Chapter Eight #2
“I don’t have practice after school on Monday. So then? He can just follow us home.” I nod my head, closing my eyes and soaking in the feel of his fingertips, the warmth of his thighs, the familiar scent of his laundry soap. At the end of the day, I still have Felix, so I’ll survive.
◆◆◆
Around six in the afternoon, long after Felix has left and I’ve played a few games on the Xbox; I finally get around to calling Drew—who exchanged numbers with me before I left our last practice. The phone only rings twice before he answers.
“Hello?” Drew sounds a bit startled by my call.
“Hey man, it’s Benjamin. Is now a bad time?” Rustling on the other end.
“No! No, not at all. What’s up?” His voice is eager and breathy, which makes me laugh a little.
“Well, Felix and I wanted to ask if you want to come over after school Monday and swim?” I bite the end of my thumb, suddenly afraid of the rejection. Not that this random guy from my swim team is that important to me. But still.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Should we discuss details on the day of?”
“Yeah, that works for us.” There's a moment of silence as I head toward the bedroom door, but before I can say goodbye, he speaks again.
“So, did you have a good Friday?” I’m grasping the handle and pulling it open, on my way downstairs for a drink, as he asks. The absurdity of the question—the timing—pulls from me a very loud, very genuine laugh. As I walk out of the room I say,
“Drew, you have no idea. Top secret.” Drew responds to my laugh with his own, but I don’t hear whatever he says next as I stop short. Standing directly in my path is Aaron. His eyes are narrowed, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, black hair curling around his forehead.
Surprisingly, Amber isn’t with him, and he looks like I just kicked his birthday cake and then pissed on it. He tilts his head—a silent question I don’t understand.
“Drew, I’m sorry, something's come up. But plan on being busy Monday afternoon, okay?” I hang up before he responds, sliding my phone into the pocket of my athletic shorts.
We stare at each other in a very uncomfortable silence.
Aaron looks me over, top to bottom, his eyes snagging on the large bandage I now have taped over the indentations of his teeth.
Where he marked me. My hands twitch and I realize I never marked him.
He got to run away without a single scratch, nothing to prove that I touched him at all.
He is the king of playing pretend, after all.
“Aaron.” I say—my greeting is bland. His eyes shoot back to meet mine, calculating, analyzing. He clenches his jaw, hand tightening around the apple in his palm. My mind reels, taking me back to the bathroom only so many hours ago.
“Button, when you go downstairs to the kitchen and take a bite of an apple—does it become yours?”
My throat works, swallowing loudly. Is he thinking about it too? He shakes his head ever so slightly, looks away from me and walks past me without a word. As soon as his bedroom door slams shut, I take in a deep breath.
“Tell me how it’s any different—when I tore your virgin body apart and put you back together with my own two fucking hands.
When I ran my tongue over every part of you—body and soul.
Hm? How is it that now your body is none of my business?
I had you first, Button. I think anything you do—anywhere you go until the day you fucking die—is my business. ”
My body is so fucking hot—his voice a caress in my ear, reminding me of what he’s capable of, capable of pulling out of me.
I have never orgasmed like that before. I didn’t have a single thought—I was only sensation; I was only the feeling of his fingers in me and the words he spoke as he milked my prostate.
I wanted to worship him as my body fragmented apart.
I wanted to tell him what he was doing to me, why I was screaming, to beg him to never touch anyone else like this—only me.
But I couldn’t even figure out what I should grab onto to keep myself from losing consciousness.
And when I finished shooting come all over myself and I thought I would be free of the unholy sensation, it just kept fucking going.
I cried for Aaron, for him to tell me what was happening to my body, to make it stop and to keep fucking going—but I couldn’t talk, couldn’t ask.
So instead, he rubbed his fingers in me and looked down on me like he’d never seen something so fascinating, so beautiful in his entire life.
And now, I have to relive that moment—that earth-shattering submission—while he slams his door in my face. Fuck. That.
I turn on my heel and before I can think better of it, I bang my fist on the door.
“Hey! Asshole, open up.” Silence. Not even the shuffling of feet on the other side. Did the motherfucker sneak out the window? “I know you’re in there, Aaron—stop acting like a brat.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m concerned I might miss a movement inside. Frustrated, I go back into Felix’s room, through the bathroom, and into Aaron’s. For someone so smart, he is quite stupid.
Aaron’s sitting on his bed, back to the headboard, legs drawn up. A book balances on his knees, but it's closed, his hands cradled in his lap. His head whips toward me.
“How—”
“Should have locked both doors if you wanted to hide.” I’m glaring, trembling slightly with rage and how every inch of my body remembers him, is reaching for him.
“Or you could take a hint?” He asks, raising a brow. I grab the closest thing to me—a pen on his desk—and throw it straight at his head. Bingo. “Dude!”
“Stop treating me like some dumb sorority girl who won’t leave you alone after a fuck.” I demand. My jaw clenches as I watch him stare at me, placing the murder pen beside himself on the bed.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Another pen straight to the dome.
“Benjamin!” Yet another leaves my hand before he can even get my full name out.
I’m grabbing the last pen when he jumps up from his bed.
I yell, running to the opposite side of the room and as far away from his murderous glare as possible.
I’m in front of his bedroom door now, him taking my spot by the one that belongs to the bathroom.
“I don’t understand.” I say, my hand still poised to throw the last pen. I watch him shake. “At least the last time this happened you still spoke to me afterward, didn’t ignore my calls.” Guilt flashes across Aaron's face, quickly replaced with a blank stare as he looks away.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Benjamin.”
“Am I? Is that why you’re acting so normal and chill about everything, Aaron? Because from where I’m standing, you’re a scared little boy, hiding from me in his bedroom.”
Aaron lunges. I start to jump onto his bed to create distance when he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back down and pressing my back against him.
“Scared little boy, huh?” He throws me down onto his bed. I flip around to face him, attempting to sit up only for his foot to pin me to the comforter, my knees hanging over the edge. I glare up at him.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I see.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just don’t want to see you?
” My breathing stops, eyes widening. What?
The air from his fan blows against my skin where my shirt has ridden up, my hand wrapped around his ankle.
I try my best to keep my eyes from watering, will my breathing to be even so he doesn’t notice how much that ripped me apart.
I wish he would look away for a moment—I wish I could itch.
My wrist aches, begging. Like it knows its time has come.
“No,” I whisper. “I guess I haven’t.” Aaron’s eyes soften a fraction, his jaw once again clenching so hard I swear I can hear it.
“Yeah.” Is all he says. He looks away from me—his foot no longer pushes me down, just rests on my chest.
I’m trying to make sense of this new tension between us, trying to understand him, trying to make it quiet.
There’s no way he doesn’t want to see me.
Not after all of these years. Or… did last night, how far we went, how much I pushed and how frantic I acted—did that destroy it all?
Was that enough for Aaron to want to never see me again?
The memory of his voice caresses me, almost like a comfort.
“Don’t say these things to anyone else. Don’t speak to anyone else in that voice—the one that sounds like you’ll die if I don’t put my dick in you and fuck you within an inch of your life.”
No, there's no way. There’s no way he doesn't want to see me again. He’s trying to get me to leave, to give up.
“Are you trying to hurt me?” Aaron’s head snaps back toward me, green eyes wide. “Because if you are, it’s working.” His foot drops away from me and I slowly sit up, staring up at him as calmly as I can manage.
“Button, I… I don’t want to hurt you.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Then what are you trying to do here? Because this sure as hell isn’t you not wanting to see me.” He gives me a stern look, as if to say you couldn’t just leave it well enough alone, could you?
“Listen to me.” He gets on his knees, settling between my legs on the floor. My heart quickens, my palms moistening. “I don’t know any other way to handle this situation other than to avoid you.”
The brutal honesty makes my chest ache as I stare down into his eyes. I can read them, for the first time I can read them with certainty. He’s scared—and he’s hurting—and he’s affectionate. His hands move to rest on my thighs in the world's hardest test of concentration.
“What do you mean?” He sighs, head drooping. After a moment he lifts his gaze to stare at my chest.
“I can’t… I can’t deny you, Benjamin—all I can do is run away when the damage is done. I’m a coward.” Shakily, I take a breath and place a hand on his cheek. He closes his eyes, brows furrowing.
“What?” I whisper.
“If you ask me to touch you, if you beg me to take you apart again, I won’t be able to say no—to resist the temptation.
” His eyes lift to mine. “You know that right? When I’m touching you, you beg and bend to my will.
But there is never a moment where I am not at your mercy.
Simple as that.” Something hot and cruel ignites in my body.
I can feel my cock hardening. And with that tremendous power he has over me, he turns off the noise.
Watching Aaron Archer on his knees in front of me, speaking to me like he’s confessing. It’s too soon after our last encounter. I can still feel his tongue on me. I think I’m dying.
I take a deep, shaky breath.
“Aaron, if you thought telling me that was going to convince me to leave this room, you’re dumber than I thought.” His forehead drops to my thigh.
“Benjamin, please. We can’t be doing any of this—we both know it. Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you spare me?” I scoff, running a hand through his soft black curls.
“Me? Spare you? I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you there—a deity pulling offerings from my body like I’m a fucking shrine made just for you.
” I feel his hand tighten on my thigh. “I hear your voice. I hear you praise me, I feel you take what you want from me like it has always belonged to you, replacing each piece with something addictive.” Just when I think I might have said a bit too much, maybe got a bit too poetic, Aaron lifts his head.
His face pained, a few tears slipping free from his eyes.
I slide off the bed, straddling his thighs as he sits back on his heels, holding his face in my hands. He places his hands over mine.
“You’re so beautiful.” He mutters, eyes cast down like he’s embarrassed by this whole thing. I take a deep breath, pulling his forehead down to meet mine.
“I was made to be touched by you.” I say, breathing in his low groan.
“I fit so perfectly in your hands.” I feel his dick getting harder and harder.
“Whenever I see you, my body is no longer mine, fighting its way to you.” Aaron's hands drop down to my hips, dragging them forward to rub our hard, clothed erections together. “Ahhh.” I moan—Aaron’s panting against my hair.
“What do you want from me?” He pleads, setting a brutally slow pace as he rolls my hips over his.
“I… I want you to be my God and take what you want from me.”