"Love, Trust, and Secrets"

Chapter 1-2

Jarod reached his destination, with Tyler never moving. Watching the peaceful man, Jarod couldn’t wrap his mind around what the heck he was doing. Why hadn’t he left this guy at the bar, left him to be someone else’s problem? No instead, he’d let the other man’s obvious fear get to him. Why the hell is he so scared? And why does it matter to me so much? He knew the answer immediately. Because the man had asked for Jarod’s help, and Jarod wasn’t one to turn down anybody. Especially someone who’d acted as desperate as Tyler.

Jarod stepped out of the truck and strode to the house. Once he unlocked the door, he headed back to the truck to gather his belongings, which now included one passed-out guy. With some cajoling, Jarod roused Tyler enough for the man to help with the walk to the guest room.

Jarod’s first priority was to make Tyler comfortable. Jarod helped the still-half-asleep Tyler get off his coat and shoes. As soon as Jarod put him into bed, Tyler curled into a little ball, appearing helpless.

Jarod fought against wanting to stay in the room with Tyler, it was important he check Tyler’s vitals. Jarod moved into his own bedroom, opened his closet, and pulled out his medical bag. Then he rushed back to the guest room to find Tyler hadn’t moved.

Jarod’s mind was set—if he found anything out of the ordinary, he would take Tyler to the hospital, regardless of how much the guy begged him not to. Tyler being okay was more important than any fear he might have. Thankfully, Tyler’s blood pressure was normal, and his pulse strong and steady. Jarod breathed a little easier.

The next step would be to pump Tyler full of fluids to flush the remaining drugs out of his system.

With Tyler appearing to be comfortable, Jarod headed to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of cranberry juice. He diluted it with water.

A scream echoed through the house.

Jarod raced into the room. But the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Tyler’s pants were bunched around his ankles, while he stroked his c**k as if his life depended on it and tears streamed down his face.

Stunned, Jarod gaped, not sure what the hell was happening. The thought that this whole thing might be a setup crossed his mind one second before Tyler shot off like a geyser. The pained expression that crossed his face confused Jarod as much as the entire situation.

“What the hell—?”

“It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts,” Tyler screamed, his anguish evident.

Stupefied, Jarod continued to stare. Tyler’s c**k—red, angry, and still hard, even after just shooting a load—remained gripped in his hand.

What the hell is going on? Trying to ask just that, Jarod moved closer to Tyler.

Ignoring him, as if he weren’t there, Tyler appeared to be on a mission, vigorously stroking his c**k as c*m dribbled out. He had a crazed look in his eyes, and he was practically incoherent—screaming, begging Jarod to help him as he continued rubbing himself long after his c**k went dry.

The night turned endless. With Jarod trying to think of what drug would cause such a side effect, he stood helpless, watching as Tyler endured more pain than anyone should.