Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
T he following Saturday, we visit the nearest theme park with Ryan, Harrison, and my sister. The last time we were here was years ago, on a school trip.
Since the moment we arrived, Ryan has been on a mission to convince Arkin to go on the biggest rides. The evil glint in his eyes positively gleams as he pats him on the back. “What do you say, mate? Start with the thrill rides and leave the others to enjoy the teacups and the Jungle Cruise?”
With his hands in his pockets, Arkin just smirks.
I like how relaxed he is around my friends—how he slots in easily, like he always belonged with us. As Harrison stops to show them the rides’ estimated waiting times on the app, I bite back a smile. Why did I ever feel annoyed watching him interact with my friends? Why did it bother me? I know why: I was attracted to him but not yet ready to accept the truth.
“I think we should start with the swinging pirate ship,” Neriah suggests with a shrug, as a rollercoaster speeds past to our right with a metallic whoosh. People scream. “It’s a classic, and the queues are never too long.”
The boys are too busy arguing to listen. “Come on,” I say, throwing my arm around her shoulder and steering her toward the nearest food cart. What can I say? It’s never too early to eat.
Neriah rolls her eyes. “Seriously? We haven’t been here more than ten minutes, and you’re already buying something to eat?”
“Don’t be a spoil sport.” I flash my widest grin.
The ground is sticky in places, littered with fallen popcorn and crumpled ticket stubs. Overhead, strings of unlit lights crisscross, and I bet this place looks great at night when they glow like fireflies against the dark sky.
“What do you fancy?” I ask my sister. There’s a lot of choices, but the churros look tempting.
When it’s our turn to order, I get churros for me and Arkin, and mini donuts for my sister. The others can order their own food.
A few minutes later, they have finally decided on the Wicker Man, a wooden rollercoaster. We set off in that direction, and I hand Arkin his sweet treat, watching him bite into it. “Nice, huh?”
He nods, mouth coated in cinnamon dusting. I take a large bite of mine and almost moan out loud. It’s been years since I had one of these. I’d forgotten how tasty they are.
While we queue, Neriah smiles softly, glancing down at our interlaced fingers. I didn’t have the courage to hold his hand on our walk here, but now that we’re relatively shielded from view, I couldn’t resist the urge to reach for him. As we near the front of the queue, Ryan and Harrison eat the last of Neriah’s donuts.
Arkin looks at me, and I look at him. We smile.
And to my surprise, he pecks me on the lips. It’s quick but leaves me reeling.
“Never thought I’d see you blush,” Ryan says with a chuckle, breaking the moment. I glare at him but there’s no real fire there. In truth, I can’t remember the last time I felt this free. For the first time, I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.
After what feels like hours, it’s finally our turn to board the ride. The bar comes down, securing us to our seat. I ask Arkin if he’s been on this ride before, and he shakes his head. Then a thought occurs. “You have been to a theme park before, right?”
Another quick shake of his head. The ride rolls forward with a jerk, starting the steep incline.
Oh shit…
It turns out that Arkin is a lot tougher than he looks, although he resembled a ghost when we disembarked during the first thrill ride. After that, he was fine and even laughed on some of the bigger rides.
We drop Harrison and Ryan off at their place. Before Ryan exits the vehicle, he bumps knuckles with Arkin, who smiles brightly. “We gotta do that again sometime.”
Next, we drop Neriah off at her friend’s place. My introverted sister rarely leaves the house, so I have a sneaking suspicion there’s a boy involved. Her cheeks turn bright red when I tell her as much, and she hurries up the driveway before I can interrogate her further.
As she enters the house, Arkin jabs me in the ribs with his elbow. Stop glaring.
“What?” My voice is defensive. “She could get pregnant.”
Arkin rolls his eyes.
Muttering under my breath, I reluctantly rejoin the traffic, but only because Arkin reaches for my hand and soothingly strokes his thumb over the top. Guys are little shits who’ll do literally anything to wet their dicks, and the responsible big brother thing would be to hang around for a bit to ensure my sister’s crush knows the deal. It’s simple—if he hurts her, I’ll destroy him.
Ten minutes later, I pull into the driveway and cut the engine. The house is dark. My parents are out for a meal with their friends, which means we have the place to ourselves.
And that makes my stomach flutter.
Once inside, we’ve barely had time to remove our shoes before Arkin slams me up against the door and steals my breath with a hard, lingering kiss. And then we’re on the move, clawing at each other’s clothes, but we don’t make it to my room.
The stairs groan beneath our weight as Arkin lays me down and hurriedly pulls my aching cock out of my pants.
I hiss a breath, which he silences with a hungry kiss as I work his jeans and briefs down his legs with my feet.
His firm bare ass feels amazing in my hands, and I dig my fingers into the warm flesh until he juts his hips forward with a grunt. His shirt is in the way, so I pull it up before running my hands over every inch of smooth skin.
His muscles flex and ripple enticingly beneath my touch—I want to kiss every inch of him. But first, I need him to destroy me. Right here on the steps.
Arkin’s lips leave a tingling path of biting kisses down my stubbly chin and throat and across my chest. Then lower still.
When he finally takes me in his mouth, I groan deep in my chest, knowing there’s a real chance I might blow my load prematurely if he keeps sucking me this good.
His chest rumbles as I pull on his hair, squirming.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why is he so good at this? The last thing I want is to come too soon, but he makes it so damn hard. As he relaxes his throat around my throbbing length, my balls draw up tight.
Luckily, before I tip over the edge, he crawls up my body again, and I pull him closer by his firm ass.
We move as one, grinding our cocks together there on the steps until we’re both panting hard, equally aroused. I need him to take me upstairs and fuck me. I need him inside me. But I won’t let him stop now to grab lube.
“I’m close, baby,” I say, as my cock rolls against his.
He’s watching my face with heavy eyes while his big body crashes into mine again, and again, and again. My back will be bruised after this but fuck if I care. If anything, I want the proof of his animalistic desire. I want the proof of his claiming.
His chest rumbles again like an incoming storm, and he grabs hold of my chin.
Seconds later, hot pulsing cum sprays my chest and throat.
“Fuck, baby, that’s it. Come all over me,” I pant, and he turns my head to the side and bites my neck.
The sharp pain tips me over the edge, and as a wave of pleasure crashes into me, my vision blackens. No one fucks like Arkin. No one has ever made me come as hard as him.
Moaning, I arch my back while he swallows his name on my lips with maddening kisses—kisses that prolong my climax until I’m sure my empty nuts have shriveled up.
“Zachary?”
At the sound of my father’s weak voice, I jump ten feet into the air, shoving Arkin off me.
He falls back, but unlike me, he seems calm, and when he locks eyes with my father, his jaw hardens.
He tucks himself away while I struggle to do the same because my hands tremble too much. Suddenly sick with anxiety, I manage to get my jeans zipped and somehow stand up on wobbly legs.
My dad is here. What the hell is he doing back? He’s not supposed to be back until much later.
I can barely meet his eyes.
For long minutes, he bounces his gaze between us as though he can’t believe what he witnessed here. The surprise shifts to fury, and he sets his jaw. “Go upstairs and pack your bags,” he says to Arkin, and my eyes widen.
“What?” I blurt. “No…”
Dad’s furious expression lands on me, and in hindsight, I should have realized he’d never be okay with my sexuality. The way he looks at me now cuts me worse than I could have imagined.
He’s disgusted.
Without looking away from me, he addresses Arkin. “Pack your bags. You’re leaving tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near my family.”
I crack down the middle. A swinging machete to the chest would have hurt less.
When Arkin starts upstairs, panic fills me, and I hurry up after him, stumbling on the steps and knocking my knee. Sick with worry, the pain barely registers. Arkin can’t leave. I love him. I need him here.
Upstairs, I tear after him, darting ahead to block the door. “Don’t listen to him. You’re not leaving.”
Arkin slows to a stop with a careful expression on his face. I can see the mask he holds up to protect himself, but I won’t let him hide, so I grab his hand and place it over my heart.
“Feel this? Feel how it beats? How it races. I’m terrified, Arkin.” My voice chokes on the last sentence. “You don’t have to leave. I’ll talk to him. I’ll fix it. Better yet, we can leave together. We’re eighteen. We can make it work.”
“Zachary,” my father says at the top of the stairs.
I refuse to look at him. He doesn’t matter. The only thing I care about is the broken man in front of me. His demons can’t hide from me for once, swaying to a haunted tune in the depths of his guarded gaze.
My own want to join his. We’re both scared.
“Zachary!” my dad says sternly.
I look past Arkin. “Fuck you!”
I don’t know what to do. What do I do?
Arkin stares at his hand on my chest, his brows crashing together in a small, pained frown.
“Please,” I whisper.
His eyes lift to mine.
Pain stares back at me.
Regret.
Without another word, he shifts me out of the way and enters the room. Numb, I stand in the doorway, watching him haul his backpack from beneath the bed.
Before I fully process what’s happening, he has finished packing and is walking toward me with the bag slung over his hunched shoulder.
“Arkin?” I ask, but he won’t look at me. I try to block his way out of my room, not surprised when my eyes blur with tears.
How did we end up here? Minutes ago, we made love on the stairs, and now he’s walking out of my life as though he didn’t crash into it like a twister set on uprooting my heart.
I never stood a chance and was caught up in him before I could protect myself, and now he’s spitting me out and leaving me broken and bleeding in a field.
“What about the abbey? Our safe place?”
His throat rolls; he looks miserable.
Good. He should.
“Zachary!” my father barks, losing his patience.
The sudden outburst makes Arkin flinch, and before I can shout at my dad for scaring him, he pushes past me. Then disappears down the hallway.
My dad observes me like he’s never seen me before—perhaps because I’m sobbing. “How long?” he asks.
Wiping my cheeks, I debate running after Arkin—I’ll beg on my knees if I have to—but I’m too weak. I slide down the wall, feeling very much like the shattered pieces of a plate someone threw in a rage. “What does it matter?” I ask tiredly.
I should shout at my dad. Anger should be at the forefront now, but I don’t feel much of anything. Maybe I’m broken after all?
All I know is I feel nothing toward the man who raised me. And with the way he’s looking at me now, like I’m faulty somehow, he could be a stranger in the street for all I care.
Fuck him.
“He’s a vulnerable young man, Zachary,” Dad reasons. “Did you ever stop to think about that?”
My chin wobbles pathetically. My face is an open book. I flex my jaw.
I need him to leave so I can stop holding myself together by a thin thread.
He reads the bitterness his words evoke and sighs. “It’s wrong, son. God made man and woman?—”
“I DON’T CARE!” I roar.
Shocked, he watches me tip my head back against the wall.
“Just leave,” I whisper brokenly, staring up at the ceiling through a sea of blurry tears that hover precariously before finally trailing down my cheeks.
“Fine,” he replies. “We will talk about this when I return.”
My jaw flexes again. I say nothing.
No, we won’t.
I doubt I’ll ever talk to him again. Now I understand why Arkin’s voice was a weapon.
Dad’s footsteps retreat, and as soon as the front door shuts, I let myself bleed out there on the floor.
One moment, I had it all. The next, it was ripped from me in the blink of an eye, and I knew I would never be okay again.
There’s no sign of my twister. It has evaporated, and now the sky is clear.
I hate this cloudless sky.
Bring back the storm. My whirlwind.