Page 38 of Played
I work my hand up and down his solid length, reveling in the feel of him, hot and smooth. Swiping the pad of my thumb over his crown, I collect the precum there and use it as lube to work him over. And while I do, I grind my aching shaft against his hip, feral with need for him. Eager for him to touch me the way I’m touching him or to sink myself into any part of him. Mason James is unraveling me. Every time I have any contact with him, it pulls at another loose thread. Soon, there will be nothing left of me but a mess of desire.
“Tell me how good it feels to have my hands on you after all this time,” I growl in his ear. “I’ve waited so fucking long to touch you again.”
His hands rake over my scalp while he fucks my hand. “Jesus, fuck, King,” he cries, spilling warm ribbons of hot cum over my fist.
Panting for breath, he staggers back and glares at me. “Get the fuck out of my office.”
Fuck. Did I push him too far? He did want that, right? “Mason, I’m sorry, I just…” I wipe my hand on my shirt, staining it with his cum.
“Get the fuck out, King!” he bellows.
Filled with remorse and anger, I walk out of his office and make a vow to never go back. This job was a mistake, and jerking off my boss in his office was a bigger mistake. One I won’t make again.
Chapter
Nineteen
KING
You fucking disgust me! I hate you. You’re a freak. An abomination against God. I should have smothered you at birth.The words of Emmeline and Kyngston Worthington III ring in my ears for the whole ride home. It’s like they’re trapped inside my bike helmet and I can’t get them out.
And then I hear Mason screaming at me to get out. I recall the hurt expression on his face. The fear in his eyes. Was he scared of me? I would never hurt him.
Except I did.
Now it’s my own words playing over and over. The ones I said to Mason after my father caught us together.Didn’t you hear me when I told you that you fucking disgust me? Did you think any of this was real?This was a joke to see exactly how far you’d go, so that I can tell everyone about what a pathetic, needy, sick little shit you really are. I hate you. You’re a fucking freak! You think any of this is real? I’m not gay. Never have been. Never will be.
I blamed him for corrupting me. Me—the one who was older and bigger and stronger. The person who should have protected him. Instead, I fed him to the wolves. I made him feel as small and worthless as I’d been made to feel my whole life. And I neverwent back and told him it was all a lie. A lie told by a scared little boy who still craved the love and approval of his parents. I left as soon as I could a few days later, and I let him go on believing I meant every word.
When I stop at a light, I open my visor and scrub the tears from my eyes so I can see properly.
By the time I get to Marble Hill, I’ve cleared my head enough that I can face Amanda and my grandfather without them worrying something has happened. The last thing I want to do is burden either of them.
My heart sinks at the sight of Dr. Lichtenstein’s car parked outside the apartment, and I turn off my bike engine and race inside.
Amanda is crying on the sofa.
Now I can’t breathe.
She looks up. “King! I left you a voicemail. I had to call the doctor an hour ago. I called your parents too, but they said they d-didn’t want to c-come.” She sobs loudly.
I pull out my phone and see her voicemail from a little over an hour ago, the time it took me to get here in New York traffic. I’m scared to ask… “Is he dead?”
She shakes her head, and I almost drop to the floor with relief. At that moment, Dr. Lichtenstein walks out of Grampa’s room, a solemn look on his face.
“Doc? Is he okay?” I plead. His breathing was a little more labored than normal this morning, but he was here. He was alive. He laughed at a stupid joke I told him.
“He’s comfortable, but he’s not conscious. He doesn’t have long left, Mr. Blackthorn. If there is anyone who would like to say their final goodbyes, then I would suggest you call them immediately.”
Pain twists my insides into a knot. This is it then. “Thanks, Doc.”
He offers me a faint smile and rests a comforting hand on my arm. “He sure is a fighter. I’m going to miss him.”
All I can do is nod my thanks before he leaves.
Amanda sniffs, scrubbing at her cheeks with the sleeve of her cardigan. “I really wish I could stay but… I look after my nephew on Thursday nights for my sister… and she can’t…” A sob steals the rest of her sentence.
I pull her into a hug, probably needing the human contact more than she does. “It’s okay. You’ve done more than anyone could have expected. He truly loved spending time with you. Thank you for everything.”
