Page 12 of One Twisted Lie

He snorts, shaking his head erratically as he puts on his shirt. “It was a warm mouth.”

“It wasmywarm mouth.”

Why am I pushing this? Why do I need to confirm what I already know? So what if Ozymandias is into whatever weird sexual tension we have, what does it matter to me?

But it does. It really fucking does…for a reason I can’t explain.

“I…” he trails off as he pulls on his pants. His back is to me like he can’t even be bothered to look at me as he speaks. “I liked it. But this was the last time.”

And he bolts. Likeliterallybolts. He runs out of the room so fast I’m surprised there’s no dust in his wake. I don’t get dressed immediately, though, I just take my time and chill on the bed. I think and think and think, and I’m fucking exhausted by the end of it.

Ozymandias can tell himself that we’re done, but I’m too smart for my own good. I have a feeling this twisted addiction has only just begun. And, just like him, I need to put a stop to it for good.

Because nothing good can come from fucking Ozymandias Rupert Clark.

Chapter 7

Ozymandias

I groan.

I’m so fucking bored. For the millionth time, I’m regretting staying at Armory Prep for the winter break. I wasn’t upset at all that my father decided to surprise my mom with a romantic trip to Paris, but now I’m wishing I had guilt-tripped them into letting me tag along, or at least gone home by myself.

But then I’d be alone for Christmas and there’s something just so pathetic about that. At least here I have my friends who also decided to stay at the dorms, with the exception of Daniel. I have Magnus, Avery, Carter…

Fuck. Carter.

I can’t even begin to describe what’s currently going on between us. A few weeks ago everything had been so hot and heavy between us, toxic and confusing, but now it’s complete radio silence. We haven’t really talked since the rave. He doesn’t even jab at me anymore for half the shit I say, and it’s fucking weird.

I should be happy he’s leaving me alone. He’s annoying as fuck, pompous about his intelligence, and too high and fucking mighty.

So why can’t I stop thinking about that night at the rave?

It was, by far, the hottest experience of my life. The girl had been amazing, super nice and sweet, but she’s not what I remember most. No. The only thing my mind focuses on is the way Carter looked while he fucked her. I can perfectly recall the way those thick glasses slipped down his nose. I can vividly picture how his abs tightened as he came on her face. I can reimagine how it felt to have his scruff brushing my skin with my cock in his mouth.

I can remember it and so can my dick.

It’s like an itch I can’t scratch. Whenever I see him, I…wanthim. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to wax poetic about our feelings or anything, but I wanthim. Jesus Christ, maybe his dick is magic.

My phone rings beside me, and I bless whoever’s dragging me out of these thoughts. When I see it’s my father, I frown and pick it up quickly. “Father, what’s up?”

My dad replies briskly, his voice all business.“Hey, son. How are the holidays?”

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my dad. I don’t particularly love him beyond a regular paternal bond—he helped make me, so thank you for that—but we’re not really a close family. When we’re together, we’re civil, and we have our pleasantries, but we’ve never been like Daniel’s or Avery’s families. But he’snothinglike Magnus’s dad. Fucking thank you. That man is a dick.

“What’s wrong?” I ask suspiciously, wondering if everything is okay with my mom. “You’re freaking me out.”

He sighs.“Well, I tried, but you’re right. Let’s cut to the chase.”

There he is.

“What’s going on?”

“I have a favor,”he says, his voice a bit strained beyond what I’m used to.

“Okay. Shoot.” I nod eagerly. Sure. He’s been a pretty chill parent. He doesn’t harp on me about my future because we know we’re on the same page. I never had a curfew growing up. He gave me a pretty hefty trust fund that he let me access at eighteen. I have no qualms about doing what he asks.

“I need you to get close to Carter Everett.”

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