Page 22 of Second Shot

When he starts to whimper and shudder, I smile slyly. “Not yet,” I say, loving the way he grits his teeth in frustration. But he obeys me. He holds my gaze, sweat breaking out all over his body.

“Please,” he pleads, his ribs distending as he struggles for control. “Oh, fuck, please, Gabe. Fuck, fuck.”

His cock swells and I squeeze his shaft harder, loving the desperate noises he’s making. “You like it when I touch your cock?”

“So good,” he whines, thrusting up into my hands. His eyes are fastened on me as if I hold the key to the universe. I suspect I do hold the key to his universe in this moment. But he’s being such a good, obedient boy, I relent.

“Okay.” I stroke him a few more times, then growl, “You can come.” My voice is low and commanding.

Ryan’s eyes roll back in his head as he comes, thick spurts of cum shooting across his stomach and chest, some of it splattering onto my hand. His cry is desperate and yearning, and it makes my spent dick twitch in response. I keep stroking him through his orgasm, milking every last liquid pearl from him until he’s silent.

I let go of him and I lie down beside him. I don’t kiss him. What we did together, it wasn’t lovemaking or anything like that. This was all about power, control, and release, and I liked it. Ireallyliked it. Mostly because I just made my childhood bully swallow my cum and then shoot buckets on command.

How many people can say that?

The room smells like sex, heavy and musky. I’m tired now, and it’s a struggle to keep my eyes open. My body is warm and relaxed. I’m aware of Ryan getting off the bed and going into the bathroom. I don’t know what he’s feeling right then, and I don’t really care. I enjoyed bossing him around and coming in his mouth, but thatdoesn’t mean we’re besties now. He still has no clue who I really am.

When he comes out of the bathroom, he goes to his own bed. I’m relieved. It would have been awkward otherwise. I don’t want to snuggle with him. I just wanted to use him. I wanted to claw back some of the helplessness and power he took from me as a kid. And I do feel better.

I had Ryan built up in my mind as this perfect guy. But he’s not perfect. Truth be told, Ryan Caldwell is an emotional mess. I’m still angry at him for what he did to me as a kid. But I can see now that something deeper was going on with Ryan back then and now. Someone made him like this. Someone made him crave praise the way a man dying of thirst in the desert craves water.

“No one can know about this,” I say gruffly.

“Okay. I won’t tell a soul.” A few seconds pass and he asks quietly, “So then, we’re good? You’re not upset with me now?”

It’s not like the pain and humiliation I suffered at his hand has been washed away by what we did tonight. But I do feel better. I don’t feel weak or scared anymore. Some of my anger has faded by having him at my mercy. The way he so willingly submitted to me has me intrigued by this version of Ryan Caldwell.

I know the smart thing to do is to tell him all is forgiven, even if it isn’t. I can never go back in time and undo what was done to me. Caldwell could drain my dick every night for a year and it would never be enough to erase the pain he caused me. But the one thing tonight has allowed me to see is that Ryan isn’t a happy man. He’s a man with his own demons, and seeing that has taken away much of my thirst for revenge.

I’m no saint, and I’m not saying my anger is gone. He’s not forgiven for what he did to me. But the truth is, revenge against someone as broken as Ryan doesn’t feel as sweet. It feels more like kicking a puppy. The idea of being mean to him makes me feel like I’m becoming what I hated most in him—a bully.

“Gabe,” he asks softly. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” I roll over, studying his dark form lying on his bed. After a few beats, I force myself to say, “We’re good.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath. “Okay, great.” He hesitates. “Would you be willing to tell me why you had a problem with me?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he says quickly, as if worried maybe he’s upset me. “That’s okay. I’m just glad we’re good now.”

“Go to sleep, Caldwell,” I say harshly. I don’t want to engage in pillow talk with the guy.Yeah, I thoroughly enjoyed his mouth on my dick, but I don’t want to have a heart to heart with him.

I’m going to try to put this behind me. All of it, the bullying and the sex. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’ve hated Ryan Caldwell much of my life. He’s consumed my thoughts since middle school. I always knew we’d cross paths again.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would end with his mouth on my cock, but here we are.

Chapter Six

Ryan

I wake up feeling like someone took a sledgehammer to my skull and then filled the cracks with coffee grounds. The Vegas hotel room is too bright and smells faintly of sex. My mouth tastes like I gargled with vinegar, and when I try to sit up, the room spins like a carnival ride.

Why the hell did I drink so much last night?

Memory comes back in fragments— Tam dumping me, the bars, the team, Jacobs following me to the bathroom and getting in my face about... something. Then coming back here and...

Oh, fuck.

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