Page 28 of Bruised

Oliver shrugs and smiles wryly. “I don’t. It’s Logan’s poster. It was one of the few things he left.” His voice is light, as if it doesn’t matter much to him, but I know it does. I can see the little tells, like how his shoulders grow stiff and how his chewing slows.

I set my empty plate aside, unsure if I should ask this or not. It’s not that I think he’ll get angry with me; it’s just… it’s a touchy subject. “Hey, um… Have you heard from him? Logan, I mean.”

Like I suspected, Oliver’s eyes darken, and he looks away. “No. If I had, I would’ve told you.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

As far as I remember, when Logan broke up with Oliver and Mason’s mom, he left town and changed his number. He went from years of being their stepdad to being a stranger.

My mom died when I was really young, and Dad worked so much he hardly had time to find another partner. I can’t imagine what it would be like if your stepdad disappeared like that for seemingly no reason. I mean, sure, the relationship with Oliver’s mom didn’t work out, but Logan seemed to have been close to her sons, so why just cut them off like that?

Oliver tears his gaze from the poster and smiles at me again, but it looks forced. “Hey, ready to smash this quest?”

“Yeah.” I boot up my laptop, and we go to town. Focusing on gaming has worked okay so far—uh, since I started to get physical with Mason, I mean—but now and again, memories of last night invade my mind, and I have to be careful I don’t get a boner. We’re young and horny, but for some reason, Oliver gets kind of awkward whenever the subject of sex comes up, just like he gets awkward talking about his estranged stepdad.

Anyway, aside from a snack break, we game until about 1 AM. During my nightly shower, my thoughts start to stray and my hands start to roam, but I know I won’t come if I try to jerk off. I’ll only get even more frustrated.

Something is deeply wrong with me to need Mason to be able to come. I need his rough hands and his deep voice and his big… cock. Fuck. Uh… Oh no.

I end up having to stand in the shower and try to think the most unsexy thoughts to make my erection go down before I can face Oliver, and when I do, I’m so embarrassed I can barely keep up with his enthusiasm about our successful quest. Guilt swirls through my chest, but that guilt is quickly overridden by excitement for tonight.

By the time Oliver’s snoring and I’m wide awake on the mattress in the dark, it’s already 3 AM. Not late by my standards, but I know Mason keeps a different sleep schedule. I shouldn’t really care, but I’d rather not walk in on him sleeping again. He looked annoyed last time. Scary. His annoyance didn’t last long, though.

I get up from my mattress on light feet and make my way to his room. When I get inside, the bedside lamp is lit, and Mason is sitting naked on the side of the bed, as if he was waiting for me and knew exactly when I would come.

“I want you on your knees this time, puppy,” he says.

My mouth goes dry. “Why?”

“You’ll see. Just come here.”

I approach him and drop to my knees on the floor, and my mouth waters as the position puts his cock at eye level. It’s thick and slumped between his substantial thighs, not yet hard.

Mason slides a hand into my hair, tugging gently. “Want a treat tonight, puppy?”

A treat? I frown, then look down at his crotch, to… to…

A treat.

The realization sets my cheeks aflame.

This isn’t what we’ve agreed on. I don’t know what we’ve agreed on exactly, but until now the focus has been on making me come, not me touching him. Not really. Especially not… there. Oh, fuck. Does he want me to suck him off? My lower lip trembles with a mixture of excitement and dread.

It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I want it too much.

My mind shoots back to the porn video I’ve gotten off to countless times—the one with the older man and the younger one. Is Mason going to rip me off his cock and spit in my mouth? Is he going to slap my cheek with it? Fuck. We can’t be loud, though. What is he thinking?

“Go on,” Mason says, unaware or uncaring of the war going on in my head. “I know you’ve been thinking about it. You can hold it if you want.” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, offering it up to me.

I shuffle closer until his legs are on either side of my shoulders, caging me in. I’m so close I can smell him: salty musk, a faint whiff of shower gel, and a scent I can only describe as masculine. Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this. I shouldn’t. But I want to.

I wrap my fingers around his shaft, feeling it twitch in my hand. Wow, he’s big. I already knew that, but he’s fucking with my head so much that I kind of forget his body in favor of his presence and voice, even though they’re intimately connected. His cock is just another way to control me—thick, heavy, and pulsing in my grip.

The hand in my hair gives a little tug, guiding me to look up.

“You’re drooling for it, aren’t you?” Mason runs a finger at the corner of my lip, and I realize it’s wet—I am drooling. “Go ahead. Have a taste.”