18. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
T he entire car ride home, Lex stayed utterly silent. He kept his head turned toward the window, the faint reflection of his narrowed eyes just visible in the glass.
Kate’s voice filled the space instead, rambling on about how much fun she’d had, how much she’d enjoyed the event. The people. The silent auction. Morgan tuned most of it out, his attention flickering back to Lex before he could help it. The silence was unusual—yes—but it was the tension radiating off of him that dug into Morgan’s skin.
When they finally reached the house, Lex was up and out of the car before the chauffeur had a chance to open the door.
Kate’s hand on Morgan’s knee stopped him from moving. “Can I ask what you two talked about? He’s been acting off ever since.”
There wasn’t a whole lot of talking that had gone on in the coat room.
“I don’t know, Kate, can you?”
“I… I’m sorry, it’s been a long night. May I ask—”
“It’s really none of your business either way.”
Kate snapped her neck back as if he’d slapped her. Maybe he had spoken too harshly, but he was in no mood to coddle her.
Morgan dragged a hand over his face, grinding his fingertips into his eyes. She was right about one thing: it had been a very, very long night.
“What I meant,” he continued, softening the edges, “is that work talk would bore you. You don’t need to worry yourself about it. I’m sure he’s as tired as the rest of us.”
Perhaps he’d been too severe all around lately. Kate sounded more nervous than usual, and Lex’s behavior wasn’t something Morgan enjoyed dealing with, either. A little reprieve would do all of them good.
And he knew just the thing.
Morgan had no clue how long he had been knocking on the bedroom door.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Lex didn’t deserve a reward—maybe he needed a leash after all.
Just as his patience began to thin, the door flew open. Lex stood in the frame, his vest unbuttoned, shirt untucked, and hair a disheveled mess. Hapless as ever—though there was a fraying that hadn’t been there before.
The shift in Lex’s eyes, unable to meet his own.
He looked ashamed.
“I’m coming inside, so I suggest you move,” Morgan said before Lex could argue.
The height difference was negligible—two inches at most—but it never failed to irritate Morgan. And now, after seeing what was written all over his little brother’s face, the familiar itch to shatter his kneecaps resurfaced.
Stepping aside with a huff, Lex didn’t even bother to shut the door behind him. He turned away, stripping off the rest of the three-piece suit like he couldn’t get it off fast enough. The jacket hit the chair first, followed by the vest, then the tie.
Morgan shut the door for him. He twisted the knob to right until he heard the telltale catch, the odd sound he’d figured out years ago. Locks could be picked or broken, unlocked from the inside. But this? It was staying shut until he opened it again.
His bed was less comfortable than the last time he had been in here. Less supportive, less forgiving. Perhaps it wasn’t the bed at all that was comfortable.
Perhaps it was just Lex’s body underneath his .
Glancing over his shoulder, Lex sighed. “What are you—” he started, with that pathetic, beat-down look on his face, and Morgan couldn’t stand it.
Morgan pointed to the bed. “Sit.”
“Not tonight, Morgan. Seriously. Can’t you—”
“ Sit ,” Morgan repeated, more firm the second time. “Or I’ll forget about my highly amusing idea and go with my initial plan instead.”
Lex’s expression wavered. It took longer than Morgan would have liked, and he had to sit there, watching every emotion fly across the tan face like a slideshow. Hesitation. Nervousness. Irritation. Finally, Lex sat down.
Morgan slid his hand down the wall next to the bed, feeling around for the baseboard with the give in it. He pushed, and it flipped open.
The black bag was right where he’d left it.
Dragging it back, he dumped the contents onto the bed: a hunting knife, a miniature wand vibrator, and an array of piercing needles in various gauges; he couldn’t quite remember where the case had gone.
“Well that’s fucking concerning,” Lex grumbled. He pulled his knees up, stuffing the pillow into the gap between his chest and legs. “The hell did that come from anyway?”
Settling against the wall, Morgan lifted his shoulder. “You don’t know all of my secrets. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
The pause was for two reasons. Dramatic effect—pure theater. He also needed a moment to drown out the rage boiling in his chest.
Shame was a disgusting emotion. The most useless of them all .
“We are going to play truth or dare, but with a little catch,” he finished.
“Uh-huh… and what’s the catch?”
“If you’re not entertaining—if you don’t play the game correctly— I’m going to go with my initial plan.”
Lex narrowed his eyes, biting down on his lower lip. He was obviously trying to gauge Morgan’s intentions, but Morgan wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
Not when they both knew where those lips were less than four hours ago.
Morgan kept his face neutral. Simply waiting.
After another excruciating moment, Lex spoke.
“We’re both playing, right? Equally? No other hidden agendas I gotta worry about?”
“I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth,” Morgan said, rolling his hand lazily to finish the sentence without actually saying it.
The speed at which Lex’s face brightened was both laughable and horrifying. He tossed the pillow to the floor, turning to face Morgan with unguarded enthusiasm.
At least Morgan didn’t have to picture that expression anymore.
“You go first, little brother.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare, I suppose.”
Lex’s grin was the kind that screamed pure trouble—chaos wrapped in reckless packaging. “Say my fucking name .”
Morgan didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. As boring of a request as it was, the audacity was grating .
Names, after all, were more than sounds or letters strewn together. Names had weight. Names made people worth more than the flesh and blood bags they inhabited. It lasted long after they died, etched into tombstones for the future to witness. Demanding his was an insult.
But…
“You picked dare, Morgan ,” Lex said. He leaned forward, his eyes glittering with that same smugness from earlier in the night. “You don’t get to back out now.”
Meeting him halfway in the space between, Morgan didn’t miss the flush already creeping across Lex’s face.
“Did you come with my cock in your mouth, Lex?” Morgan asked softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of pale hair back. “Were you touching yourself? Getting off to the fact that no one could see the filthy things your tongue was doing to me? Tell me how much you enjoyed it, Lex .”
Lex’s grin faltered for a split second, his shoulders tensing before he pulled away.
“It’s not your turn, Morgan. Don’t do that,” he mumbled as he shook his hair back into place. “I want truth.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve done to someone and enjoyed?”
Whatever excitement or embarrassment Lex had been clinging to evaporated, wiped clean from his face like it never existed. His eyes shifted from left to right, clearly scrambling for something.
Good.
“What’s the dare?” he asked instead.
“You don’t get to back out now, remember? ”
Lex reached for the pillow on the ground and pulled it back into his lap. “I was dating this girl—let’s call her Molly—and she asked me to take her home from the bar. She was… drunk, almost asleep as soon as she hit the bed.” He licked his lips, his gaze jumping to the comforter. “I was trying to be nice, y’know, taking her shoes off, and stuff. But it just… it went so much farther.”
That’s quite the revelation.
Morgan raised his eyebrows, watching the renewed heat spreading across Lex’s face and ears. “You raped her while she was sleeping?”
“Can you not phrase it—”
“There’s no ‘phrasing,’ little brother. The lack of consent doesn’t leave room for any other explanation.” Morgan ate up the uncomfortable movements. The nerves. “You enjoyed it? Why? Because she couldn’t fight back?”
“This isn’t fucking twenty questions, alright?” Lex snapped. “You’ve done it twice now. Drop it . Truth or dare.”
Lex had so many tantalizing secrets, didn’t he? So many wonderful things to uncover, one by one.
The brutal honesty was terribly attractive.
Morgan licked his lips, dragging his eyes away from Lex’s mouth. “Truth.”
“What scares you the most about me?”
“Pick a different point, would you? You already played that card—”
“Then answer me already. I know I scare you, Morgan,” Lex cut in, finally looking up from the pillow. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t keep doing all this. The cabin. The gala. Now. ”
Promising the truth may have been one of Morgan’s least brilliant ideas to date, but games had rules for a reason. He ran his tongue against his bottom teeth, picking through the words carefully before answering.
“The fact that I gravitate toward you.”
Lex’s lips parted and a new strange look washed over his face. It wasn’t satisfied or defeated. It was something in between, something unfamiliar that Morgan didn’t know if he liked.
He didn’t want to wager a guess what was going through Lex’s mind.
“D-dare,” Lex stammered out after a couple minutes, shaking his head. “Dare. Fuck your questions.”
Morgan straightened up, patting the space near the collection of items on the bed. “Pick one I get to use on you.”
“What?”
“You heard me, loud and clear. Pick. One.”
It should’ve been an easy answer. The knife—jagged and perfectly cruel—promised a very specific brand of pain. The needles offered precise control. That left the vibrator.
Morgan bit down on the smirk. That’s the one Lex was avoiding, based on how his eyes were flicking between them.
Teasing him was almost too easy.
“I like the needles if you’re struggling,” Morgan said, pressing down on each of his knuckles until they cracked.
“I don’t like pain .”
Morgan let the silence continue, watching Lex’s finger point toward the vibrator.
“Good choice. ”
When Morgan spread his legs, he didn’t need to ask or even motion for Lex to sit there—it was automatic.
The weight of Lex’s back pressing into his chest was… different. Morgan could feel every tense movement, every uneven breath. He could see the sweat pooling in the space of Lex’s clavicle when he looked down, damp and sticky.
He traced the top of Lex’s thigh, where he knew the mark was. The solid muscle beneath his fingers bunched—taut—unwilling to relax, but he didn’t stop.
That was when the thoughts started. Unbidden, insistent.
How would Lex feel when gray replaced the warm, tan skin? When the muscle became rigid and unmoving? Flesh firm and unyielding, molded under his grip but not alive.
When that rapid vein fluttering in Lex’s neck stopped pulsing?
How he’d desecrate Lex’s pretty, lifeless body when that need finally became too much to control.
Morgan shivered, forcing himself not to dwell on the vivid images that clawed their way to the front of his mind. It had never turned him on before—not once. Not even when he’d run his tongue across every square inch of his last victim, desperate to capture the last, fleeting moment of their delicate life.
This was the last thing he needed.
“Morgan,” Lex hissed. He turned his head, blue eyes burning a hole through him. “Earth to Morgan. Wake up.”
Morgan would keep the eyes in a jar. Definitely. At least one as a trophy. The other would probably taste like jellied egg.
“What hurry are you possibly in? Are you planning on running away again? ”
If Lex’s face turned any redder, it might as well have been purple. “I—I… no . Jesus, just do what you have to so I can move .”
“You’re ruining all of my fun.”
Picking up the vibrator, Morgan pressed the on button. As expected, it remained lifeless. Not even a faint, dying hum. “The batteries are four years old,” he said as he dropped it back onto the bed. “It was the only correct choice.”
Lex’s jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing into slits. And yet, despite the obvious anger, he stayed still. If anything—based on the way he was shifting—it felt like Lex was getting more comfortable.
“Truth or dare, Morgan.”
“Truth.”
“What do you think about when you hurt me?”
It would’ve been easier to say nothing. To leave it alone and let Lex’s imagination simmer and create a more grotesque, monstrous version by himself.
“That you’re a perfect canvas.”
Five words. He wasn’t about to offer Lex more than what was asked, and he certainly wasn’t going to start lying now.
He could’ve easily rambled on forever about the texture of Lex’s skin, bruising and puckering under just the right pressure. The sharp tang of his blood, lingering on his tongue hours after. The beauty of tears rolling down his face. How every design looked stunning in its raw form, but healed even nicer.
It also healed too fast for Morgan’s liking.
Every bit of it went through his head and none of it was helping.
“And after?” Lex asked, quieter now .
The fact that I want to peel your flesh from your bones and frame it? Or the fact that I to want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name?
Morgan settled on repeating the same phrase back.
“It’s not twenty questions, remember?”
Lex’s head fell back against Morgan’s shoulder, lashes too pale against his skin. “Who is he? The guy at the gala. Jake, or whatever.”
Of all the things to bring up. Of all the times to bring it up. Lex truly had a knack for ruining the moment.
“No one.”
“That’s a bunch of shit—”
“Answer any one of mine and I’ll answer yours,” Morgan interrupted before he could help himself.
Lex raised his eyes, too clear and bright when they met Morgan’s. “This game really isn’t fair, is it? I’m done playing.”
“Which game?”
“The one that feels like it’s fucking rigged.”
Disappointed coated Morgan’s tongue, sitting heavy and rancid in his stomach when he swallowed.
Nothing about this was supposed to be fair. Every moved they made, every glance they traded, it always favored one direction or the other.
Tonight though? Their points were even.