Safe in His Arms Read Free Page A

clatter as Lon dumped his toiletries somewhere inside before calling, “Hurry up, I’m nearly asleep on my feet.”
    Casey hurried on up the stairs. The caravan had a small kitchen, a curved seat around a small table, and a double bed at the far end. Lon was standing near the bed, unashamedly naked and pointing his finger in the direction of the mattress. “You can have the wall. Jump in while I secure the door. I plan to be asleep in thirty seconds.”
    A shiver spiraled down Casey’s spine as Lon pushed past him and back out. That huge cock was a monster—both flaccid and aroused. It was accompanied by a large sack with two large balls inside. It was the biggest Casey had seen in person—which really wasn’t saying much, but was still worth noting. And Casey wanted to take lots of notes. If the subject of Lon’s cock had been a high school subject, then he’d have been a star pupil. His notebooks would’ve been filled with writing, and his homework completed every single night.
    He quickly stripped, eager to obey Lon’s instructions. He had no nightclothes—not even boxer shorts to slip into—so he crawled across the mattress naked and dived under the sheets. He heard a zipper sound as Lon locked the door of the annex, then the van tilted slightly as Lon reentered. He closed and locked the caravan door, extinguished the lights, and then climbed into the bed.
    “Good night.”
    Lon’s rough voice floated over to Casey where he was curled up against the wall. The bed was too small for Lon, so his feet were surely hanging off the edge. He knew that Lon was tired, but Casey needed the human contact, so he snaked a hand under the covers until it hit skin. Then he curled his fingers around that piece of flesh, which turned out to be a solid, hairy forearm, and sighed, relaxing into the soft mattress and pillow.
    “Thank you,” he whispered into the darkness and heard Lon grunt in reply. Within seconds Lon was asleep. Casey could tell by the way he crashed—his breathing deepened, his whole body relaxed and—oh, yeah—the couple of snores that chain-sawed from his mouth were a good indication. Casey didn’t mind the snoring. It was a real thing. None of that fake emotion that some guys gave you.
    Casey’s head had been fucked with too much for him to decipher real emotion from pretend. First his father had fucked with his mind, and then his therapist. He should’ve really found another therapist since moving to Perth, as he’d promised his mother he would, but somehow that had been lost in his need to feel normal. Normal people didn’t need therapists, and Casey so much wanted to be just a regular Joe.
    His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the caravan to a point where he could see Lon’s shadowed face. He’d watched earlier as Lon had shaved both his face and his head, but he knew that in the morning, Lon would be a big bear again. He shivered in anticipation. Was his desire for Lon real? Or simply a figment of his psyche?
    He remembered the first meeting with Margaret, his court-appointed, government-paid counselor. At that stage he was still a shell-shocked fourteen-year-old, reeling from the events of the previous week and still wearing the fading bruises his own father had put there. He’d been scared, apprehensive, and weary of his life being torn apart by forces he had no control over. His mother had driven him to Margaret’s office and then left him. He knew now that his mother had been dealing with her own guilt and couldn’t face what she had allowed to happen, but at the time, it had seemed like another betrayal. Margaret had welcomed him with a pleasant smile and a calm tone. He’d allowed a sliver of hope—maybe this woman could take all the bad away.
    She had helped. Oh, she didn’t take the bad away, but she helped him deal with the bad stuff. She made him realize it was not his fault, that he hadn’t asked for it, that it wasn’t right, and that sometimes bad things happen to people