THE TROUBLE WITH TREVOR
OFF LIMITS
Book 1
by Cin Forrester
Everything he wants, nothing he can have
Like most other guys his age, Trevor Nash just wants to escape his small town, go to college and get laid. It’s not his fault his parents are freaked out because his older brother went to college and binge drank himself to death. Trevor’s not going to do that, but they won’t him go unless he stays with his godfather, Marine vet Grady McKinnon.
Grady’s come to appreciate a quiet life in Boston since an IED tore off his foot and forced his discharge, but he owes his oldest friend a lot. He agrees to the babysitting, provided Trevor sticks to a few basic rules.
It’s been five years since Trevor’s seen Grady, a long time in a teen’s life. Now Trevor is stunned to find out his muscled temporary guardian is a walking wet dream. Trevor has a new plan: get Grady’s attention, no matter how many rules he has to break to do it.
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Cin Forrester
Edited by Sasha Knight www.sashaknighteditor.com
Cover art: Reese Dante www.reesedante.com
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
THE TROUBLE WITH TREVOR
Copyright
Disclaimer
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Coming soon
About the Author
A sneak peek at The Problem with Grady
Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences. No non-consensual or illegal sexual contact is portrayed in this work of fiction. The author does not condone any of the discipline practices portrayed here in. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For Phoenix
Here’s to our spectacularly entertaining DID
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my awesome critique group, BFS, who keeps up with me no matter what path my career takes. Thank you to Erin, always. Thank you to Sheryl for a very early beta.
Thank you to all the readers who signed up for this new experiment as Cin. I hope you have as much fun as I’m having.
Chapter 1
Grady
HE’S not Trevor, but I fuck him anyway.
It was the hair that made me stop at his profile on Grindr, thick and dark, long and uneven around his face.
He meets me at his apartment door in jeans that are open at the fly. A few seconds later, he's on his knees, hot breath on my dick as I dig my fingers into that thick hair. It's not soft, like Trevor's, it's coarse, but it works as my grip drags him forward. Works to hold him there as I force my cock into his throat. He swallows around me, then lets me fuck his face, hands on my thighs to steady himself. He's just as dick hungry as his profile promised.
His tongue cradles me, lips firm over his teeth, but it's the texture I'm after, the squeezing wet pressure from his palate and throat on my dick. My balls tighten, the load already sparking in them. I pull him off, and he licks his mouth as he settles back on his heels. Puffy lips under the shaggy hair, and I think of how pale Trevor's skin is, how dark his lips would be if they were swollen and bruised from my cock.
"Wanna fuck?" he asks.
"It's why I'm here."
He leads the way through a tiny kitchen to a room with a double mattress on the floor and sheds his briefs before sitting on the edge of his makeshift bed.
Damn. I wish he had a regular bedframe, something to bend him over so I can stay on my feet.
Legs spread in front of him, he grabs lube and reaches under his balls to finger himself. "I'm on the prep." He looks up at me and grins. "You can do me bare."
Hell yeah. I have to grab the base of my dick to ease off the edge before I can slide the condom back in my pocket. A bare ass, sweeter than his mouth. If he's hot enough, tight enough, maybe I'll forget this isn't who I want to be jamming my cock into. Forget that I want to fuck over my oldest friend and bury myself balls-deep in his son's ass.
He rocks on his fingers, watching me, still in my jeans and boots with my dick out.
I don't like them to see my foot. Don't need their sympathy, their curiosity or even their thanks for my service. But it's gonna be hard to manage with his bed on the floor. I scan the room. There's a pressboard desk with his computer on it in the corner.
"C'mere." I crook a finger at him.
His fuck-me pout vanishes. "I don't kiss."
And I don't give a shit. I jerk my head at the desk. "Over there."
He nods and rolls to his feet, bringing the pump-top bottle of lube with him. He moves the computer to his mattress and settles his ass on top of the layered pressboard. "Easier on your leg? Saw the limp."
"Don't worry about it."
He shrugs. I use his hips to pull him to the edge. "Turn and bend over it."
There's an argument forming on his face even as his socked feet hit the floor. His profile said he was looking for a pounding from Tops, fit Daddys, straight-acting men. That's what he's getting in me.
I turn him at his shoulder and press him facedown on the desk. He flinches with the full contact of the winter-cooled surface on his chest, but the argument never happens. With my right knee, I push his legs apart. His ass is small but curved. The face under that hair had been too weathered to be younger than thirty, and his eyes are dark, close set. But with him like this, just narrow hips, vulnerable bony spine and shaggy hair, I can think it's Trevor. Think it's his ass I'm gonna drill. His thighs my balls will smack when I'm deep inside.
I move my jeans down to my thighs and use a palm full of lube on my cock. It's a nice glide, but if my hand was enough to fight the need to drag Trevor off to my bed, I wouldn't be here.
I grab the guy's ass cheeks and pull him open. His hole looks ready, dark and shiny with lube, but I still test it with a jab of my thumb.
He gasps. "I'm good."
I hope he's not a talker. I line up and push forward. His ass swallows the tip, no resistance as I sink all the way down. Heat, slick moving heat, soft around me, then he tightens up with a groan.
Yes. He milks me with his muscles, and I run a hand around his waist to lift him, change the angle so I can get deeper, shifting side to side.
A pulse around me, then his cheeks push up into my groin and we're good to go. To fuck.
I feel sorry for any neighbors because I'm going to pound him through the wall. My balls have a lot of Trevor frustration to unload.
I rock my hips back and then slam forward, going hard and fast from the first, and he loves it, arching his back and slapping into me as he meets the thrusts.
Arm around his hips, I ride him, drowning in the sensation, the sweat-sex smell, the noise of our flesh, thud of the table, groans from down in our bellies. I slide my other hand up his back to his hair, that hair, tangling my fingers in it. I yank. His head twists up on his neck, enough to show me a s
lack, panting mouth.
No, he's not Trevor, but my dick doesn't care. I fuck as hard as I can, turning his moans into whines.
His arms are spread wide, grip white-knuckled on the edges of the desk, so I give him my lube-slick hand to fuck. The whines get sharper, his ass tightening and loosening around me, massaging my cock with every thrust.
He's a good fuck, silent, sure of what he likes, and he likes to get pounded. Our bodies sweat together, drive to the same destination together, but we're alone in it together, both of us reaching for that personal best against the ideal in our heads.
I always get what I want. Even if he tries holding himself back. He's going to come first.
I let go of his hair, glide my hand down his spine and press at the base while my other hand strokes his dick. I pull all the way out and punch my hips forward, shifting the angle. And again. Again. I pinch his cheeks closed, making it tighter for both of us, straining for the leverage to drive in and down. He starts to lose his rhythm, stuttering, shaking under me. One desperate Oh fuck and he's coming, a warm fountain over my hand, shivering pulses on my dick.
I fuck him all the way through it, and when he knocks my hand away from his cock, I hold on to his hips with both hands, picture Trevor's wide blue eyes, teeth sinking into that pouting lower lip, and let go. My dick goes off in this stranger's ass, coats his guts with thick jets of come until more than my balls are drained. My whole body sags over him. My mouth is dry, sour from panting, my lips chapped.
I step back, sliding free, and grab a fast food napkin from the desk to wipe up. He pushes up on his hands, head hanging down between his shoulders.
"You good?" I ask, because I may be a filthy bastard who wants to fuck—to own—the ass of the seventeen-year-old whose father is trusting me to keep him safe, but I'm not a complete asshole.
"Hell, yeah." He straightens and blows out a long exhale. "If you want a repeat—"
"Sure." My answer is fast enough to cut him off. But I won't call him. Won’t be here again. No matter how many times yesterday plays in my mind.
Chapter 2
One week earlier
Trevor
“TREVOR”
Grady's voice rumbles like an avalanche in the hall and up the stairs.
I barely have time to stick my head out of my room to hear what he wants when he follows up with, "Kitchen. Now."
If he'd sent me a text like a normal person instead of shaking the boards on the stairs, it wouldn't have sounded so abrupt. Or so ominous.
But he snaps out the order like I was in his Marine platoon. I save the assignment I've been working on and dutifully trot downstairs to see what Sergeant Godfather wants.
I slide into the kitchen on my socked feet to find him leaning against the counter in front of the coffee machine. He folds his arms across his chest, making his biceps look like monoliths instead of the boulders I usually think of them as. The material of his shirt stretches with the movement, and I wonder if he's ever torn his clothes just from flexing.
Then I swallow hard and try not to think of him like that.
He's a friend of my dad's, but he's not all that old. I saw him last at Jasper's funeral five years ago, when I was twelve and anyone over twenty looked ancient to me. When he picked me up at Logan two weeks ago, I practically had to wipe drool off my chin. Wide shoulders, tapered waist and jeans faded and shaped to his package. I was so busy checking him out, I didn't notice him limping until we were almost at the baggage claim. When he saw my stare, he said, "My foot got blown off in Afghanistan." He hasn't said anything else about it, and it feels too awkward to ask. That's only one of the things I wonder about Grady.
Most of the time I'm wondering if he sees me staring at him and plans to tell my dad that I'm not only gay but perving on my godfather.
In the kitchen right now though, he's the one staring at me. "Want some coffee?"
I feel my face scrunch up. "You called me down here to ask that?"
He shakes his head, the motion as clipped as his light brown hair. Pointing at the kitchen table, he says, "Have a seat."
I drop into a chair, my stomach echoing the drop all the way to my toes. Fuck. Is he sending me home already? Is it because I'm creeping him out? I can do better. I just won't look at him.
"Coffee?" he offers, holding up the glass pitcher from the machine.
"Uh, yeah." My head bobs, my throat convulsing on another nervous swallow. "I mean, thank you. I can get it."
Before I can stand to help, he waves me off. He fills two mugs he slides onto the table then stomps back over to the fridge to get me milk.
So I'm a pussy, but I can't drink it black the way he does. He makes it strong as acid.
Grady sits and pushes the milk and a spoon toward me. I cup both hands around the ceramic. Grady keeps the house cool for January in Boston, and I've been typing for two hours. The stretch on my nerves over why I've been summoned isn't helping my circulation.
I really don't want to get sent home to Ohio.
The heat helps my hands, but it can't dissolve the icy weight in my stomach. Please don't let this be because he caught me staring at his package. He's serious about the Catholic stuff, takes being my godfather way too seriously, hauling me to mass and offering to give me a ride to confession. Maybe figuring out I'm queer is too much for him to handle.
I give the mug a squeeze and then reach for the sugar bowl to have something to do. He watches me from those light brown eyes as I scoop four spoonfuls into my coffee.
"Don't know where you put all that." He shakes his head.
I look down at my chest. Yeah, I'm kind of skinny, and my first week here of running to classes hasn't given me much time to eat. I keep having to hitch up my jeans.
I stir in my sugar, then some milk. He's silent while I'm banging the spoon off the chiming porcelain. Maybe this is some torture technique from the Marines. I want to confess to everything. Anything. I'm so nervous I can't take a sip because I might puke. I put the spoon down on the table and stare at the film created by the fat molecules in the milk.
What if he's not just disgusted by me being queer, but he's the kind of guy who has got to prove it by punching any gay guy who looks at him? Bad enough to go back to Ohio, but I wanted to go with all my teeth.
Right, Trevor. That's why he poured you a cup of coffee and sat at the table with you.
"So." Grady leans back in his chair. "I want to get a couple things straight."
I bite my lip to control an extremely inappropriate giggle.
He goes on, "I made a promise to your father to keep you safe."
Yeah. I knew all about that.
See, most parents would be proud and happy that their son got early admission into fucking Harvard University, thank you, with enough in scholarships to knock tuition down to something close to a state school. Not Frank and Penny Nash. Well, maybe they were proud. They'd told me good job, but that I wouldn't be going.
My older brother had gone to college five years ago and died of alcohol poisoning. I got that they were freaked out. But that wasn't me. That was Jasper. I missed him. I missed him all the fucking time. I wasn't ever going to get to show him any of the cool stuff I'd done since. I wasn't ever going to hear him pick on me or have him wrestle me to the ground and sit on me. But Jasper had died, and now I had to pay for it?
Then my dad remembered that my godfather Grady had moved to Boston after he got discharged from the Marines. A million phone calls and emails later and I was allowed to go away to school, provided I stayed at the Grady McKinnon Military School. Sir, yes, sir.
Sarcasm isn't going to keep me from going back to Ohio, so I agree that I did know he'd made a promise.
"Right.” Grady’s back running the show. “Which means I need you to follow some rules."
At first I'm so relieved that I don't need a plane ticket home I miss what he says after rules. I tune back in for "...print me a copy of your schedule, and if you're not in class or studying on campus, y
ou need to let me know. And I expect you home by ten every night unless you've got a good reason to be later."
Shit. I'd only been kidding about the McKinnon Military School. What now? Was he going to start giving Cadet Nash demerits?
I swallow and stare down at my coffee. My brain conjures up a porno I've watched online. More than a few times. My dick pulses, and heat flares in my cheeks, both sets. It had been set at a military school, and the discipline the "boys" received made me hard as a rock. Paddle swats from the senior cadet before he gave their asses another kind of attention. My favorite scene was where this one guy is getting paddled while he's sucking another cadet's dick. Oh fuck.
Focus, Trevor. I have to shift in the chair to make room for my rod, and I leave a damp patch on my briefs.
"Is that a problem?" Grady asks, making me realize he's been waiting for me to speak.
My trip to Pornoland has left me with dry mouth to go along with my burning cheeks, so I try to fix that with a sip of scalding coffee. "Uh." The squirm in my balls reminds me that Grady's hard muscles make the Top in that video look like some punk from back at Valleyview High. Ten p.m. curfew. Right.
"I think I'll be really busy with schoolwork so, um, no. I don't think it will be a problem."
Grady gives me a stare over the top of his mug, and guilt works to slow the rush of blood to my cock. He can't know he's starring in the porno running through my brain. And I just agreed to his stupid curfew, didn't I?
Grady clunks his mug down. "No drinking. At all. You're underage."
Duh. That's what this is all about, Jasper binge drinking himself to death. But what the hell did my dad tell Grady about me? I don't get into trouble. I'm not the one who broke rules. I never mouth off to teachers, and I'd never been invited to a party. Between everyone knowing about Jasper, and me being the mayor's son, I might as well have walked around Jackson, Ohio with narc tattooed on my forehead.
The Trouble with Trevor (Off Limits Book 1) Page 1