Chapter 17

As they walked Milo bobbed up and down, rubbing against Grange with every step. He could feel his gait, the movement of his hips, and he ached to bury his face in his neck. Milo swallowed. He wanted to lick his way from the man’s cravat to his ear and then bite. As they walked in the sun a bead of perspiration ran down the Grange’s temple and Milo ached to taste it. He held his breath when the man paused, hefted him, and then carried on.

When they got to the lake, he hesitated. “Can you stand and lean on me while I put the rug down?” Milo nodded. He couldn’t bear his weight, but he could stand a little if he had support. The man eased his useless legs down gently until he stood. He never got to stand. As his feet touched the ground, and he stood up supported by Grange, he realised that he came up just past man’s shoulder. He’d never really measured his adult self against another.

“Wait.” The word came out as a bark, and the man froze. “Hold me so I can stand longer.”