd be doing.'

 

I slyly retort, "Yeah. But I'd want to know what I'm getting myself into, so you'd have to let me measure you first."

 

I know I've gotten to Jeff when he inhales quickly from my surprise reply and his face turns red to match mine. Then he lets out quiet, deep laugh as he says, "Damn, you're getting good at this."

 

"I learned from a master," I quickly reply.

 

As we both laugh at the situation, I gently pull his hand away from my face. However, I keep holding onto it, making sure not to break the connection between us.

 

"Please have dinner with me tonight?" Jeff asks.

 

My face must have brightened at his request, because a look of relief with a wide grin quickly appears on his face.

 

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I say, making the wording deliberate in reference to yesterday's conversation. "Meet you here a little after six to go to the lodge?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Jeff is the first to move, spinning me slowly around on the ramp because we're holding hands, then breaking our handhold as he slowly moves away from me toward his cabin door. He briefly looks away to unlock and open his door, then looks back at me. With a small nod of his head and a quiet "See ya," he heads inside.

 

As I'm left standing there on the ramp, I feel a major battle beginning to brew in my brain. On one side are all the voices that are shouting, 'To hell with Mike, capture what's now yours.' On the other side is the single voice of reality saying, 'Keep it in your pants, bud, because Jeff isn't yours, he's Mike's. Don't set yourself up for another major disappointment.'

 

I sigh as that one little voice seems to be making the most sense, at least for right now. I know I shouldn't expect anything from Jeff, especially not a relationship when he's still "attached" to Mike. So it's with mixed feelings, part euphoric over Jeff's attention and part doubtful about how long it will last, that I slowly make my way down the ramp to my cabin.

 

As I get to my door, I pull out the key and open it easily. I chuckle to myself as I think of the problems I had the night before. But as I stand there before going inside, a gut feeling tells me to turn around and look up the hill.

 

My eyes quickly find him there, bigger than life, grinning like a Cheshire cat while leaning against one of the posts which support the roof of his cabin's deck. My heart thumps harder and quicker when I see him, and his huge grin makes me laugh. When he laughs too, I call up, "Go get showered and ready for dinner, you big lug."

 

I know I'm emotionally in trouble (again) when he doesn't move and his face slowly changes from that huge grin to something almost too serious to handle. Those eyes flash a message that makes me weak in the knees, and the result is a loud outcry from the crowds of voices in my brain telling me to go back to his cabin and do the things we laughed about. But once again, that little voice of reality keeps me rooted in this one spot when it says, 'Leave it alone for now. You still have Chad's last note to read.'

 

As much as I don't want to, I finally pull myself away from that spell-binding view of Jeff, step inside and slowly close the door behind me, wondering how this is all going to turn out. But of all that I think about, one particular question weighs heavily in my brain: as much as I love Jeff and as much as I think he loves me, after Mike gets here tomorrow, will I be the one left all alone once again?