23. Blaise

Cole cuts the engine and looks out the windshield as silence falls on the car. Our parents have gone away for the weekend. Now, as he flicks his eyes in my direction and swallows, the weight of what that means for us thickens the tension in the car. I smirk, wetting my lips. I can still taste him on my tongue.

He pushes open the door and steps out into the rain. It soaks through his clothes in seconds, making the gray fabric mold to his muscles. Fuck me, he’ll be the death of me. Climbing out of the car, I jog up the driveway with my eyes on the prize. Cole enters the house, tosses his keys into the crystal bowl on the console table, and then hesitates with his back to me.

“Do you know what I love?” I ask as I close the door behind us and turn the lock to heighten the anticipation. His shoulders stiffen at the soft click, and my eyes fall down his body as I approach him from behind. “You talked a big game back there, and you grew hard as a fucking rock in my mouth when Keith walked in on us.” The floorboards creak with my next step. I can smell the rain on his skin, and fuck me, if that doesn’t do dangerous things to my heart. I’m screwed. My fingers tingle with the urge to fist his hair and pull until he hisses. “But there’s fear beneath the desire, too.” I’m close to him now. Close enough to touch. “There’s something about the hitch in your breath that makes me want to hurt you.”

He doesn’t move a muscle as I step close enough to feel his heat through his clothes. Raindrops cling to the ends of his hair, and more dot his skin. I stifle a groan when my dick jumps behind my fly. “You like the thrill, don’t you?” I ask.

“You want to hurt me?” His eyes find mine over his shoulder, and mine drop to his tempting mouth. “What’s holding you back?”

Giving in to the urge to touch his wet hair, I grab the strands and yank his head back. “I can think of better ways to hurt you.”

“Fuck—” he grunts as I shove him up against the wall, but the sound is cut off when I crush my lips to his.

This moment right here…

I bite his lip hard until the taste of his coppery blood floods my mouth, and he fists my T-shirt and hauls me close. We’re a clash of teeth and tongues and bumping noses. It’s messy, sloppy, and everything I’ve ever imagined late at night with my hand in my boxers. Now that I can kiss him any time I want behind closed doors, I’m sure as fuck going to get my fill of these enticing lips.

“Fuck, you make me feel things I’ve never felt,” I growl, lifting him away from the wall and slamming him back against it. He gives as good as he gets, and I wrench my mouth away when he sinks his teeth into my lip. “What the…” I growl, my cock straining inside my jeans. His eyes follow the blood dripping down my chin, his panting breaths coming hard and fast.

“You like to see me bleed?”

He wets his lips, and the move is so seductive that I groan. Grabbing him by the throat, I slam my mouth to his again. “Fuck me,” I whisper against his lips. “I could kiss you for-fucking-ever.” His wandering fingers slip beneath my wet T-shirt, making my abs contract. “What do you want to happen now?” I ask and kiss him deeper, slower. These fucking sweet lips. I’m in heaven. “You call the shots, big brother.”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, shoving me back, and a chuckle rips from my chest at the heated look in his eyes. Walking past me, his fine ass disappears upstairs. My lungs expand as I inhale a steadying breath. I don’t want to hurt him, but I want to hurt him. I’m a mess.

Making my way to the kitchen, I slide a knife from the wooden block and glance at the doorway. “I’m coming for you. You better run,” I call out before smiling so wide my cheeks cramp. It’s so damn exhilarating and freeing not to have to hide how crazy and out of control I feel around him.

Twirling the knife in my hand like I’m a pro, I set off to hunt him down. “I don’t think you quite understand what the hell you’ve agreed to,” I say as I ascend the carpeted stairs. My heart thuds as I reach the top and his closed bedroom door comes into view. I wonder what awaits me on the other side. Is he jacking off? Naked already? Even better, is he hiding? Is it my turn to chase him? Tossing the knife into the air, I catch it by the handle. Hell yes. Cole may not know the extent of my obsession, but I’ve chased him for months, and it’s time for me to claim my prize. Without a preamble, I stride across the hallway and drive my boot into the door.

“What the fuck—” Cole blurts as the door slams into the wall, but his words die when he drops his eyes to the knife in my hand. “Blaise?”

“Why are you not naked?” I casually close the door behind me. “I’m disappointed.”

“What’s with the knife?” he asks, notes of fear bleeding into his voice.

“You like to see me bleed.” I point the blade at him, then the bed. “Lie down.”

Swallowing, he hesitates, and I raise a brow. “I thought you said we’re doing this—you and me. Are you scared?”

Cole looks down at the knife, uncertain. My chest swells with satisfaction when he walks to the bed and crawls on. Approaching the bed, my eyes roam over his body. “You trust me.” My hungry gaze lingers on the outline of his hard cock. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” I whisper, the mattress dipping beneath my weight as I climb on. Straddling his lap, I pull my T-shirt over the back of my head before tossing it to the floor and reaching for his hands. I place one over my heart and curl the fingers of his free hand around the handle.

“What are you doing, Blaise?” he asks, his eyes growing wide.

Guiding the blade to my collarbone, I drag my tongue across my bottom lip as we drown in each other. “I will always bleed for you.”

His fingers tremble on the handle, but he makes no move to hurt me, and suddenly, I’ve never wished for anything more. When he looks up at me, his throat jumps. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Cut me.”

I expect him to fight me or to say he doesn’t want to hurt me, but instead, he looks into my eyes, speaking a thousand soundless words while dragging the knife down my chest. A sharp sting has me sucking in a breath.

“Fuck,” he breathes and pushes up on his elbows. Blood rushes to the surface, stark red against my pale skin. Dragging a thumb through a trickle of crimson, I trace his bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth. “Do you have any idea of how fucking perfect you are?” I ask, and he forces me back as he sits up and trails his tongue through the blood. His eyes find mine, his mouth and chin smeared with red. I’ve never seen him this…undone before. I almost come in my fucking pants at the need in his heated look. How can I ever deny him anything?

Still, I like to play with my prize. Grabbing his stubbly jaw, I nip at his bottom lip. “Admit that you were jealous earlier.”

A sharp sting in my abdomen has a smile pulling at my mouth. Cole is brave, digging the blade into my stomach. “One wrong move on my end, and you’ll gut me. Maybe that’s what you want?” I ask, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. “Does the thought turn you on?”

“Are you always this fucking crazy?” he snips.

Chuckling, I reach into his boxers. “Forgive me, but I’m not the one with a knife in my hand.” My fingers curl around his hard shaft, feeling it throb. “I’ll make you come if you admit that you were jealous.”

“I wasn’t fucking jealous,” he sneers, but the tremble in his voice gives him away.

“No? So you don’t mind if I hang out with Jackson again?” It’s the wrong thing to say, or the right thing, depending on how you look at it. I quite like violence, so when Cole tosses the knife aside and tackles me to the bed, my fucking toes curl. Reaching for the knife, he rests it against my throat while yanking my belt open. “Say his name one more fucking time. I dare you!”

My lips spread into a wide smile. “Oh, I like a challenge.”

He snarls, digging the knife into my throat. Blinded by fury, he frees my cock and strokes my length until I’m squirming beneath all that pent-up anger.

“I want to fuck you,” I say, wringing the sheets, my cock growing even harder in his firm grip. “Dammit, I want to fuck you so badly.”

“Yeah?” he mocks, forgetting the knife at my throat, and I wince when he cuts me. “Fuck,” he says, rearing back. “Did I hurt you?”

“Shut up.” I fist his hair and pull him to my lips. The knife falls to the floor with a loud clatter, and then it’s just us and our wildfire desire burning through our souls while we claw at each other’s clothes. Somehow, in the commotion, Cole knocks the lamp to the floor, and we break into laughter. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say, pausing with my fingers in his hair as he hovers above me.

“Can dudes be called beautiful?”

“I don’t fucking care.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You’re perfect in every fucking way…and your smile. It lights up the room. I only see you.”

Cole stares at me for a beat before silencing the words on my tongue with another heated kiss. But this one is different. The anger is gone. His touches are softer, but if anything, they hurt more. Every stroke of his calloused fingers burns like a cut of his blade, and I love it.

I love him.

Pausing, I breathe heavily. Cole’s weight on top of me, his parted lips, and the way his hair falls over his brow have my heart rate accelerating. I can’t think about anything except how badly I want to make him feel good, to make him fall apart at my touch. I roll us over until I’m on top and stroke his hair away from his forehead. His cock rests against his stomach, hard and leaking precum. “I won’t fuck you yet.”

I see the question he wants to ask as his brow furrows. “You’re not ready,” I whisper instead, knowing Cole is still wrestling with himself on a deeper level, and until he begs me to, I won’t cross that line. Holding his gaze, I kiss a line down his body, my lips grazing his contracting abs. I dip my tongue into his belly button. “Keep your eyes on me,” I say and stroke his dick in a long, slow pull. “Don’t look away.”

His throat jumps. “I won’t.”

“Good boy,” I tease, and his eyes narrow. I swirl my tongue over a bulging vein before he can complain. He sucks in a breath, and I decide there and then that it’s the best sound in the entire world. “You trusted me earlier when I barged in here with a knife. Do you trust me now, Cole?”

The question might seem crazy, but this is us, baring ourselves wholly after sparring back and forth for weeks—months, even. What I’m asking him is more profound than I could ever voice, and I know he feels it, too, when he strokes his fingers through my hair. “I trust you.”

My smile rivals his before I take him in my mouth. His cock jumps, and he pulls my hair to the point of pain. I suck him deep, bobbing in time with my thrashing heart. As I reach up to palm his balls, my phone rings in my pocket—it’s my dad’s ringtone. Maybe I should feel bad for sucking off his wife’s son, but every-fucking-thing about this moment feels right. I’m too drunk on Cole’s moans and groans to even contemplate how this could tear our family apart. I reach up and drag my fingers over his abs, feeling the muscles shift and bunch beneath my touch. He shivers and throws his head back. I love the veins in his elongating neck and how he traps his lip between his teeth. “Blaise…Jesus…” he groans.

I release him with a pop. “Jesus? No, he can’t make you feel this way.” Releasing his balls, I spit on my fingers before reaching down to circle his tight exit. More precum leaks from his dick. Licking him from root to tip, I swirl my tongue through the beads, tasting his saltiness. “You’re an addiction.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he pants, and I chuckle before shifting onto my knees and pulling him to his. Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I press my forehead to his and palm his big cock. A hiss escapes me when his warm hand closes around my length, and we stare at each other’s mouths while stroking each other’s dicks.

Cole wets his lips and frowns like he’s in pain. I pick up the pace, my chest heaving with shuddering breaths. “It feels so damn good,” he whispers.

My fingers slide into the damp hair at his nape, and he mirrors the movement. Fisting the strands tight, I smile. “Good. I want us to come together.”

“I want you to fuck me,” he admits.

My lips pull to the side. “No, you don’t.”

His breathy chuckle wafts across my parted lips. “Oh, I fucking do.”

“Then beg me to fuck you, Cole. Beg me to fill you up with my cock. Beg me, and I might give it to you.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, briefly closing his eyes. “You’re killing me.”

“Are you close?” I ask, staring at his tempting lips. “Please tell me you’re close. I need to feel you come all over my hand.”

“Please, Blaise.” His throat jumps. “Fuck me.”

“Soon,” I reply as I tease the tip of his dick with my thumb. The moment his muscles stiffen and cum rains from our cocks simultaneously, I crush my mouth to his and devour his swollen lips. “That’s it,” I praise between kisses. “You’re coming so hard for me, big brother.” A jet of cum hits me on the throat, and I drive my tongue into his mouth. “You’re delicious. Come all over me, Cole. Fuck me up.”

“Christ,” he groans, his fingers twitching in my hair. “Fuck, I can’t…” His hips stutter. More cum rains over my chin, and I relish it. We breathe hard, staring at each other. Glancing down at my cum-covered chest, I snigger. Cole is no better off. Cum drips down his chest and abs, and some has even made it to his collarbone.

I see the mischief in his eyes before he launches himself at me. “Come here, you fucker. You know you want a hug.” And just like that, we’re laughing and wrestling on the bed. Cole soon gets the upper hand, but not because he is stronger than me. No, I love the victorious glint in his eyes as he pins me to the bed with my hands on the pillow beneath my head.

“I surrender,” I say, swallowing and staring at the racing pulse in his neck. “You win.”

Cole blinds me with his smile as his hair flops over his eyes. I feast my eyes on Cole Carter, naked on top of me, his muscles straining in his arms.

“How come you won’t go to the party tonight?” I ask and regret it the moment the words leave my lips.

Cole’s smile falls, and he climbs off me and flops onto his back. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Is that the only reason?” I ask.

With his arm behind his head, he stares up at the ceiling. I turn over onto my side and push up on my elbow.

“Why are you going?” he asks, not looking at me. “They’re not your friends.”

I have to go to this party for personal reasons. Jackson has flirted with me on multiple occasions, and I know it makes Cole uncomfortable. Something happened between them the morning when Cole picked me up. I’m not sure what exactly, but Jackson’s busted lip tells me everything I need to know.

“I’m gonna talk to Jackson,” I say, and Cole whips his eyes in my direction.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

I can feel him pull away even before he sits up and reaches for his clothes on the floor.

“Dammit, Cole,” I breathe, dragging my hands down my face. “You’re so quick to run away. Just hear me out.”

“Then talk. I’m not stopping you.” He pulls his top on with jerky movements.

I sigh. “This is exactly why I need to talk to him. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to come between the two of you. He’s your friend.”

“Some fucking friend,” Cole mutters, swiping up his pants off the floor.

Sitting up, I place my hand on his shoulder, and he stiffens. That hurts more than the hard look in his eyes. “I’m going to smooth things out with him. It upsets you when I hang out with him, so I won’t do that anymore. But I can’t just ignore him either. I need to have this conversation.”

Cole snorts and rises to his feet, hopping on one leg while he pulls his socks on. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

“What happened to the threats on the football field? I thought you were gonna snap my legs.” I say it as a joke, but my voice trembles too much, and Cole inhales a ragged breath. “I thought you said you trusted me.”

“I do trust you.”

“No, you don’t.” My jaw clenches tight. “Why are you walking away if you trust me? What is it that has you so worked up? Are you scared I’ll do something with him? You have nothing to worry about. I only want you. It’s okay if you’re jealous, but please talk⁠—”

“I’m not fucking jealous,” he spits.

“Fine…” I climb out of bed and stomp up to him. We’re toe to toe, just like before, but it feels like we’re oceans apart. “If the roles were reversed, I’d be jealous as hell. But I get it… You don’t feel the same way about me.” I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm. As his heat warms my back, I stare at the door.

“I do feel the same way. I’m just…scared.”

How can I not soften when he presses his lips to my bare shoulder? “I’ve never felt like this, and I don’t know how to handle these emotions.”

“What are you scared of?”

His breath drifts over my skin, and he kisses me again, higher up on my shoulder, closer to the curve where it meets my neck. “I’m scared of losing you. That maybe…you’ll figure out I’m not good enough.”

My heart squeezes. “You are good enough, Cole.”

More kisses.

More gentle touches.

“Come with me,” I plead.

He shakes his head and steps back. “No, it’s too risky.”

“Risky?”

Cole walks to the bedroom door and opens it before looking at me over his shoulder. I’m still naked, my dick flaccid. “I might kill him if I see him anywhere near you.” Looking past me to the window, he continues. “You’re right. I need to trust you, but what good does it do when I don’t trust myself around you?”

“So you won’t come?” My shoulders slump with disappointment, and I don’t know why. But a part of me had really hoped he would come with me.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he slips from my room, and something breaks inside me. Walking up to the door, I slam it shut with enough force to make the picture frames rattle. My eyes land on the creased bedsheets and bloodstains.

Every moment with Cole feels very much like one step forward and two back.

Tiago: Are you coming over tonight? Mia and Allie won’t be around.

Me: I can’t, sorry.

Tiago: You never spend time with us anymore.

Ronnie: He’s too busy sucking up to Cole’s friends.

Me: Leave him out of it. I have things I need to take care of tonight.

Tiago: You’re defending him? Who are you, and what did you do to my friend? Are you best buddies now?

Music blastsin the background as I tap the side of my phone. My stomach churns with unease as I shift on the couch. I’ve been distracted lately by Mia’s bullshit and my complicated emotions where Cole is concerned, and now the cracks are starting to show in my friendships. Ignoring the messages, I pocket my phone when Jackson flops down beside me. He rests his arm behind me on the couch and spreads his legs obnoxiously wide as though he owns the place. His eyes sparkle in the dim light as he flashes a side smirk. “Where’s your brother?”

“He couldn’t make it.”

He smiles and flicks his eyes to my mouth. “I’m glad you came.”

My teeth grind at the hidden meaning beneath those words. If he thinks I’ll fall for his blatant flirting, he’s dead wrong. Something about Jackson feels off, and I can’t put my finger on it. I sought him out the other day because I was in emotional pain and had nowhere else to turn. My bullshit radar was broken. But tonight, as he presses his thigh against mine, a shiver runs through me. It’s not a pleasant one. “Are you having a good time?”

A good time? I’ve sat on this couch alone for the last hour. Mia tried to speak to me earlier, but I brushed off her attempts, not in the mood. This isn’t my crowd. “Sure,” I reply instead.

“We’re doing another chase in a bit. You in?”

Frowning, I glance away from the busy dance floor—and by the dance floor, I mean the empty space in the living room where scantily clad girls hop around like Duracell bunnies on speed. “Another chase?”

“Yeah.” I stiffen when he grazes his fingers over my shoulder. “Like the other time when we broke up into teams.”

Something is definitely off. “Sure.” I open my mouth to talk to him about his flirting and how it needs to stop, when he jumps to his feet the moment Allie enters the room.

My brows knit together as he plants his lips on hers and shoves his tongue into her mouth. What is he playing at? And not only him. When he’s done eating her face, he whispers in her ear, and her eyes flick my way. I swear she’s smirking.

“Sup, man.” Samson slams his hand down on my shoulder, tearing me from my thoughts. Jumping over the back of the couch, he sits beside me. “See a pussy you like?”

I pretend to scan the crowd. Girls no longer interest me, but neither do guys. I have tunnel vision for Cole. “That one?” Samson asks, following my line of sight to a girl on the dance floor. Her short skirt swishes around her tanned thighs. Samson whistles, shoving a beer bottle at me. “I’m up for sharing if you’re into that stuff. A good old spit roast.”

I stare at the beer, trying to determine if Samson has slobbered over it, then pretend to take a sip. I don’t trust anyone anymore. “You can have her.”

He licks his lips like he is eyeing up a chopstick. “Thanks, man. I’ll ride her hard tonight. What do you think she’s into? Reverse cowgirl or doggy?”

“Doggy,” I reply absentmindedly, watching Jackson talk to some of the other guys. Why do I have such a bad feeling about tonight? It makes no sense.

“I think you’re right. She looks like an ‘ass in the air and face shoved into the pillow’ kinda girl. Those are my favorites. Nasty girls who like to be fucked hard.”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Whatever you say.”

Samson smacks his knees before standing up. “I’m going in. You partaking in the chase later?”

I nod. “Sure am.”

“Good, man.” Samson claps me on the shoulder, his eyes on the girl. “Later.”

“Later.” As he walks away, I scan the room for Jackson, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Fucking typical. I don’t know when I’ll get to speak to him at this rate. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I check for the hundredth time if Cole has messaged. He hasn’t.

My heart sinks. I type out a quick message, but delete it. Then I type another one, my thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button.

Me: I wish you were here.

I delete that one, too.