Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bennett
Rhodes makes such wonderful sounds when I fuck him like a demon riding the human he possesses. I’m pretty sure the grunts and gurgles he makes sound like he’s possessed. I grin at the thought.
“Come on, Rhodes,” I coo as I lean forward and grip a handful of his hair tightly. His body spasms beneath me. “I know you can howl like the precious babies filling the dorm. Only good boys who howl like their packs get to come on my dick. You can howl for me, can’t you?”
He woke up a little grumpy this morning, but I’m pretty sure I can fuck a good mood into him. I’m sure as sunshine going to try.
With my hand between his shoulders, I shove him deeper into the mattress and tug harshly on his hair. At this angle, and with the purchase I have on him, I can truly let go and fuck him like a bucking bronco.
So I do.
“That’s better. You’re getting there, Rhodes. Come on. Sing for me,” I grunt. “You have such a wonderfully tight hole. You like that? Like my dick forcing you wide open for me?”
That’s it. Now he’s howling like a banshee. Not quite the right pitch to sing with the pack, but it’ll do. He is howling, after all. I’m going to take that as a win.
“Such a good man,” I hiss as I adjust angles to reach the point he likes. “Guys who listen get orgasms. I promised orgasms this weekend, didn’t I?”
Rhodes’ howls stutter as he comes. His body shudders and jerks. But it’s the way his ass clenches around my cock that has my eyes rolling and my hips breaking rhythm. God, he feels like the suffocation of an angelic glow.
I try my best to wait until he’s finished before bearing down on him and fucking his limp body with mindless abandon until I fill the condom. Perfection. Best sex ever, right here.
Sweat drips down my nose, and I grin as it falls onto Rhodes’ skin. Pretty boy. Covered in my sweat. I love everything about this.
Still panting, I pull back and let him collapse onto the bed like a limp noodle. I mean to back away, but I kneel between his legs and pull his cheeks apart to look at that perfectly used hole. “So sexy, Rhodes,” I hum. “I could write sonnets about you. Maybe I will.”
He grunts, though I can barely hear the muffled sound. Grinning, I lean down to bite his ass cheek. Rhodes is so worn out that he barely flinches when my teeth sink into his skin. “Sexy, sexy man.”
Slapping his ass, I get up. “Your daddy sings pretty, doesn’t he?” I ask Sugar, who’s lying like a sphinx as he watches us.
I pat his head on the way by. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to start the shower, and then I’ll be back for him.”
My bare feet flap on the hard floor as I move through the dorm.
I’m a little bummed that we’re leaving today.
It’s not just the sex—that’s certainly epic enough to write home about—but I’ve enjoyed Rhodes as a gremlin of a man.
It’s truly something special when I manage to get him to smile.
It feels so big and important that my chest heats up.
I also like his friends. I’m not sure he realized he had friends, but it’s been nice to see him enjoy their company. Watching him get comfortable with them gives me the distinct feeling that I’m seeing something rare. Rhodes is friendly and loving with his sweet pack of babies, but others?
He’s more than a closed book. He might as well be a mythical vault that may or may not exist.
Once the shower is on, I begin humming, though the song in my head is already inherently dirty. I love when songs are actually about buttholes, and how good riding a dick is. They’ve got the catchiest tunes.
I’m still humming when I head back into the bedroom. Rhodes is right where I left him, having not moved in the slightest. I beam. Such a great accomplishment!
“Time for my big grumpy bear to get clean,” I singsong as I lean over the bed.
“You weren’t just railed. Easy for you to say,” he grumbles.
Chuckling, I coax him up, though he scowls at me the entire time.
“Come on, princess,” I coo, earning myself a hard glare.
I’m confident that Schnookums laughs and covers it with a sneeze.
Rhodes thinks so too, since he turns that glare on his baby, and said baby looks away as if he doesn’t see Rhodes at all.
I have him in the shower before long. This man enjoys being pampered nearly as much as he likes being fucked. One makes him join in the chorus of his precious dogs. The other makes him purr like the prey his dogs hunt.
We take a long shower. I like to think that neither of us is in a hurry to leave since we both know that once we leave the shower, this weekend is practically over. There’s goodbye brunch and then a bunch of travel.
Not that I expected anything else. We met with one thing in mind. We came together through the Heart2Heart app specifically for a single date. Then we go our separate ways. That’s okay. Life goes on. We’ll both have a boarding school in Canada to remember.
I try extra hard to keep a smile on my face as we gather our belongings to head downstairs. My smile feels painted on my face. It’s still genuine, of course, but maybe the genuineness is forced. That’s a thing, isn’t it?
There’s a strange vibration in the solarium where we’re gathering for brunch when we come downstairs. As we walk through the tables, I note that there are a lot of heads leaning together as they whisper.
It feels distinctly high school. Appropriate, I suppose.
I glance at Rhodes, wondering if maybe I’m just imagining the strange vibe. Perhaps everyone is a little bummed because we’re all leaving in a couple hours. He’s looking around, frowning. At least he feels it too.
We join the couples we’ve been eating with at a table beside a wall of windows overlooking the courtyard. The pups immediately make their rounds to say hello with wagging tails and lolling tongues. I feel very proud that even Bobby has warmed up a bit to the pack.
As soon as we sit, the pups are brought trays of food by a couple of different servers. We’ve heard them arguing about who gets to bring them food since yesterday morning. Probably because the pups sneak in kisses when they crouch down to set their food out.
I grin, unable to help myself. Should I feel such pride? They’re not mine, after all.
“What’s going on?” Rhodes asks, eyeing a small group of their classmates as they gather in the doorway.
“Dunno. I guess the Fucked-Up-Four went out for drinks last night and haven’t come back,” Sara says, shrugging.
“And…?”
Thornton shakes his head. “That’s it. I don’t know why there’s so much commotion over it. Crump’s wife is all teary. Fox’s wife looks relieved.”
“It’s a little weird,” Rosemary agrees, “but I don’t know why it’s garnered such interest.”
“Everyone wants to know what those assholes are up to,” Rhodes notes.
As if to prove that we don’t care what the assholes are up to, we turn our attention to breakfast. Conversation turns to life, and I’m happy to watch as Rhodes does more than just listen this morning.
He talks about Van Doren Technologies and how it relates to this new wave of combatting the silencing of actual news that’s being replaced with disinformation.
He and Bethany go on a rant about it for quite some time.
When we’re wrapping up breakfast and exchanging numbers to keep in touch, silence falls over the solarium as women shrieking in the distance echoes off the walls.
All seven dogs get to their feet and make a barrier between our table and the rest of the room, ears up, tails down.
I’m not na?ve enough to think they’re protecting anyone other than Rhodes, but it’s impressive to see.
The wives of the missing drunk men come into the room wailing that their husbands are dead. There’s a moment of everyone talking over each other, so we don’t actually hear anything more than that for quite some time.
The eleven of us watch the moment unfold as we wait for actual events to reach us instead of speculation and rumor. We’re not the only table doing this. Maybe half. The other half is in fear mode, as if there’s a killer on the loose.
Just as I’m wondering if there actually is a killer on the loose, the rumor mill halts, and news that the four men were found in the stables, hanged from the rafters, makes me rest easier.
“Are we really this up in arms because four bad, drunk men hung themselves?” Dianna asks, frowning as we watch the room respond. Most are sitting at the tables as we are, somewhat blank-faced, mostly uninterested, kinda curious as we watch the wives.
Which is perhaps most telling of all. Three are crying, sobbing, carrying on. One looks… relieved.
We end up leaving the school two hours later than planned.
The police dealt with a whole lot of pissed off people who missed flights because of their questioning of what was obviously suicide.
I found it amusing when there were people pointing at the pack, as if they somehow got them into nooses. Okay, Karen. Carry on with your logic.
More curious was the fact that the entire campus’ security cameras were down. All of them. For maintenance. As they’re down every single summer for software updates and shit.
Rhodes rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t take an entire summer to update software.”
Apparently, that’s been the routine for the past thirty years. Every summer, all the computer systems are shut down while every single platform gets updated. I mean, okay. School isn’t in session. I get it.
But really?
We’re silent as we drive back to Rhodes’ house. I’m not sure if I’m thinking about the suicides of a group of men the entire school remembers as awful bullies, or if I’m perhaps in avoidance mode because once we pull into his driveway and I climb into my car, I’ll never see Rhodes again.
No matter how much I reason that this was the arrangement, that this is what we agreed on. I can’t shake the feeling of a whiny toddler in my head, throwing a fit on the floor screaming, ‘But I don’t want to leave.’
I don’t have a reason to prolong it, though. So when we get out of the truck and I have my suitcase and backpack from the back, I wave awkwardly and head to my car to dump them into the trunk. Oh. I need to say goodbye to the babies.
Turning around, I stop short when I come face-to-face with Floofy Pants and Velvet. I have a distinct impression that they’re looking at me expectantly. We stare at each other until I finally sag. They won. Whatever the competition was, they won.
“Okay, fine. I’ll shoot my shot, but it’s your fault if I’m laughed at,” I mutter as I straighten my shoulders and walk back around my car. I stomp my way back to Rhodes, who’s standing all regally and shit with his hand in his pocket and the other scratching behind Sugar’s ear.
“Listen,” I say. “This isn’t over, understand?
You clearly need help with the pack, and it would be irresponsible and mean if I just abandoned you when you’re struggling.
Also, we really need to work on your pitch in bed so you don’t embarrass the babies on road trips when you sing along. So… I’m not leaving, Rhodes.”
He stares at me unmoving, the corner of his lip quirks up with the hint of an amused smile.
“Also, it’s been a traumatic twelve hours. I should be here for you to come to terms with what happened before we left,” I add, crossing my arms. “And if you need more evidence, Velvet says you don’t smile enough. I can help with that.”
Rhodes looks at Velvet, and I think Velvet actually nods his head in agreement. Such smart babies!
I’m still watching Velvet when I’m startled by Rhodes’ fingers on my chin. He turns my attention to him. “It’s a good thing you figured out who you belong to before driving away. Otherwise, I was going to have to show you how good my pack is at hunting my prey.”
“It’s cute you think I’m the prey,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I distinctly recall how lifeless you were this morning when I was finished with you.”
He chuckles. “You’re confusing an orgasm coma with being prey. Don’t worry, sweet cottontail, we have plenty of time to teach you the difference.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face to his. His smile doesn’t stretch wide like mine, but it’s still there. And I put it there. I love everything about that.
“I suppose we both have a lot to teach each other.”
“I guess we should start now.” Several of the babies yap and growl their disagreement. Rhodes sighs. “After we play with the pack.”
Sounds good to me!