Chapter 20

Damian sat on a mound of high grass, next to the truck. Two grasshoppers played near his right knee. He looked up from his pad and the grasshoppers. Ridge flexed his back muscles as he tightened lug nuts on the spare tire. His shoulders gleamed in the sun. Damian thought he looked like a Greek god, but knew otherwise since Ridge’s family name originated somewhere in Germany. No matter if Ridge was Greek, German, or Irish, he looked good in the sun, edible. Sweat dripped down his spine and into the rim of his jeans at the nape of his back. Muscles flexed, and he grunted once, turning Damian on. And no one could have stopped Damian from moving up to his lover’s splay of wide back and licking Ridge’s perspiration away, if Damian wanted to, but he didn’t.