Chapter 3 Ruin You
Oliver snored all night. I usually find it soothing rather than annoying, but not this time.
I had a hard time falling asleep. Not because of Oliver—because of him.
Not that he made noise or anything, but his mere presence in this house puts me on edge.
When Oliver and I tried to have another chill evening gaming, it turned out not so chill when Mason started rummaging around in the kitchen and eating my candy, all while watching me with his all-consuming gaze.
He’s too shameless in the way he looks at me. Predatory. Who can blame me for finding it unsettling?
He’s Oliver’s big brother, and he’s staying in the house all summer. Oliver warned me to stay away from him, but the thing is, being told to stay away from something usually only makes me want it more. Not good. Bad. Very bad, in fact.
I turn around and try to fall back asleep—it’s only ten in the morning, and Oliver and I stayed up until four.
But Oliver keeps snoring, and my thoughts keep churning.
I’m sleeping on a mattress on the floor next to Oliver’s bed, and it’s comfortable, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not my bed.
It’ll take a while until I get used to it, I guess. That’s fine—I have all summer.
There’s a loud bang downstairs. Startled, I snap my eyes open. What the fuck?
I glance over at Oliver’s bed. He’s still asleep, snoring. I don’t want to wake him, but I need to know where that noise came from, so I drag a pair of jeans over my briefs. Keeping the black shirt I’m already wearing, I trudge downstairs, wondering what the hell is going on.
Outside the kitchen window is the largest truck I’ve ever seen in a suburban neighborhood.
It’s backing up against the parking garage, and Mason is there, directing it.
He’s shirtless, and my eyes fix on the ripple of muscles by his shoulder blades, the dimples on either side of his lower back, and the waistband of his underwear peeking above his tight black gym shorts.
I go outside in the light drizzle. The summer heat hasn’t really arrived yet, if it ever will. In Portland, you never really know.
I approach warily. Mason hasn’t noticed me yet, busy directing the truck.
I watch as the delivery guy unlocks the cargo doors to reveal what looks like gym equipment.
Mason helps him lower the liftgate before he rolls the equipment out of the truck and onto the driveway with the help of a hand truck.
Mason spots me out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, hey, puppy. Want to help me carry? A little heavy for you, though.” He winks, and I freeze in place.
I should shut him down, tell him not to call me by that name, but all I do is stare as Mason and the delivery guy roll the packages into the garage.
“What’s going on?” Oliver asks behind me. He’s followed me into the front yard, shirtless like his brother, dressed only in socks and shorts.
Unlike his brother, he’s lean in a lanky sort of way, much like myself.
He lacks the proper “manly” look of Mason.
Shows what only a couple of years can do to make someone seem so much more grown.
Besides that, I doubt Mason is a gamer like Oliver and me.
He looks like the type who moves more than he sits around.
He obviously works out, and he’s obviously, uh…
ridiculously fit. He looks like he could be on the front of a fitness magazine.
“Thought I’d set up a home gym so I don’t have to go into town to work out,” he says.
“You thought?” Oliver growls. “Have you asked Mom about this?”
Mason places a weight set on the garage floor and shrugs, wiping his brow clear of sweat.
He always has that taunting smirk on his lips when talking to Oliver.
When talking to me too, for that matter.
Or rather, talking at me. I haven’t exactly talked back, too fucking stunned at the mere sight of him.
“It’s temporary, anyway,” Mason says, rolling his broad shoulders. “I’m just renting this shit. I know a guy.”
Oliver rolls his eyes. “Oh, you know a guy.” He makes mock quotes in the air. “As if I couldn’t figure that out on my own.”
“Well, you asked, little brother.”
Oliver gives a frustrated groan. “So this is where you’re gonna hang out all summer?”
Mason shrugs. “Pretty much. Gotta keep this body up and running, you know.” He splays his arms out, showcasing his trimmed torso, visible abs, and muscular pecs.
Mason isn’t slow to notice my stare. He winks at me, and I should look away, but I trail my gaze further down instead, to the black gym shorts clinging to his substantial thighs, and between them, a noticeable bulge. Wow. He looks… big.
I gulp, tearing my eyes away.
Oliver follows Mason’s gaze and glances at me with a roll of his eyes. “Hey, Lane, let’s get something to eat. You hungry?”
Yeah, I’m hungry, alright, but not for toast and scrambled eggs.
As we turn around and leave, I feel Mason’s gaze lick up and down my body. I shudder at the weight of his attention, and my jeans feel uncomfortably tight as I follow Oliver into the house, away from Mason’s knowing smirk and the weight of his heated gaze.
Oliver and I spend the rest of the day cooped up in his room, making use of our double gaming setups. We have as much fun as we always have, completing quests and doing raids with online friends. We order a pizza for dinner that we devour while still in deep focus mode. Nothing can bring us down.
Except when a loud thump echoes downstairs.
Turns out the garage is directly below Oliver’s room, and who’s down there lifting weights and making a ruckus, disturbing our peace?
Yeah, that’s right—Mason.
“I’m gonna kill him before the end of summer,” Oliver grumbles. “Might do it right before I leave for college, so I won’t have to face the consequences.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I point out.
Sighing, I settle down on my temporary bed: the mattress in the middle of Oliver’s room.
It’s small, but not much smaller than my bed at Dad’s house.
When my ex-boyfriend Micah came over, we could barely fit on the same bed. Maybe that was why the sex was so bad.
Anyway, Oliver and I have already made a complete mess of his already messy room—littering every surface with cans, half-empty snack bags, and plates with the dried remnants of microwave meals.
There’s another loud bang from downstairs, and I picture Mason, shirtless, like he was this morning, lifting weights and being all smug and hot and infuriating, knowing full well how much he’s disturbing our peace and not caring one bit.
I wish it were just the noise that was disturbing, though. His mere presence in this house is a thorn in my side, a tension I can’t release without risking… something. I can’t put my finger on what just yet.
“Hey,” Oliver says. “I saw the way he looked at you this morning.”
I shrug in reply. It’s not my fault that Mason keeps flirting with me. It doesn’t mean I’m going to respond to anything he says. In fact, I should start telling him off.
“Be careful with him,” Oliver continues.
“Careful, how?”
“Just… don’t be in the same room with him if you can help it.”
“Why?” I ask warily. “What’s he going to do?”
Oliver groans and runs a hand over his face. “Just trust me, okay? You don’t want to get involved with him. He’ll chew you up and spit you out like it meant nothing.”
“Like what meant nothing?”
Oliver sends me a glare. “You know what I mean.”
“So he’s gay?”
Oliver shrugs. “Gay, bi, whatever—I don’t think it matters to him. He just likes to control people.”
That fire in my gut has been simmering like embers ever since that time in the kitchen, and now, Oliver’s words are making the logs spit white-hot sparks. “Control them how?”
“He…” Oliver gives a frustrated groan. “Just trust me, okay? He’ll ruin you if you let him.”
Ruin me.
The words echo in my head like a whisper of dark intrigue.
My ex never gave me what I wanted, but I couldn’t put my dissatisfaction into words.
Every time he touched me gently, I wanted him to bruise me.
Every time he brushed his fingers through my hair, I wanted him to rip my head back so hard I cried.
Every time he slid his dick inside me like I was going to break, I wanted him to do just that: break me.
But I couldn’t put into words what I wanted, so it was easier to just end it.
Then I watched this video.
This, uh… porn video.
Of an older man and a younger one. During a blowjob, the man ripped the young man off his cock and spat in his mouth. Fucked him hard, pulled his hair, threw him around like a rag doll…
I don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off to that video. Might be in the hundreds at this point.
Each time after I come, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me, but that hollow longing remains, and my mind keeps spinning on the idea of what it would be like to be treated like that boy in the video. Controlled. Dominated. Bruised and ruined.
Maybe one day, I’ll explore that part of me, but I can’t think of anyone more inappropriate for the purpose than my best friend’s older brother.
That’s exactly why it’s so intriguing, though: it’s dangerous.
The last thing I want is to jeopardize my friendship with Oliver.
Even though he’s going away in a couple of months, we’ll still keep in touch and game online, and we’ll see each other on holidays, even if it won’t be like before.
Oliver will be busy with everything in college, and I’ll be working full-time at my dad’s construction company.
The adult world is looming over me, and I’m not sure I’m ready.
It feels like my life is ending before it’s even begun.
Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to the idea of being degraded like that boy in the video. Maybe that’s why my mind is so fucked up and leading me into temptation with the one person I shouldn’t mess with.