Totally Trucked: An M/m Opposites Attract Age Gap Romance Read online

  I might not be able to promise Logan the world, but I can give him an amazing fucking memory he can carry with him forever.

  If he’s struggling at Betty’s or with his painting, he can think back to his night and immediately feel warmth and comfort.

  I’m going to ask him to dance with me.

  “Hey.” I lean across the table and take his palm in mine. “You deserve better, Logan. It sucks your parents fucked up big time, but you made the right decision to leave them behind.”

  Tears well in Logan’s eyes. “Thanks, Jax.” He blinks hard. “Ugh. This is why I don’t talk about it. Fuck.”

  “Do you need a distraction?”

  Logan nods. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. This might be too forward, so please tell me if it is. But I want you to dance with me.”

  Logan’s jaw drops. “Dance?”

  I nod. “Yup. One dance. Tilly is playing Miranda Lambert, and the song is perfect for slow dancing. Normally I don’t dance, but it might take your mind off your asshole parents.”

  Logan rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay, Jax. Sure, I’ll dance with you.”

  I take Logan and lead him to the dance floor.

  11

  Logan

  I take Jax’s hand and follow him to the dance floor, my heart trembling as Miranda Lambert plays over the speakers.

  It’s a song about the house she grew up in and how she comes back to visit it.

  I’ve heard it at Betty’s, and it never ceases to bring tears to my eyes.

  But I’ll be damned if I cry again tonight. Not when we’re making memories.

  Jax takes my hand in his as we enter the dance floor. “Don’t cry. Before I leave, I want to give you a happy memory.”

  His words turn me into a great tub of jello. “Thanks. This means so much to me.”

  Taking my hand, Jax leads me to the center of the dance floor. Couples and single ladies are already dancing.

  The townspeople of Bear Springs know how to let loose on a Friday night.

  Tilly sees us dancing. From behind the bar, she cranks the tunes. “You two are so cute. I’ll be damned if you’re not engaged by the end of the night.”

  I snort and shake my head. “You wish, Tilly.” I don’t say what I’m really thinking.

  Jax slips his left hand around my waist, and pulls me flush with him. “He can serve a mean omelet, can he slow dance?”

  An electric shock surges through my midsection as our bodies collide, and I’m fucking hard.

  We haven’t even begun dancing yet, and already Jax is doing unspeakable things to my body.

  “Can you feel that?” I whisper, my voice timid as a field mouse.

  My heart is beating out of my chest, but I don’t want Jax to feel my heartbeat.

  I want him to feel my cock.

  Jax snickers. “Either you have a brick phone from the nineties in your pocket, or you really like dancing.”

  My cheeks burn and spark in the bar light. I press myself against him yet again, and decide to confess my truth. “I’ve never danced with a guy before. I guess”

  Jax’s jaw drops. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Jax, though clearly brilliant, can’t wrap his head around this. “Jesus, he’s the cutest guy in Bear Springs, but he hasn’t danced with a man. I find that hard to believe.”

  “Believe it, sister,” I mutter. “I attended senior prom with Forest. But he was still in the closet then, so he wouldn’t dance with me.”

  Jax shakes his head. He’s pretending to be disappointed, but he’s totally loving the fact that he’s popping my dancing cherry. “Forest is a clown. I can’t believe he wouldn’t slow dance with you at prom.”

  I can’t help but laugh and move even closer to Jax. “Well, we did the bunny hop. But I don’t think that counts.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “But this does,” Jax whispers in a low guttural voice, inching closer to me.

  At once, a wave of nervousness washes over me, and I nearly swoon; but Jax wraps his other arm around my waist and catches me.

  He brings his face close to mind, until we’re dancing cheek-to-cheek.

  Lights and people flicker and fade in the distance, until he’s the only man at Tilly’s I see.

  My voice trembles as I speak. “Thank you, Jax. This means so much to me.”

  Jax nods and rubs his cheek against mine. His scruff causes my heart to race, and my cock spasms in my jeans. Damn, Jax is good at dancing.

  I bet the Truck n’ Munch guy couldn’t dance like Jax.

  Just the thought of the Truck n’ Munch guy causes something gross and sick to fester in my belly.

  I don’t want to think of him, not with Jax by my side.

  But it’s crazy, because I definitely was obsessed with him. I went to the glory hole God knows how many fucking times, hoping to bump into him. But nope. Nada. He didn’t show.

  Clearly, he found someone else, so good riddance.

  I have Jax now, and he has me… At least for tonight.

  Jax lets out a deep hot breath that grazes my ear, and tingles overwhelm me. “You’re a good dancer, kid.”

  I whimper in his arms. “You too.”

  Jax is lost in thought. “I wish we could do this more.”

  His words hurt me. I stop dancing and direct my gaze towards him.

  I won’t say it, but I’m trying to tell him it’s simple.

  All Jax has to do is quit his job and move to Bear Springs or invite me on the road with him.

  Of course, he’d have to support me, at least until I find a job or start making money with my art, but it could happen.

  It’d take effort, but it’d be worth it to me.

  Jax fixes his gaze on me. “You’re so damn perfect, Logan. I’m the most selfish man in the world, because I’m damn near ready to ask you to wait for me until I get back to Bear Springs.”

  His words take the breath out of me. “I can wait,” I whisper, knowing damn well I can’t keep that promise if I want to.

  Jax ignores me. “It’s so fucking selfish of me. I’m not going to ask you to do something I wouldn’t do myself.”

  My stomach sinks. He wouldn’t wait for me?

  Oh.

  Oh.

  “It’s okay, Jax.” I stare earnestly into his eyes. The heat is overwhelming, and I’m pretty fucking sure his aching hardness is pressed against me, but I won’t say this out loud. “We promised each other one night. That way I won’t get hurt, and you won’t catch feelings.”

  “Exactly,” Jax echoes, drawing the word out as if he doesn’t want to say this at all. My gut tells me Jax doesn’t mean this. He wants to stay with me.

  But he can’t. It’s crazy.

  In one quick motion, Jax grips my jaw and tilts my head up. I let out a soft gasp and stare into his eyes. I know what he’s going to ask. He wants to kiss me.

  But I don’t want him to ask. I want him kiss me, touch me, sweep me off my feet.

  My heart trembles as I speak. “Kiss me,” I whisper. “I want you to kiss me.”

  That’s all Jax needs. Removing his hand from my jaw and placing it on my cheek, he guides his lips to mine and kisses me.

  The sensation is electric, overwhelming.

  His lips disintegrate the floor, and before I can stop myself, I’m lost, hopelessly, suspended in the middle of the bar with Jax holding me.

  Bar-goers and Friday-night patrons fade to the wings as his musk and mouth envelop me, and I kiss him back, harder than ever.

  I thrust my tongue into his hot wet mouth in a last-ditch effort to hold onto this moment forever, to possess him eternally, to force him to put down roots in this little town and stay with me.

  “Jax,” I whisper against his lips, our breaths mingling in the dim bar light. “Stay. Please.”

  Jax removes his lips from mine. He cups my cheek, shoots a predatory gaze at my pale defenseless throat and hairless Adam’s apple, before flitting his e
yes back to mine.

  “You’re so special, Logan,” he whispers, his breath hot and husky. “But I can’t promise that and you know it. Promise me you’ll never forget this kiss.”

  I shake my head hard enough to throw it out of its socket. “Never,” I promise, letting Jax know how much his words and gestures mean to me. “I’ll keep it in my little heart forever. But you have to promise to do the same.”

  Jax nods and runs his thumb over my cheek. “I promise.”

  “Where will you keep this kiss?” I ask, my voice quivering as I fight back tears.

  Jax pauses a moment. At last, he says, “Here,” and brings his hand to his heart. “Right here. Thank you, Logan.”

  I sigh and collapse in Jax’s arms. By now, the song has changed, and I don’t care what it is. My heart feels like fucking lead. Jax is leaving. My Jax is going away.

  Agreeing to this first-date-that’s-not-a-date was the worst fucking idea of my life.

  Luckily, my phone vibrates and distracts me. “One second,” I say, sliding it out of my pocket. I wouldn’t normally answer my phone on a date, but it’s Forest. I’m worried a pipe burst or something.

  But no. Forest wants to know about the Truck n’ Munch.

  I let Jax know I really don’t want to answer this call by scrunching my face together and making a sick expression.

  Also, I put the call on speaker so Jax hears. Even though Jax doesn’t seem like the jealous type, I don’t want him thinking another man is calling me. Then I answer. “Forest?”

  His voice is echoey and far away. “I’m in the bathroom,” he hisses. He’s clearly trying to whisper so no one overhears him, but it doesn’t work, because I have him on speaker. “But I forget which stall to go to.”

  Oh Jesus. “Come on, Forest. I thought the house burnt down. I can’t answer your dumbass questions about the Truck n’ Munch tonight.”

  I shoot a pleading glance at Jax. I don’t want to talk to him! I swear.

  Forest groans. “Please, dude. I’ve been meaning to go for months, and I finally got the courage tonight. But I have no idea which stall to go to, so you have to help me.”

  I scowl into the distance. “I’m so pissed. I’m with Jax, asshole. You’re interrupting our date.”

  Jax says nothing.

  Forest lets out an exasperated groan. “Just tell me which stall you went to. Is it the last stall on the left or right?”

  This is getting on my last nerves. “It’s the stall on the left,” I say, bringing my finger to my temple. I’m going to kill Forest when I get home tonight. “It has a giant hole in the middle, so you can’t miss it. If the bathroom’s empty, wait until someone arrives. Then you tap three times.”

  Forest is preparing to ask another question but I snap the phone shut and slide it back into my pocket before he speaks.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” I say with a groan.

  I hope Jax doesn’t hate me for answering my phone on a date.

  “It’s my stupid roommate. We found a glory hole in this truck stop bathroom, and he’s been bugging me to try it out ever since. He’s a real pussy, but he finally got the balls to try it tonight.”

  Jax freezes on the spot. His eyes flare, and he looks like he’s going to explode.

  I inch closer and wrap my arms around his waist. Jax clearly hates glory holes. I can’t think of another reason for his reaction.

  “It was a long time ago. I only did it a few times, and always with the same guy — he’s the only guy I’ve been with in my life. But you don’t have to worry. He abandoned me, and I haven’t seen him in 2 months.”

  Jax is beet-red. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.

  His eyes flutter around the bar, and he’s about to say something when, suddenly, his phone rings. “Yeah?”

  I freeze. Something weird is going on, but I can’t put my finger on what.

  “Okay, Jonah.”

  I furrow my brow. Who’s Jonah?

  Jax nods. “Okay. Fine. I’ll head out tonight.”

  In one quick motion, Jax slides his phone into his pocket and turns to face me. “That was my boss. I need to head out.”

  His words are like a fucking knife to the heart. “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jax says. He has a horrified look on his face, but I don’t know if it’s from the glory hole conversation or having to leave.

  Jax leads me off the dance floor and grabs his things from the table. “I wanted to take you home tonight, but that’s not going to happen. I have to get to Michigan by three AM, or I’m going to lose my job.”

  This feels so wrong. Obviously, I know his boss called him — I heard the phone ring — but I can’t help feel like I caused this sudden rupture.

  It feels like my fault, even though I don’t know what I did

  It hurts. It fucking stings.

  Jax leads me to the door and kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you the next time I’m in Bear Springs.”

  I nod. But inside, I’m shaking. “Jax,” I mutter, biting my lip. “Did I do something wrong? Please tell me. I can’t take it if you leave and I think I offended you somehow.”

  But Jax doesn’t hear my question. He’s already out of Tilly’s and rushing to close his tab at Sweet Dreamin’.

  I head back into Tilly’s with my head spinning in the worst way possible. I slide into my booth and finish the two half-depleted vodka-cranberries.

  What. The. Fuck.

  This started off as the best night of my life, but now I’m more depressed than ever.

  12

  Jax

  I’m driving.

  It’s morning, and sunlight scorches the empty highway.

  My vision is blurry, and my mind is spinning like a goddamn tornado.

  I grip the steering wheel, centering myself to get this damn freight of kid’s toys delivered on time, but it’s fucking hard.

  I feel like I’m going to crash or swerve into a ditch, and that’s that.

  I can’t wrap my mind around it. Hours later, the fact that Logan is the mystery guy from the Truck n’ Munch still will not compute in my mind.

  I have millions of questions I couldn’t ask if I wanted to, because asking these questions entails booking in back to Bear Springs, heading into Betty’s, and asking Logan everything on my mind.

  And I can’t do that. No fucking way.

  Because if I make a U-turn on this highway and head back to Bear Springs, I’ll never get this load delivered. I'll never want to leave.

  “Fuck.” My voice is strained, guttural.

  Reaching into the divider, I grab my gas station hazelnut coffee and take a sip to clear my mind.

  It works as well as you’d expect, which is to say not at all.

  But it gives me a jittery caffeine boost, and helps me think through the millions of questions I’ll never know the answer to.

  There’s so much I need to know. Like for instance: Why was he at the Truck n’ Munch last November, and why did he use the glory hole if he’d never been with a man in his life?

  For Christ’s sake, Logan admitted he was essentially a virgin — save for the “handful” of times he went to the truck stop.

  He said he’d only been with the Truck n’ Munch guy i.e. me.

  You don’t stick your cock in a glory hole unless you’re experienced or know what you want, or at least that’s what I thought.

  While it’s possible I was wrong, Logan’s words made me think that, when I encountered him in the stalls last November, he was getting his perfect cock sucked for the first time.

  And Logan hasn’t been with another man besides me.

  At least, that’s what he said, unless he lied to me last night when he said he’s only been with one man, though I could care less if he’s been with other guys.

  Is it possible Logan was talking about someone entirely different than me?

  Maybe, except that Logan mentioned “knocking three times.”

  Logan did that with me. If he’d onl
y been with one man at the truck stop, he was talking about me.

  Jesus. I still can’t fucking process it.

  Logan is the young mystery man from the Truck n’ Munch. Innocent, geeky, quirky Logan. We’re sexually compatible, which is the reason I ran away.

  I exhale slowly, letting my breath fog the windshield.

  I check the GPS, and I’m relieved to see I’m getting close to the warehouse.

  I should arrive in three hours, if there’s not a duck crossing or some other animal bullshit to slow me down.

  Actually, even if there is a duck crossing, I can’t afford to let it slow me down.

  After my rig broke down in Bear Springs, corporate has been hounding Jonah about firing my ass.

  Apparently, I’m a liability, even though I’m the best fucking driver they’ve ever had.

  But if I keep getting distracted — or if my rig breaks down again — they could sack me.

  Fuck. “If that’s true,” I grumble, putting the rig on autopilot. “Maybe this is the best thing that could happen. Without Logan or the not-so-mystery guy from the truck stop, you can focus on work full-time.”

  Yeah, right. I don’t see that happening. Especially with these unanswered questions.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m gearing up to take the exit to the warehouse where I’m dropping my load, when visions of Logan from last night bubble up in my vision and nearly send me collapsing in a heap of regret and emotion.

  Logan, sweet Logan. My beautiful waiter, who brings me extra bacon, and even paints pictures of bacon for me, so I can take him with me on the road.

  The bacon picture is in my luggage; I haven’t had the heart to put it in my rig yet.

  Logan, with plump red lips that taste like cranberries, and skin so fucking soft you can mark it with your lips.

  My sweet little Logan, with a cock as thick as my fucking forearm, and a mouth that blows my mind.

  My throat constricts, and something metallic seeps into my mouth.

  I try to stop my train of thoughts, but it’s too late, and I have no choice but to admit it to myself and get it out.

  “We’re sexually compatible, like Michael and I. It’s too perfect. If you stay, Logan will break your heart.”