Free Waiting for Rain by Susan Mac Nicol Page B

been a stroke of inspiration.
    Rain didn’t look convinced. “You want me to fuck you on top of a haystack?”
    I looked at him in surprise. “Oh no. I’m the one doing the fucking.”
    “The hell you are,” he growled. “I haven’t bottomed in ages. There’s no way I’m letting you fuck me.”
    My temper flared. “Why did you automatically assume I’d be the one bottoming?” His past “twink” comment started to drift through my brain.
    His comeback was swift. “Why did you?”
    We stood and looked at each other, hands clenched at our sides, breaths hard and fast. It was aptly described as a Mexican standoff, especially seeing as how I was still so hard I could have gone to space using my cock as a rocket.
    “So what do we do now?” Rain asked quietly as he watched my face. I shrugged, feeling a little hurt at his complete reluctance to let me inside him.
    “I suppose we go home and forget about it. Keep doing what we’re doing. Groping and sucking each other off. The mood’s gone a bit now, hasn’t it?” I knew I was being bloody minded about the whole thing. I honestly didn’t mind top or bottom usually, but I’d really wanted it to be me in him first. He laid a hand on my arm as I turned to go back to the car.
    “Wait.” I looked at him, seeing the shadow in his eyes even in the dim light. His face was still. “I need to explain something.” He swallowed. “I got hurt once that way. Pretty badly, and I just haven’t been able to trust anyone since then with… you know.” He gestured with his hand, then sighed slightly. “I suppose we should have shared all of this with each other before we started this thing, yeah?”
    My heart had fallen at his admission that someone had once hurt him in such a fashion. I hadn’t thought something like that could ever happen to someone as confident and put together as Rain Engel. The look on his face made my heart ache.
    “I’m sorry, Rain. I guess we should have spoken about it before instead of assuming.” He nodded and gazed down at the ground. Somewhere an owl hooted, and we both started. The wind had picked up slightly, a warm breeze that caressed my face and made my hair ruffle lightly. Rain lifted his head, watching me with an expression of yearning. I had to say something, so I had another bright idea. I’d watched Dirty Dancing only a few days ago—on my own, I have to say. I couldn’t blame being forced to watch it by Tammy for that one. I was a big Patrick Swayze fan for obvious gay-man reasons. “Fine. You can fuck me. But first you have to dance for me.”
    His jaw nearly hit the ground. “What?”
    “You heard me. You have to dance for me. A Rain dance, with a capital R.” I was starting to enjoy myself now. “The farmers have been complaining that they need rain. Your name is Rain, we’re out in a field, surrounded by nature, a full moon, and it’s nearly midnight. That sounds very auspicious to me. So do a Rain dance for me. Then you can have me on top of that haystack.”
    His eyes were hooded as he stared, first at my groin then back up to my face. He looked very turned on but still worried. “Are there any animals in that field? You know, cows, horses… sheep?” He shuddered. I looked at him, a little nonplussed.
    I’d offered him my arse, and he was worried about livestock?
    “Not that I know of. Dave does have some sheep, but they’re kept on another field.” I saw him shiver again. I frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t like farm animals?”
    He muttered, and I leaned in toward him. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
    He glowered at me in the dim light from the moon. “I said I don’t like bloody sheep.”
    I nodded. “I see. Why not? Sheep are nice, woolly, cute animals.”
    He looked distinctly ill. “I can’t agree with that. I really don’t like them.”
    I didn’t quite know what to say to this rather surreal conversation about my man having an obvious phobia of the ovine