Page 68 of Unspoken Rules

I don’t hesitate. I rub his come all over my dick and work it over fast. The only time I’ve ever come twice so closely together was with Cole. The time in the hotel in Astoria—and now. Because I am going to come again. And soon. He tucks his dick back in, zips and buttons his pants. He flicks his thumb along my nipple. I bite down on my lip, loving that he remembers how much I like that.

He plays with my nipple, pinching and tugging, which has me so fucking close. And when his other hand grasps the back of my neck and he pulls me in to kiss him, I’m a goner. I whimper into his mouth. Cole grasps the head of my cock, and I spill my cum into his hand. I’m so fucking dizzy, my body trembling. He bites my bottom lip before pulling away and looks down between us. I do the same, and something about seeing my cum in his cupped hand… It makes me feral. I’m overcome by this strange sense of possessiveness and need. It’s overwhelming. A little scary.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

My eyes dart to his. They’re so dark right now.

I open my mouth.

“Stick out your tongue.”

I do, still panting. Eyes still on his.

He slides his hand along my tongue, wiping all of my cum on it. Some drips down, some slides down my throat, but I stay like this because he hasn’t told me to do anything else. His gaze dips to my mouth, his pupils blowing wide. Cole grasps my chin harshly, moving so close our noses are touching.

“Now swallow it,” he growls in a low whisper.

I close my mouth and swallow.

“Show me,” he says.

I open my mouth to show him I swallowed it all. Like he told me.

He curses low under his breath, his jaw clenched. His eyes fall shut, and he rests his forehead against mine.

“Fuck, Bryson. What the hell are you doing to me?”

Whatever it is? You’re doing it to me too.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bryson

Saturday morning, I wake up to shouting, and hesitantly make my way downstairs. It’s been quiet all week, so I’m surprised they’re yelling so early. Cole and I haven’t spoken to each other, or done anything more, since the incident in Chris’s bathroom. I think when we agreed it was done, we meant it. And we certainly ended it on a great note. One I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, which has only made it harder to not talk to him.

Chris and I have seen each other in passing, chatted here and there, but he’s gone out every night. I’ve been busy at the tattoo shop, getting the painting done, and searching for jobs when I’m not.

I follow the voices to the kitchen, unable to hear what’s being said until I reach it. I find Chris shouting at Cole, who’s leaning against the counter, jaw clenched. He’s watching Chris, but nothing tells me he’s mad. Maybe a little stressed or concerned. Seems like he’s allowing Chris to let out his frustrations, which is a normal Cole thing to do. Did they talk things out? That would be awesome.

I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with their arguments, but after Chris admitted what he’s mad about, I feel an obligation to stop them from fighting. As his friend, I need to help him through this and stop him from being a dick to his dad for something they very well could work through.

In my head, this isn’t about me sticking up for Cole anymore. It’s stopping Chris from making a mistake and ruining his relationship with his father.

“—you don’t even know him,” Chris shouts, running a hand through his hair.

As if he can sense me, Cole lifts his head. Our eyes meet.

“Enough, Christopher,” he demands.

Chris follows his gaze and looks at me.

He’s pissed. And looking at me like I did something wrong.

Did he find out?

No way. He’d be furious if he found out. He’d be hitting someone. Me, most likely. He’d have barged into my room and woke me up. His temper isn’t anything new. And with how bloodshot his eyes are, he’s either drunk or tired. Maybe both. It’s barely ten in the morning. Whatever he’s mad about, it has nothing to do with me and Cole.

“You go in my room last night?” Chris barks, taking a few steps toward me.

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