Rutledge didn’t say anything.
Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.
“He’s your dad,” Shawn said.
Rutledge stubbed the cigarette out. “I didn’t bring you here so that you can lecture me about the importance of family.” His voice was clipped. Irritated.
“No. You brought me here to annoy your dad and prove your point. Don’t you think it’s petty and nasty?”
“He’s no victim. Dying doesn’t make him less of a piece of shit.”
“It doesn’t,” Shawn agreed.
“And you know nothing about our relationship.”
“You’re right: I know nothing. We’ve already established I’m just a dumb pretty boy.”
Rutledge turned to him. Shawn could feel the heat of his glare even in the dark.
“You’re incredibly annoying,” Rutledge said before yanking Shawn to him and crushing their lips together.
Several minutes later, Shawn opened his eyes and said, “This is annoying, too. You’re using my oral fixation thing against me.”
Rutledge kissed him again, and everything went dizzy, hot, and overwhelming.
Some unidentifiable time later, Shawn opened his eyes again and found himself lying in bed. Naked. And Rutledge was licking his nipple.
“We aren’t having sex,” Shawn said.
“Of course we aren’t,” Rutledge agreed. He was naked, too.
Shawn’s dazed gaze skimmed over his broad shoulders, densely muscled chest, and taut stomach, before lingering on his hard red cock. He felt his mouth water.
“No, seriously,” Shawn tried again but bit his lip when Rutledge wrapped a hand around his erection. God. “We aren’t having sex.”
Rutledge stroked Shawn’s cock a few times before letting go and spreading Shawn’s thighs.
Shawn tensed.
Rutledge stroked his inner thighs, his hands strong, and big, and so good—
“Don’t even think about it,” Shawn managed.
“Just lie back and enjoy, Wyatt.”
Shawn laughed. “Right. Like I don’t know what you really want. You want to stick your dick in me.”
Rutledge’s eyes seemed black as they met his. “I do want to ‘stick my dick’ in you. Before the night is over, you’ll want me to stick my dick in you, too.”
Shawn snorted, looking at Rutledge’s thick cock. “There’s no way in hell I’ll let that thing anywhere near my ass.”
“We’ll see.” Rutledge’s finger pressed firmly against the spot behind Shawn’s balls, making Shawn gasp. “I think you will. And you’ll look good on my cock.”
Shawn flushed. “Fuck you. You’re such an asshole. Bossy and—”
“Stop pretending you don’t like it.” Rutledge’s big hands stroked Shawn’s thighs again. “You like having someone in charge of you. You like to not have to be responsible for once and to just let go.”
Shawn opened his mouth to protest but he couldn’t deny it. His dick seemed to like Rutledge’s bossiness a whole lot. “It doesn’t mean I want your dick in my ass. I’m not even sure how that’s supposed to feel good. There’s no way it’ll fit.”
“It’ll fit, don’t worry.” Rutledge’s eyes looked dazed with lust as they roamed over Shawn’s naked body. “I must fuck you. The sooner, the better.”
Shawn licked his lips. “I don’t think—”
“Turn onto your stomach,” Rutledge said.
“I—”
“Turn onto your stomach,” Rutledge said again, in the tone of voice he used in classroom.
Shawn’s cock twitched. He rolled over, closed his eyes and told himself he could stop Rutledge any moment if things got too weird. He would.
Hands kneaded and stroked his ass before something wet and soft touched his buttock.
Shawn tensed. “Wait—”
“Relax, you’ll like it. All straight boys like it.” Rutledge chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, it won’t make you gay.”
Shawn found himself blushing. “Um, I had a shower, and I’m clean, but—”
“You have a beautiful ass.” Rutledge bit his buttock. “I’ve wanted to do this to you for ages.”
Rutledge’s lips closed down around his wrinkled opening and sucked, and Shawn’s brain gave up the battle.
Rutledge’s tongue pressed forward, tracing around his hole before giving it a long lick, and Shawn moaned, his thighs spreading wider of their own volition. Christ, nothing should feel this good.
Soft, and slick, he felt Rutledge’s tongue licking him, lapping at his hole with abandon. Then Rutledge’s thumbs held him open to the assault.
Fuck. Rutledge’s tongue worked into him slowly, pointing and giving soft jabs at his center, parting the muscle, coaxing it to relax, sliding inside. Eating him out. So filthy, so wrong, but Shawn made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob, rutting against the mattress, his cock rock hard and throbbing.
“More,” he gasped, shifting his body until he was on his knees, legs spread and head hung low. The stubble on Rutledge’s face scratched the soft flesh of his buttocks, intensifying the sensations and reminding him once again that it was a man licking his hole. It was his professor eating him out.
The thought sent a rush of blood to his cock and he whimpered, pushing back against Rutledge’s mouth as Rutledge fucked him with his tongue. It wasn’t enough. His hole felt oversensitive, clenching for something hard to grab hold of.
They moved together, that wicked tongue trying to get deeper into him with every forward thrust. He was whimpering and shaking so badly, on edge and unable to come. He ached, and Rutledge’s tongue wasn’t big enough, couldn’t get deep enough, and Shawn needed more. “More.”
Rutledge pulled away from him, and then there were slick fingers massaging Shawn’s entrance with a circular motion, and Shawn moaned. He was having trouble thinking, his body taking over and trying to impale itself on Rutledge’s fingers. Rutledge pushed the fingers in—one, then another, scissoring them quickly before pulling them out again.
Panting, Shawn waited. He heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open. It should have made him panic—what was about to happen—but he was past the point of freaking out. He was so empty. So hard.
Rutledge flipped him onto his back. Shoving a pillow under Shawn’s hips, he lined himself up between his legs, his dark eyes glazed with desire.
Shawn willed himself to relax as the thick head of Rutledge’s cock slowly started to stretch him. He felt himself pulled taut, burning, as Rutledge slowly pushed into him, Shawn’s insides reluctantly giving way to the intrusion.
“Oh,” Shawn breathed out when Rutledge was fully inside. He gripped Rutledge’s arms, his thighs trembling. It hurt. Of course it hurt.
Rutledge took a deep breath in, his muscles rigid under Shawn’s fingers. Rutledge’s body was tense as hell, as though he was fighting for control.
Shawn’s eyes fluttered shut, mouth falling open as he panted hotly. He was practically impaled on Rutledge’s cock, pleasure chasing the pain as he was stretched to his limit. He felt so full, Rutledge’s cock heavy inside him in all the right ways. It still ached, creating an exquisite agony that made his cock throb and leak against his stomach. The sensation of fullness was satisfying in a way he couldn’t explain.
“I’m good,” Shawn said, and to his surprise, he was. The intensity, the feeling of vulnerability was doing strange things to him, and he was melting, and he wanted—
Rutledge started moving.
Shawn could only open and close his mouth uselessly as the weird, intense pleasure started building up.
Rutledge’s cock nudged against his prostate, hard, and Shawn cried out, fingers digging into Rutledge’s shoulders. “Oh god, oh god,” he muttered between unintelligible words and noises as Rutledge thrust in and out, fucking him in earnest now. It still hurt, but Shawn could only concentrate on the intense, maddening pleasure building up inside of him. He was aching all over, need pumping in him as Rutledge’s coc
k buried deep in him, but not deep enough, never enough, and it was good, so good, so very good—
Tossing his head back, Shawn bit his lip as Rutledge practically bent him in half, directing his cock at an angle that made Shawn whimper.
Rutledge leaned down and started kissing him in time with his thrusts, his tongue delving deeply, and all Shawn could do was hold on and ride with the storm. He completely lost track of time, his whole world narrowing to Rutledge—Derek—his hot mouth, his cock, his hands roaming all over Shawn’s body. Shawn wasn’t even speaking anymore, just taking it and moaning. His hole was twitching around Rutledge’s cock as Rutledge pounded into him without restraint, kissing and biting Shawn’s neck and shoulders. Shawn’s dick was near bursting and he tried to touch himself, but Rutledge didn’t let him.
Shawn could feel his belly tightening, feel his hole begin to pulse, throbbing down around the hard cock that continued to fuck him, never letting up, taking his breath and his sanity and his inhibitions.
Shawn groaned, digging his fingers into Rutledge’s shoulders. “I can’t—”
“You can.” Rutledge gave a brutal thrust against Shawn’s prostate, his fingers gripping Shawn’s hips painfully. “Come on.”
And Shawn came, his body shuddering as his orgasm ripped through him.
Rutledge slammed into him a few times before groaning and going very still on top of him.
Shawn lay limply under him, his breathing still erratic, his body quivering in aftershocks.
He felt himself drift off to sleep, feeling warm, good and satisfied.
Chapter 11
When Shawn woke up, he was alone. Judging by the sunlight coming through the window, it was about eight in the morning.
Yawning, he sat up and stretched, trying to gather his thoughts.
Last night’s events seemed bizarre and surreal. If his body didn’t ache and his ass didn’t hurt, he would have thought it was just a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream.
He’d had real sex with Rutledge. He’d had Rutledge’s dick in him.
Licking his lips, Shawn climbed out of the bed, wincing a bit as the movement sent a fresh wave of dull pain through his ass, and walked to the mirror.
He was covered in bruises.
Shawn stared at the finger-shaped bruises on his hips and thighs and tried to decide whether he was freaking out or not. He was, a bit, but not because of the whole gay thing. Sure, he had never expected to have sex with a man, but gay sex in itself didn’t bother him that much—at least not to the point of panicking and being hysterical. His parents were gone, and his best friend was bi, so there was no one to judge him—no one he cared about.
What did bother Shawn was the fact that he’d had sex with Rutledge. It wasn’t in the deal. Sure, Rutledge had been pretty bossy and determined to fuck him, but Shawn could have easily refused. Could have easily stopped him. But he hadn’t. That freaked him out.
Not to mention the intensity of sex had been almost scary. Scary good.
Biting his lip, Shawn ran a finger over the bruise on his hip. His skin tingled.
The bathroom door suddenly opened, and Shawn jumped a little.
Rutledge stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt. He came to a halt at the sight of Shawn, and Shawn had to suppress the urge to cover himself with his hands. He forced his body to relax, telling himself not to be ridiculous. He had nothing Rutledge hadn’t seen already last night.
Something flashed across Rutledge’s face before it closed off, his features becoming hard and distant. “How much do you want?”
“What?”
“How much do you want for last night?”
Shawn sucked in a sharp breath. “How much do I want?” he repeated.
Rutledge walked to the desk and picked up his cell phone. “Yes. Name your price.”
Shawn stared at his wide back. “Price.”
“Yes, price,” Rutledge said, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice. “What’s so hard to understand?”
His stomach clenching, Shawn picked up his discarded boxers and slipped them on, ignoring the discomfort in his ass. He wanted a shower—he felt dirty—but he didn’t want to remain naked and vulnerable.
“Five thousand,” he said. That had to make Rutledge angry, right?
A pause.
“Fine.”
Apparently not.
Shawn would have laughed, except the knot in his stomach rose, becoming a tight lump in his throat and making him vaguely sick.
Without a word, he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door very quietly.
Leaning back against it, Shawn closed his eyes.
The door was cold against his skin.
* * *
A long, hot shower cleared his head.
By the time Shawn emerged out of the bathroom, he knew what to do, but Rutledge was gone. Shawn was about to call him when he noticed Rutledge’s cell phone on the desk. Sighing, Shawn went to check on the twins, but they were still asleep, so he decided to go find Rutledge. The sooner he got it over with, the better.
After about fifteen minutes of wandering, Shawn finally admitted he had no clue where he was anymore. This wing of the mansion was completely unfamiliar to him, and he couldn’t find any servants to tell him where Rutledge was.
The mansion was almost eerily quiet. The place was luxurious, but it felt like a museum, not someone’s home. Shawn wondered what it would have been like to grow up there, and a chill ran up his spine.
Entering yet another room, Shawn froze upon seeing Joseph Rutledge seated behind a huge desk.
“Sorry,” Shawn said, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to—”
“As a matter of fact, I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Wyatt.”
“Me?” Shawn looked at him warily but stepped back into the room and closed the door.
Joseph’s thick gray eyebrows drew together. “Indeed. Take a seat.”
Shawn sat down in the chair opposite the old man and waited.
The silence stretched as they eyed each other.
Once again, Shawn was taken aback by how much Joseph Rutledge and his son resembled each other. It appeared the men in this family aged very well. This was what Rutledge would look like in thirty or forty years. Not that Shawn would see it.
“Mr. Wyatt,” Joseph Rutledge said at last when Shawn refused to drop his gaze. “For how long have you been in this unnatural relationship with my son?”
Shawn had to remind himself that Joseph Rutledge was very ill. He shouldn’t be getting into arguments with a dying man. “Less than a month, sir.”
“That makes it easier.” Joseph Rutledge picked up a pen and wrote something on a piece of paper before sliding it across the desk to Shawn. “I believe this would be a fair compensation for ending your association with my son.”
Shawn glanced at the paper and then stared at it.
“Wow, I’m flattered you value me so highly,” he said and stood up. “Thanks but no thanks.”
“You’re a fool, boy,” said the old man with a disdainful look. “He will throw you away in a few weeks at most. He always does.”
“How do you know that? You hadn’t seen him in fifteen years.”
Joseph sneered. “He might not live here anymore, but it changes nothing. I know everything about him. Every toy he had and threw away. Granted, there were a few persistent ones, but everybody has a price.”
When his meaning registered, Shawn felt sick to his stomach. “You’re sick,” he whispered. “Does he know you paid his lovers off?”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Of course he does. He’s my son. He’s no fool—except for his foolish insistence that he is homosexual.”
Shaking his head, Shawn stood up and headed to the door. There was no reasoning with this man.
When he opened the door, Joseph’s voice stopped him,
“Name your price, Mr. Wyatt. Everything has a price.”
“Some things don’t.” Shawn walked out.
>
Everybody has a price.
So this was what Joseph Rutledge had taught his son.
Shawn wasn’t sure who he pitied more at this moment: Rutledge, his father or himself.
Chapter 12
He finally found Rutledge on the terrace half an hour later.
“I’m going home,” Shawn said.
Rutledge’s back stiffened. He turned around, a cigarette in his hand.
Strange. Until yesterday, Shawn had thought he didn’t smoke at all.
Rutledge took a long drag, studying him with an unreadable expression. “Why? We’re supposed to leave tomorrow.”
“I talked to your father.”
For a moment, Rutledge went very still before a sardonic smile appeared on his face. “How much did he offer you?”
“A lot. Only an idiot would refuse.”
Rutledge turned away. “Congratulations. The easiest money you’ve ever made.”
Shawn eyed his straight back. “Well, we’ve already established I’m dumb, didn’t we?”
A pause.
Rutledge let out a laugh. “You should have taken the money, Wyatt.”
“I don’t like him.”
Rutledge turned around again and ground out his cigarette with his shoe. “No one likes him. It’s not a good enough reason not to accept the money. We know it would have made no difference.”
“We know it, but he doesn’t.” Shawn cocked his head. “Are you really okay with me accepting his money? He thinks I’m your boyfriend.”
Rutledge’s lips twisted. “My father has been paying my boyfriends off ever since I was fifteen. You wouldn’t have been the first. The old man’s stubborn enough to think I’ll marry a nice little girl if he puts an end to every relationship I try to have. Though I’m a bit surprised this time. Usually he bothers only if the guy lasts more than a month—which doesn’t happen that often.”
Shawn stared at him. “You can’t mean all of them accepted his money.”
“No. Not all of them. But most.”
There was a bland mask of indifference on Rutledge’s face, and Shawn had to curl his hands into fists and look away, trying to shake off the urge to touch him.
Just a Bit Twisted Page 6