20. Cole

Blaise is still storming through the woods an hour later while I watch him, following, stalking, keeping my eyes on his shadowy form through my mask.

I hear the snap of branches, the muttered words under his breath, and my heart races the closer I get. If he keeps going forward, he’ll reach the river. Our town isn’t for miles – Jackson lives the farthest away of my friends. Ex friend. I might kill him if I see him again.

My knuckles burn, but I ignore them as I pull my hood up to hide my hair, inhaling the smoke as I slip my mask up to take a drag.

Nothing calms me.

Nothing but the thought of hurting him. Driving my fist into his face like I did with Jackson won’t do shit for my temper, yelling at him will make me madder, so this is my next best option.

I’m silent on my feet, careful not to give myself away. Keeping the hoodie and mask in the trunk was a good idea. As soon as he slammed the car door and started walking, then slid into the trees, I let my rage win and I fell into my own little ruse of being the unidentified fucker who can’t keep his hands off Blaise.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, the feeling of being so fucking twisted and careless and injected with motivation pushing me forward, making sure I don’t lose him.

The outline of him stops, a slow glance over his shoulder in my direction, making me slink behind a thick tree.

“I know you’re there,” he calls out. “I’m not in the fucking mood for your shit.”

He knows it’s me or…?

My burner buzzes in my pocket, the faint glow giving my position away. I pull it out, seeing a message on the screen.

Make me forget about him, it reads, and I gulp down the lump in my throat, my hand shaking as I grit my teeth and turn off my screen.

So he wants to play dirty. Go from me to Jackson to this version of myself he doesn’t know.

My eyes close as I inhale deeply.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I pick up a thick branch, moving from behind the tree to see him turning and running.

“Fuck,” I blurt and shoot after him, gripping the branch in my hand and dodging smaller branches, nearly tripping over a fallen trunk.

I can hear him running.

I can hear him breathing heavily.

My cock is too fucking responsive to the chase. It’s aching and hard and my balls need to be emptied, preferably down his throat like that first time.

Blaise goes left, jumping over an abandoned, burned-out car, letting out a chain of curse words as he hits the forest floor and pushes himself back to his feet.

I smirk to myself as I slow down, my lungs burning as my chest rises and falls, watching him hopping along and struggling to walk on his twisted ankle.

“Pathetic,” I say under my breath.

“Who the fuck are you?” he says through gritted teeth, going onto his back and shuffling away from me, as if that’ll stop me.

I tilt my head, lifting the branch and slamming it down on his sore ankle, making him shout out a “fuck” and grab at his foot.

I want to snap his neck. I want to drain every drop of his blood and blind him. To make him feel an ounce of betrayal I feel that he not only went to one of my best friends, but also decided it would be a good idea to have me, the masked guy with no name, chase him.

He’s a fucking slut, and I mean nothing to him.

The anger drives me to swing the branch, grazing his cheek and slicing the skin. But before he can fight back, or even blurt some sort of retort, or register the injury, I rush for him, dropping a knee on his chest and forcing his head into the dirt by the throat.

I rob him of breath, cutting off his airways and making sure his lungs feel more suffocated than I’ve felt my entire life. I want it to hurt, to see him begging with his eyes.

With my free hand, I slide the black material from my pocket, ripped from my shirt, and shove him into the dirt more.

“You gonna fight me?” I mutter, dangling the material in front of him. Even with only the moon lighting up inside the woods, I can see the black of his pupils taking over the green, and my cock gets even harder as he tries to push me off.

I dig my thumb into his neck, and he lets out a painful, barely-there hiss before I yank him up by the throat. He doesn’t do shit when I blindfold him with the material, or when I push him back down and slap his cheek hard enough to redden the skin.

Not needing to wait, I rip open his jeans and force my hand under his waistband, groaning under my breath when I feel the hard muscle waiting for me. I fist his cock, my pulse thrashing in my neck when he arches his back ever-so slightly. He wants the release, but hates that he does.

For someone who had his fun not hours ago, he’s silently begging for my touch, especially when I free his cock completely and wrap my fingers around it, stroking him while he stays in the mud, his lips parting on little breaths.

Blaise whimpers when I stop touching him and undo the lace of one of my sneakers. I pull one free and move to his side, grabbing his wrists to tie them together.

He’d be able to easily get out of this and fight me off, or at least pull off his blindfold, but I know he won’t.

Sliding off my mask, my hoodie follows, and I drop them both on the ground beside him. I yank his pants off completely, then his briefs, and toss them aside, watching his cock pointing to the canopy of the trees, thick and long and fucking…

My mouth waters to taste the precum on the tip.

I’ve never put a dick in my mouth before, but I want to try it. I want to make Blaise feel good, yet hate himself for it. To devour each inch and feel my own dick beg for some sort of sensation.

I pull out my cigarettes and light one. “Do you smoke?” I say under my breath, keeping it deep and unidentifiable.

His chest heaves, not gracing me with a reply. That fucks me off more. I inhale deeply and hold the smoke in as I study him, half naked in the dirt, blindfolded and his wrists bound.

My dick loves the sight. I can’t help but take it in my hand, freeing my cock and pumping the length of it in my palm. Fuck. It feels good. Watching him tremble with anticipation, his dick thickening, the cold air licking his dirty skin.

I go to him, stroking myself slowly with one hand and feeding my nicotine addiction with the other. I kneel between his legs, lick my lips, and observe him stiffening as I press the head of my cock against his, mixing our precum.

Absently, he moves his hips upwards, and my tip rubs the underside of his cock, which makes us both stop breathing. He does it again and again, until I start moving with him while I fill my lungs with toxic fumes and blow it at him in a cloud of smoke.

He hisses as I press the burning orange ember to his hip to stub it out and throw my cigarette into the roots of the forest floor. The pain doesn’t put him off. Blaise’s precum gathers at the tip again, and he flinches as I swipe it with my thumb.

Bringing the sticky substance to my face, I fight my anxiety of having one of my firsts by tasting it, slipping my thumb into my mouth and closing my lips, unable to stop the deep groan and the way my eyes close as if I’ve just tasted the best fucking meal of my life.

“Hmm.” I lick at my lips, staring at his mouth, the parted lips and the anticipation for more. I lower my voice. “I think you taste good, but I need more than a teaser.”

My nerves pick up when I fist his cock roughly, jerking him a few times, and push through the uneasiness as I take him into my mouth.

The explosion of different senses has me pausing around his thickness. I can taste him. Really taste him, as I swirl my tongue around his head, lapping up more of his precum as I work my hand on his length.

“Fuck,” he moans, pushing his hips, forcing another inch into my mouth.

It’s foreign, the feeling of doing this instead of being on the receiving end. I had no idea it would make me so painfully hard; I need to grab my own dick as I suck my stepbrother.

He keeps working his hips up, trying to take control even though he’s beneath me, so I let go of his length and force my head down more, taking him to the back of my throat and making myself gag. But I do it again and again and again, until he’s gasping for air and I’m choking on a dick for the first time in my life.

I can taste him leaking, and I swallow around his head and suck and lick and take more into my throat.

“Cole,” he moans, and I pause.

I stop everything.

I don’t even breathe, thinking I’m caught.

He chokes out another word, breathing heavily. “Let me… Fuck. Let me call you Cole.”

My dick aches as I stare up at him, his little sounds turning me on more.

The idea hits me, and I pull my mouth away and turn around, lying on my side as I tip him on his, so my cock is at his face and his at mine.

“Open,” I order, as I perch on my elbow. Slapping my swollen crown against his cheek, I press it against his mouth. His lips part, and the warmth envelops my dick as he takes me in.

My eyes roll as he starts sucking slowly, licking at what he can until I lie down on my side and copy him. He whimpers around my dick as I suck on his.

Me and Blaise. On the forest floor and sucking each other’s dicks. I kind of want his dad to find us, for him to see me fucking his son’s throat. It’ll teach him a lesson not to mess with me anymore, because I’d just fuck his spawn over and over.

But then again, if he did find us right now, sucking and licking and snapping our hips to make us both gag and choke, he’d know who I was and tell Blaise. I like being unknown right now. I can do what I want to Blaise and not worry about any consequences. I can comfortably grab at his ass cheeks and take him deep into my throat without worrying about my sexuality being questioned, or the fact I’m fully into my little stepbrother.

The thickness of him kind of robs me of air, needing to breathe through my nose, but that’s okay. I can handle it.

My fingers dig into his ass, and my middle one accidentally pushes just beside his back hole. Blaise tenses all over and chokes around my dick that’s buried to the hilt.

Fuck, I want to feel him do that again, so I tease around the rim, using the wetness of my saliva pouring from the corners of my mouth to soak my finger tip and keep curling around his hole.

He’s moaning so loudly against my dick, and I’m close.

I pop his length out my mouth, filling my lungs as I watch my middle finger go around and around, his ass puckering and dying for attention. He flinches as I gather spit in my mouth and aim for his hole, making him moan again, even louder, and fuck me, I nearly come with the way his throat tightens.

Blaise stops sucking as I press the tip of my finger through the tight hole of his ass, his cock pulsing beside my face, dying for another mouth to fill.

For being with Jackson not long ago, he’s tight. Really fucking tight. Unless he was the topper?

The thought pisses me off, and I shove my finger to the first knuckle and smirk at the way his muscles all bunch and his groan echoes around us.

I keep my finger there, pulsing it in bit by bit, gentle, slow thrusts as I take his cock back into my mouth and start sucking him off again.

I freeze as he grabs my hip. He must’ve gotten himself out of the shoelace, but instead of fighting me off, he’s tugging my pants fully down to my thighs and matching the way I suck his dick.

We fall into a rhythm while I fuck his throat and finger his ass. He chokes, I choke. He gags, I gag. He thrusts, I thrust.

I nearly blow my load on his tongue as he copies me, not giving me any time to adjust as he thrusts a finger into my ass as he takes me deep into his throat.

I mutter a “fuck” against his dick and silently beg him to push his finger in more, to add another, to suck me harder. So I do it all to him. I pummel his ass with my middle finger, fast and hard, filling the woods with gasps and moans and curses until he tenses all over and explodes into my mouth without any warning.

I drink every drop like I’m a man possessed while he scrapes his teeth on my dick and keeps releasing. It’s like coming makes him hornier, and he ravishes my dick, his saliva dripping onto my ass.

His dick pulses until it’s spent, and I release it from my mouth and pull my finger free, gritting my teeth with how good his mouth feels. His tongue slides against each inch as he bobs his head.

Blaise pops my cock out of his mouth and replaces his finger with his tongue and…fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His tongue slides around my rim and punches the tip into the tight hole, spreading my cheeks to open me for his mouth. He licks at me, forcing his tongue in more, and eats my ass while he adjusts our position. He drags me to my knees and licks and sucks at my ass from behind, until his hands find their way in front, one fisting my dick and the other grabbing my balls and massaging them.

I’m supposed to be the one in charge right now – he should be submitting to me. And now I’m on all fours with someone I claim to hate, who’s devouring my ass while making me feel so many different things at once.

“Fuck, Blaise,” I groan. “Keep going.”

He listens, stroking me faster, massaging my balls while tongue-fucking me until I drop my head into the dirt and give in to my temptations. I let the orgasm wrap around my balls and shoot up my spine, to blur my vision and tighten my ass while my muscles tense all over, and I come like I’ve never released before.

Blaise cups the head of my dick while I pulse each drop out, burying my forehead into the branches beneath me until I’m completely spent.

Then his tongue vanishes, his touch too, and I turn and push him away, so he falls on his back. I go to hit him, because what else am I supposed to do? But I stop with my fist in the air as Blaise brings his cupped hand to his mouth and rubs it over his mouth, my cum dripping from his lips. “Mmmm,” he hums.

I gulp, my mouth growing dry again as I watch him taste me. I love the sight, and it only pushes me to go to him again. Grabbing his jaw, I line our softening cocks together, thrusting against him even though we’re far from getting hard again.

My mouth falls on his before I can even think about it, forcing my tongue into his mouth. Instead of refusing, Blaise lets me take his bottom lips between my teeth and rip the skin. He moves his hips up to rub our cocks together as I suck on his tongue, needing more.

I need so much more that I can’t have.

He kisses me back, and it turns into a frenzy of tongues and lips and rubbing dicks. His hand flies up to fist the hair at the back of my head, devouring each other like he knows who I am.

He doesn’t.

The thought makes me freeze.

Blaise isn’t kissing me. He’s kissing someone else.

I’m not Cole.

I sink my teeth into his lip one final time, making sure it hurts enough to make him pull away and wipe blood from his mouth.

Getting off him, I pull up my pants and grab the hoodie and mask, quickly sliding them on while Blaise lies there, panting, confused, hard again.

I shake my head at myself and pull out another cigarette, lifting the tree branch I dropped beside him. Blaise would be able to hold up against me in a fist fight. He’s not a pussy. So the only way to end this is to swing the branch at his head and knock him out.

And I leave him in the woods for the second time, hating myself for not being able to be me.

As soon asI got that fucking message from Jackson, I ditched my mom’s little speech about my anger and barged my way out the front door. I don’t even remember driving to his place, or smashing my fist into his face, but fuck, I’m still mad.

I stare at the split skin on my knuckles, flexing my fingers to make the slices open more and feel the pain of the tearing.

There’s mud under my nails, and on my knees and legs. I haven’t showered yet since I got home. I’m lost in my own head again.

I slide out from under my bed and crack my neck side to side.

Blaise still isn’t home. I wish I had stayed and confessed, then yelled at him some more for messing me around, but there’s no point.

Because he isn’t mine. Plus, I’m not attracted to him.

I laugh bitterly at myself and my denial. It’s obvious now that I’m into Blaise, the taste of him on my tongue and the way I wanted more tonight is more than enough evidence. I’ve never had an orgasm like that. Not with Allie or anyone else I fucked around with.

I wanted more. I still do. But I’m just lost in my head about what this can all mean. It could fuck up my mom’s life. It would be my fault again.

Even fucking Jackson knows, and he used it against me by…

My back hits the mattress as I drop and press my palms into my face. “Fuck,” I blurt. “Fuck me.”

My phone buzzes, and it takes me an entire two seconds to jump for it, seeing it’s from an annoying existence.

Mia: Allie knows.

I want to reply and ask if she means Allie knows I sixty-nined her ex an hour ago, but her second message comes through.

Mia: I had to tell her. She was bound to find out eventually what was going on between us.

“What is it with this psycho?” I ask myself, deleting her message and awaiting the storm to blast through the front door. No doubt she’ll make my life a living hell if she truly thinks I’d go there with Mia.

I mean, I kind of did? Not because I wanted her, but because it was the closest I could get to Blaise without any confused back and forth shit.

My phone rings, and I frown when I see it’s an unknown number.

“Hello?”

There’s a hiccup, and then a deep voice booms through the line. “Son!” my dad sings. “My boy! I have been trying to reach you for months!”

My breathing halts. I can feel his hands on me without needing to think about my past. Skin crawling, my stomach turns inside out just as my door opens. The burning in my leg hits me, and I feel the urge to hold my side.

Blaise limps in with his sore ankle, covered in mud, his eyes red, the gash on his cheek deeper than I thought. He stops in the middle of my room.

“What do you want, Dad?” I ask, and Blaise goes deathly pale.

“That asshole brother of yours has been hanging up on me for months.” He throws something, and it smashes on the other side of the line. “He made me mad, son. Real fucking mad. You know what happens when I’m mad.”

I clench my teeth together. “I didn’t know,” I say, because as much as I like to think of myself as a hard-ass, this fucker who is half my biology is the scariest man on the planet in my eyes.

He can destroy my entire life.

He can hurt me.

He’ll take Mom and hurt her.

“There’s a restraining order,” I tell him. “You can’t do anything.”

Blaise doesn’t move from his spot, watching me like a hawk, seeing the anger building behind my eyes. If he had just told me my dad had been calling, I could have figured something out. He’s only pissed him off and potentially made this way harder for everyone involved. He’ll stop at nothing.

“It’s too late for any of that. Restraining order or not, you took your mother from me, and he tried to take you away from me too,” he slurs, drunk off his ass. “I’m going to take you away from them all.”