21. Chapter Twenty-One
My heart pounds in my chest as I stare down at my phone, certain I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.
Cole wants me to suck his dick?
No fucking way.
This has to be a joke. Or a mistake. He must have meant to send that to someone else. There is no way he could actually want me to suck his dick. I mean, sure, I already did, but that was a one-time thing. I was sure he’d forgotten about it with the way he’s been acting toward me. And now? Right now? Here, in his house?
Chris is home. It’s Sunday morning!
I check the small bit of chat we have, needing to make sure it’s Cole. It definitely is. The login info for the website is right there.
Is this a test? Does Chris have his phone and is fucking with me to see if he can trust me? There’s no way he knows I have a crush on his dad. I’ve never spoken those words out loud. Not to a single person. Hell, I don’t even think them when I’m around Chris.
I don’t know what to do.
If this were anyone else, I’d be off my ass and in that room. But this is Cole Harper.
My best friend’s dad.
I can’t just suck his dick.
Again.
Can I?
Fuck it.
I tear the earbuds from my ears, snap my laptop closed, and get up. I am not going to waste this opportunity. Once in the hallway, I remember Chris is next door. I don’t know where Cole is. I glance over my shoulder at my phone that’s still on my bed.
I pick it up and text Cole back. My heart thundering the entire time.
Me: Where are you?
Cole: Patio
His quick response tells me he was staring at his phone. Waiting. He knows who he texted. Knows who he’s waiting for.
He really wants me to suck him off…
The excitement coursing through my veins? It’s what dreams are made of.
I drop my phone to the bed and move out of my room before I can change my mind.
This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Am I really doing this?
Fuck yes, I’m really doing this.
As I pass by his office door, a glance out his window tells me he’s exactly where he said. Lounging on a chair, sipping a beer.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and head outside through the side door. I step into the bright sunlight, my stomach fluttering. The second I turn the corner, his eyes are on me. His gaze heated, jaw set. He’s still pissed. I can see it in every inch of his body. The way he’s stiff and unmoving. I walk until I’m in front of him, then I stop and shove my hands in my pockets.
“You made it,” he says with no amount of emotion.
“I made it.”
“Wasn’t sure you’d come down.” He raises a brow, taking another swig.
“How much have you had to drink?” I question, parroting the one he asked me in the hotel.
He huffs out a laugh. “Not enough to cloud my judgment.”
“Is this some kind of test?” I question carefully.
“Do you want it to be? I can grade you, if you want.”
He reaches for the button of his jeans and flicks it open. I bite onto my bottom lip as I watch the motion. Cole undoes the zipper and brings his hand to rest on the arm of the chair. My chest is tight as I bring my gaze back up to meet his eyes. He’s smirking.
“You’ve thought about my cock in your mouth a lot since Astoria, haven’t you, Bryson?”
So he didn’t forget.
“Yes,” I croak out.
“Then what are you waiting for?” He finishes his beer, putting the can on the ground beside him.
I’ve never been so nervous to give a blow job in my entire life. Which is definitely because I’m sober. This was much easier when I was drunk.
It’s broad daylight. I don’t give a fuck about his neighbors, but what if Chris comes outside? What if he finds us? I glance toward the side of the house where the door is, and back at Cole.
Fuck it.
Just be confident, Bryson. You suck dick well. You’ve never had a complaint. Just relax and put his dick in your mouth.
I kneel onto the chaise lounge. Cole spreads his legs for me to fit. I tug open his jeans more, and pull down his underwear, allowing his thick cock to spring free.
Holy fuck.
It’s more beautiful than I remember.
It jerks as I stare at it, a small bead of pre-cum resting at the tip. I lean down to lick it up, the tip of my tongue dragging through the slit of his dick. Cole hisses, his cock bouncing.
I wrap my hand around him and stroke slowly as I suck the tip into my mouth, another bit of pre-cum exploding on my tongue. I missed the taste of him. Missed the way I feel when I’m teasing him. Fuck, I’ve missed this. I open my mouth wide and slide him down my throat until I can’t anymore, sucking as I pull him out.
He groans low, thrusting his hips up, wanting to go deeper.
“Fuck, that feels so damn good.” He sighs, resting his head back, his hand finding the back of my head. He guides me along his dick, slowing and quickening my movements as he wants. I allow him to take control and guide me how he wants. It’s his cock. He knows what he likes. I want to please him.
Use me as you see fit, Mr. Harper.
“I’ve missed your mouth, Bryson.”
Oh fuck. He has?
Cole’s breathing gets heavier.
“You going to let me come in your mouth like a good boy?”
Holy fucking shit, my dick is leaking.
I hum an “mhmm” and he groans longer and louder, thrusting his hips up.
“Swallow every last drop, Bryson. Take it all,” he growls.
He shoves my head down so hard my throat burns, and I can’t breathe. My dick throbs and I swear I’m going to come in my pants. Cole’s dick pulses in the back of my throat, his hot cum shooting down. I swallow and swallow and swallow.
When there’s no more, I release him with a pop, taking every last bit, and sit back on my knees to catch my breath. I drag my finger along my bottom lip to wipe up the drool and freeze when Cole and I lock eyes.
Did I really just fucking do that?
Panic shoots up my spine.
Why do I keep fucking everything up?
Why is it so hard to make one right decision?
I get off the chair and turn to run, the same way I did last night. Holy shit, apparently I can’t do this sober because the way I feel right now? It’s awful. Absolutely awful. I just sucked off my best friend’s father in their house. In their house. But Cole’s arm is around my waist and he’s whirling me toward him, tugging me to his chest.
“Don’t run from me, Bryson,” he whispers, holding me tight. “Please. Don’t run from me.”
My heart is thundering. I swear it’s going to burst from my chest and jump into his so he doesn’t feel so damn lonely. Because that’s what he is right now. He’s lonely and hurt. And I get it. I hate it for him. I’ve been there so many times and it sucks.
He holds me tighter, and my body relaxes. I don’t even have to try, it just relaxes in his arms.
This is awkward… right? This should be awkward.
But it’s not. It’s fucking perfect.
Cole is the only person who has ever made me feel safe and accepted. It’s no surprise it would be the same now.
“Cole,” I whisper back, not sure where I’m going with this. I don’t want him to let me go, but I know we shouldn’t be doing this.
He doesn’t respond, so I let it go. I stay here with him, letting him hold me, and breathe in his scent. Because it’s what he needs right now. He’s always been there for me, so this is the least I can do for him. Besides, being in his arms isn’t the worst place to be.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours.
Hours.
Every time I glance at the clock, another hour has passed. It’ll be light soon. Why can’t I sleep?
Too much adrenaline. My head is spinning.
What the hell did I do?
I’ve fantasized about Cole for years. Always looked up to him. Imagined what it would be like for someone like him to want someone like me. I’d thought what it would be like to taste his dick, to bend over for him and allow him inside me. To be on the end of his lustful gaze. Then I got it in Astoria, but it never seemed real. Which was the point. He was a businessman in a fancy suit. I was new to town. We were in a hotel. That was the thing. He even said it. It wasn’t supposed to feel real.
And maybe that’s why I so freely thought of it and enjoyed it. Or maybe it was the alcohol that made everything seem better.
Because even though sucking his dick, hearing him call me a good boy, praising me, and holding me made me feel amazing, I now feel like the lowest human being on earth.
What kind of person does this to their friend?
Chris is my best friend. Regardless of what he and his father are going through, why am I running to Cole instead of Chris? Texting Cole isn’t what I should have done. I should have gone to Chris.
Now, it’s three in the morning, and I’m lying here, unable to sleep because of this.
There are a hundred things I don’t know, and nothing I can do about it right now.
I roll over and force my eyes shut. I need to go to sleep.
My phone buzzes, and I make the mistake of opening my eyes to glance at it. From here, I see I’ve received a text.
Who the hell would text me at three am? I assume it’s Daniel but click to check it anyway.
Cole: Round two?
Fucking hell…
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling again, the text burned into my brain. My cock is already aching, so fucking hard from not getting relief earlier, but I refused to take care of it. It’s throbbing, pulling from my rational thoughts and not allowing me to think clearly. I know that. But I can’t stop myself. I don’t want to jerk off thinking about Cole, which is why I’ve been trying to ignore it. But now that he’s offering? Christ.
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting with myself over this. Over betraying my friend and doing something to make myself feel good. Something I’ve never had in my life. It’s hard to let it go when it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just to feel good.
Is there any chance Chris would understand? That he would be okay with this, as long as he knew it made me happy? I can’t put myself in his shoes because I hate my father. So yeah, I’d hate him for doing this. But that’s because my father is a piece of shit human being.
Cole deserves someone to take care of him, to be there for him. I could give him that.
Wouldn’t Chris want us both to be happy, even if it meant us together? And I don’t mean in a relationship, because that’s seriously pushing it. But even just to mess around? Something for fun?
I huff out a sigh, knowing I’m already going to hell for this shit, so I may as well go out with a bang. As long as Chris doesn’t find out, this won’t be a problem. I can have something good for myself, even if it’s for a short amount of time. It can’t hurt Chris if he doesn’t know. All that matters is not hurting him. So, I have to make sure he doesn’t find out.
Way to make that work in your favor, Bryson.
I throw the blankets off me, but instead of going to Cole, I snap a picture of my hard dick and send it to him.
He’s so quiet, I don’t hear his feet on the floor. The only thing letting me know he’s here is the door opening. He closes it gently, walks to the side of the bed, and stares down at me. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, his dick at half-mast. I can tell he doesn’t have anything underneath them. I lick my lips as I look up at him, taking in the ridges in his abs and the cuts in his arms.
Fuck, Cole Harper is a masterpiece.
“Let me take care of that for you,” he rasps in a low voice.
When I don’t respond, he kneels on the bed and grips my dick through my pants.
“You’re so hard,” he whispers.
My fingers dig into the bed, gripping the mattress and begging my body not to betray me and come right this second. How fucking embarrassing would that be?
“I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself earlier,” he adds, slowly gliding his hand up and down my shaft.
“Wh-why?” I manage to ask.
He looks at me and smirks, causing my dick to throb. “Because you weren’t hard.”
I was hard. So fucking hard. But when the realization of what happened took over, it deflated faster than a popped balloon.
“Reality will do that to you.”
“We’re adults, Bryson. We can do what the fuck we want.”
Yes, but not without repercussions. Like losing the only person in the world who cares about me. My best friend.
Hey, a bucket of ice water over my head. Just what I ordered.
I grab Cole’s wrist and stop him from rubbing me. “What are we doing, Cole?”
“I’m trying to get you off,” he says with a smirk.
“You know what I mean.”
He pulls his hand away and sits up straighter. “If you don’t want to do this, you can say no.”
He sounds annoyed, but thankfully his voice is still low enough that Chris shouldn’t be able to hear us if he’s awake.
I sit up too, my cock still so hard. It’s difficult to think clearly with it aching so fucking badly. I’m not used to dealing with this. It’s never been a problem for me before. But Cole… he makes me crazy.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I just… Chris is my best friend.”
“And he’s my son,” he adds firmly.
“Exactly.”
“Why does it matter?” he asks, frowning.
“Because he’ll be pissed.”
This is what happens when you spend hours over-thinking things. Your conscience comes back.
“He has no reason to be. What I do is none of his damn business.”
“Are you doing this just to get back at him?”
Cole rears his head back, his jaw dropping open.
“Why the fuck would you think that?”
Okay, so that pissed him off. Great. I should have waited until he made me come first. Does my brain work at all?
“You have no reason to do this. With me. I’m—”
“You’re what?” he whisper-shouts, getting to his feet and gesturing at me. “You better not say something negative about yourself. Tell me you aren’t good enough or some stupid shit like that. Because honestly, Bryson, I’m tired of hearing it. How do you not see how amazing you are? Do I not tell you enough?”
A choked sound comes out of me as I try to find words. “What? You do. It’s just—”
I’m not sure what to say to that. He tells me all the time. He’s the only one who does—who ever has. The only person who keeps my head above water. Without him, I’d drown.
“It’s hard to believe after dealing with my father for so long, is all. I’m just me, and you’re—” I gesture up and down his body. “Cole Harper.”
Cole shakes his head, watching me for a long moment.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” he mutters before quickly leaving my room.
I stare out the door for a long fucking time, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.