This is a longer chapter that brings everything together--the tension, the buildup, and the unspoken desire that's been simmering between Jason and Lamont. If you've been following their journey so far, I hope you're enjoying getting to know these characters as much as I've loved writing them.Now that Jason has finally laid his claim, we're heading deeper into the dynamic. The shift has begun, power, trust, submission, and control, and their life together will evolve from here. Expect things to intensify emotionally, physically, and psychologically. This is where the real journey begins. next chapter should be ready soon. Thanks for reading. Let's see where this goes.
Chapter Three
Jason walked the perimeter of the half-built coop like a man inspecting a battlefield. Hands-on his hips, eyes slow and calculating, a soft grunt in the back of his throat every time he noticed a crooked board or a half-buried post. He crouched, his massive body moving with the ease of someone who is used to heavy gear and long days. His thermal shirt stretched tight across his back and arms, his veins thick along his forearms as he griped the wood to test its strength.
Lamont stood nearby, hands clasped awkwardly behind his back. He was trying to look calm and cool. But his stomach was twisted up and his cheeks were already warm.
Jason was... a lot.
Tall. Built like a soldier out of a dream. And the musk rolling off him, earthy, male, just a hint of sweat, was making Lamont's knees soft. One thing Lamont loved was a musky man. Most people called it body odor or funk, but to Lamont, it was nectar. He liked it strong and raw, the kind of scent that clung to shirts stayed embedded in bedsheets and hung thick in the air long after the man had walked out of the room.
Jason's musk hit him like a drug. Lamont would breathe it in and feel his hole flutter, his mind slipping into a haze of need so thick it made his body ache.
He wanted to bury his face in every place that produced that smell, Jason's pits, his balls, his inner thighs his ass, He found himself daydreaming about what it would be like on his knees, sniffing and licking Jason's sack, worshipping the heat between his legs, cleaning his sweaty hole.
He pictured Jason holding him close, arms wrapped around him on the couch, Lamont nuzzled up under one arm, face buried deep in that thick, salty pit, breathing him in like oxygen. Getting high on his Daddy's scent.
"You've got a lot of land," Jason said, rising to full height again. His voice was deep and low. "Five acres?"
"Yeah," Lamont nodded. "Five. VA loan helped me get the place. I've only been here about five months."
Jason's green eyes scanned the tree line. "Got plans for all this?"
"I do," Lamont said, voice quiet. "Trying to build something real out here. Chickens. Maybe goats one day. Want to grow most of my food eventually."
Jason nodded slowly, then turned his gaze back to Lamont. Full force. Focused.
"You do it all yourself?"
Lamont swallowed. He could feel that stare sinking into his skin, confidence and steady. It wasn't just eye contact, it was penetrating. Like Jason could see through the bravado, down to the part of Lamont that longed to serve. To please. On his knees.
"Yeah," he said softly. "All by myself."
Jason stepped closer, boots crunching dry grass. The tension between them tightened like a pulled rope. Lamont's breath hitched. "This man is so damn hot"
"You in the service?" Jason asked, eyes dropping briefly to Lamont's chest before meeting his gaze again.
"Used to be. Army. Got out six years ago."
Jason nodded. "You live here alone?"
Lamont nodded back. "Yeah."
Jason's next question came so calm it almost didn't register.
"You dating anyone?"
Lamont's mouth opened, then closed. His heart kicked in his chest.
"No... No, I'm single."
Jason's expression didn't change. But something passed behind his eyes--something......Curious.
Lamont's gaze drifted downward, unintentionally--and froze.
Jason's dick was hard. Not a bulge. Not "kind of." Hard. Thick as a pipe running down the leg of his work jeans, stretching the denim tight around his thigh, so heavy and full it looked like it had weight to it.
Lamont's throat went dry.
I should just get on my knees, he thought, pulse hammering. Drop right here and show him what I'm made for.
But another voice, quieter and unsure, crept in.
What if he thinks I'm just some cheap slut? Some thirsty bottom throwing himself at the first big cock that shows up with a tool belt and a pulse?
He snapped his eyes back up, flustered--but Jason was already Watching him watch.
Lamont's skin burned. He turned too quickly, trying to point at a part of the frame that needed redoing, his foot caught the edge of a board.
"Shit"
He stumbled, arms flailing, but before he could hit the dirt, a strong arm caught him across the chest.
Jason.
One hand. Effortless.
Jason lifted him upright like he weighed nothing. His other hand gripped Lamont's waist just for a second. Long enough.
"Easy."
That voice again. Calm. Patient. Commanding.
Lamont's heart slammed against his ribs. His entire body tingled under Jason's touch.
He hadn't felt like this in years. Or maybe ever. No man had made him feel this small.
Jason didn't smirk or tease. He just let go, steadying Lamont, then went right back to business like nothing had happened.
"I'll take the job," he said. "Weekday evenings. Full days on the weekends. We'll knock this out fast. After that, I'll help with whatever else you've got going on around the property."
Lamont tried to speak but his mouth didn't work for a second. He blinked and nodded, breath shallow.
"That... that sounds good. Thank you."
Jason gave him one more long look. Not sexual. Not wanting. Just... present.
"You said you're single," he added. "Can I ask... Are you into women? Or..."
Lamont looked down, then back up.
"I'm gay."
Jason didn't flinch. Just nodded once, slow and certain. "Me too."
Lamont's brows lifted in surprise.
Jason continued. "Bisexual, technically. But I haven't had any luck with either. Women want too much. The gay culture feels like a fuckin' alien world. All noise. No substance."
Lamont's mouth opened slightly.
"Yeah," he said. "Exactly. I don't relate to any of it. It's like I'm... I don't know. Looking for something that doesn't exist."
Jason looked at him, but not like before.
"Maybe it does."
Silence.
Lamont looked down again, his mind running, "What does this mean?"
He could smell Jason again, and he ached to be on his knees to serve Jason.
Jason's voice was lower now, almost a growl.
"I'll be back Monday night. Be ready to work."
He turned and walked toward his truck. Lamont watched him go, cock twitching in his sweats, heart fluttering like a schoolboy.
He'd never felt this way about anyone before.
By the time the clock struck four, Lamont's kitchen was thick with the scent of seared beef, roasted sweet potatoes, and garlic butter bubbling in a cast iron pan. He moved barefoot across the wood floor, his wide back and strong arms slick with a thin sheen of sweat. The October air outside was crisp, but his house was warm, rich with spice and anticipation.
He made too much food.
This was one of the only ways he knew how to show a man he was really interested, without coming off like a desperate slut. Keep quiet. Feed him. Make his time with him feel relaxing, and easy, with no stress.
Part of him wanted to play it cool, just offer Jason something simple. But he couldn't help it. The man was coming over. And it only felt right to have food waiting for a man like Jason.
The knock came, right on time.
Lamont wiped his hands on a towel and opened the door.
