Chapter 7
“But where are we going?” Emily asked, pulling at Shawn’s hand.
“Who’s gonna come and pick us up?” Bee asked, bouncing excitedly and pulling at his other hand.
Shawn looked between their excited little faces and grimaced inwardly. This was a terrible idea.
“A friend,” he said, choosing to answer Bee, since he had no idea where they were going.
Presumably to visit Rutledge’s father. It seemed Rutledge and his father were at odds—to put it mildly—so Shawn doubted it was going to be a warm family reunion, even without taking into account the fact that Rutledge was clearly bringing him along just to annoy his father.
Dragging Emily and Bee into this wasn’t a good idea, but on the other hand…three thousand dollars. He wouldn’t have to worry about Mrs. Hawkins’s wages for a few months.
“Is that him? Is that him?” Bee’s bouncing became even more excited as she pointed at the black Mercedes that had stopped in front of the building.
“Probably,” Shawn said. “Let’s go.” He took their suitcase and grabbed Bee’s hand with his other hand. Emily could be trusted to stay close and not to run off somewhere; Bee could not.
The Mercedes’s doors opened when they reached it.
Shawn was surprised to find that Rutledge already had child safety seats installed.
“Hey,” he said to Rutledge, feeling awkward and thrown off-balance. Rutledge was never supposed to meet his sisters. “Emily, Melissa, say hello to Mr. Rutledge.”
“I’m not Melissa!” Bee said with a pout.
Shawn hid a smile. “Emily, Bee, say hello to Mr. Rutledge.”
“Hello, Mr. Rutledge!” they said together and Shawn felt a surge of pride. They were just four, but they were very smart and articulate. They looked like little golden-haired angels, smiling shyly at the man. Anyone with a heart would have smiled back.
Apparently, not Derek Rutledge. Rutledge studied the girls as if they were some strange creatures from another planet before nodding faintly and turning back to Shawn. “Get them into their seats. I’ll put your suitcase into the trunk.”
Shawn just rolled his eyes, wondering what had turned Rutledge into such a control freak. It was a completely unnecessary order.
By the time the girls were secured in the back, Rutledge had returned to the driver’s seat. Shawn glanced at the girls for the last time before closing the door carefully and taking his seat.
“Before we leave, I want to make something clear,” Shawn said, lowering his voice so that the girls couldn’t hear. “I know very little about your family, but you won’t drag the girls into your problems with your father. If anyone treats them badly, we’ll leave. Screw the money. Got it?”
Rutledge stared at him for a moment.
“No one will treat them badly,” he said before leaning over, grabbing Shawn’s chin and covering Shawn’s lips with his.
Shawn frowned—it was neither the time nor the place—but Rutledge held his face firmly, his lips hard and hungry, his tongue delving deep into Shawn’s mouth, confident and proprietary, and soon enough, Shawn found himself completely overwhelmed by the intensity of the kiss. It went on, and on, and on—
“Shawn, are you hurt?”
With a gasp, he shoved Rutledge away and focused his gaze on Emily. “What? No!”
A furrow appeared between her small brows. “I thought you were hurt. You were making noises.”
His face warm, Shawn determinedly avoided looking at Rutledge. “I wasn’t making noises.”
“You were!” Bee said, looking puzzled. “Lying is bad! You said so!”
Emily nodded. “And why did Mr. Rutledge put his tongue in your mouth?”
“Because your brother wanted something to suck on,” Rutledge commented, starting the engine.
Flushing, Shawn kicked him on the shin, but to his surprise, the twins seemed satisfied with the explanation and started talking about something else.
He settled back into his seat.
Shawn didn’t look at Rutledge. He couldn’t.
He was still warm all over, his skin tight and his breathing uneven.
Fuck. What was happening to him?
* * *
“So, what’s the deal with your dad?”
They had been driving for over an hour and the girls were asleep.
Rutledge’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead. “Since when is it your business?”
“I don’t know,” Shawn said, not without sarcasm. “You’re dragging me—and my family—to your father’s house, uninvited. Something tells me he won’t be happy to see us.”
“He won’t. But if it makes you feel better, he won’t be happy to see me, either.”
Shawn leaned back in his seat and studied his profile. “I thought he invited you.”
Rutledge chuckled. It was a chilling sound. “My father would never swallow his pride and invite me. Fifteen years ago, he said I would come crawling back when I ran out of money. He hates being wrong.”
Shawn’s eyes widened. “You mean you haven’t been home in fifteen years?”
“And I’d gladly stay away for fifteen more years. I’m still not convinced my sister isn’t lying about his health. That old bastard will outlive us all.”
Shawn was a little disturbed. What did Rutledge’s father do to deserve such hatred from his own son?
“Um, did he beat you when you were a kid?”
The corner of Rutledge’s mouth twitched. “Joseph Rutledge would never do something so plebeian.”
“Ah.” Shawn hesitated. “Did he kick you out because of your sexuality?”
Rutledge’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. “He never kicked me out. I left myself.”
Shawn could sense it was more complicated than that. If Rutledge’s father wanted his son to marry some woman, it meant he still hadn’t accepted his son’s sexuality; he probably thought it was something “curable.” But since Shawn didn’t know Rutledge’s father, he could only speculate.
“What’s he like?”
Rutledge shrugged slightly. “Typical old money. Proud, high-handed, and inflexible.”
“Hmm, he reminds me of someone, then.”
Rutledge visibly stiffened.
Shawn took in the tense set of his wide shoulders, the aggressive jut of his profile.
The five o’clock shadow gave him a rugged, rougher look.
Shawn’s eyes trailed down Rutledge’s arms, from his biceps straining beneath the sleeves of his shirt to the fingers gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.
Shawn licked his dry lips, staring at Rutledge’s hands.
He remembered them gripping his chin, his neck—
“You keep looking at me that way and you’ll end up with my dick in you before the trip is over.”
Shawn snapped his gaze to Rutledge’s face. Rutledge was looking at the road ahead.
His face hot, Shawn said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rutledge just snorted.
Silence fell between them, thick, charged, tingling with awareness.
Finally, Shawn couldn’t stand it anymore. “What did you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Despite your poor grades, you are not completely stupid.”
“Wow, thanks. I’m going to mark this day in the calendar. ‘Professor Rutledge said I’m not completely stupid.’ I feel so special, you know.”
“Wyatt.” Rutledge still wouldn’t look at Shawn. “You’re not as straight as you believe. To put it bluntly: you look at me like you want to suck my cock.”
Shawn opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. Then he laughed. “You have a really high opinion of yourself.”
Rutledge sighed, pulled the car off the road and killed the engine. Without a word, he got out of the car, walked to the passenger seat, opened the door and dragged Shawn out.
“Hey!” Shawn said, glancing back at the twins, but they were still sound asleep.
Rutledge shut the door and dragged Shawn away from the car, towards the woods.
“Look—” Shawn started, but he was cut off when Rutledge pushed him against the wide trunk of a tree and put his hands by either side of Shawn’s face.
The dark eyes bored into him. “I have no patience for gay freak outs. I couldn’t care less if you delude yourself into thinking that you’re totally straight. But when you’re with me, I don’t want to hear this nonsense.”
Shawn laughed uncertainly. “Don’t you think it’s a bit presumptuous of you to say you know better than me whether I’m straight or gay?”
“Actually, I think you’re bisexual, but it’s neither here nor there. I’m not saying I know better than you what turns you on. But I have eyes. I can easily tell when a guy wants to suck my dick.”
“I don’t want to suck your dick. I suck your dick only because you pay me to do it.”
“Yes, I pay you,” Rutledge said in a low voice. “But it doesn’t mean you don’t like it. You have a bit of an oral fixation, Wyatt. Your mouth is very sensitive. You like having your mouth full. You like being kissed. You like being fucked in the mouth.”
Shawn shivered. “I don’t.”
Rutledge raised his eyebrows. “You continue sucking my dick even after I come.”
His skin growing warm, Shawn averted his gaze.
Yeah, he had caught himself doing that a few times, but…
“Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t prove anything.
” Oral fixation was actually a good explanation why he enjoyed Rutledge’s kisses and why having Rutledge’s dick in his mouth felt kind of… all right.
“You’re right,” Rutledge said. “Liking to suck another man’s dick doesn’t make you gay.”
“Stop mocking me.”
“I’m not mocking you.”
They looked at each other in silence.
Shawn moistened his lips with a swipe of his tongue.
Rutledge lifted his hand and stroked Shawn’s bottom lip with his thumb.
Shawn stayed very still, barely breathing.
Rutledge slowly pushed the thumb into his mouth, gently parting Shawn’s lips, as they continued to stare at each other. Shawn tentatively brushed the tip of his tongue over the thumb and then...
He sucked.
Rutledge inhaled sharply. He began to push and pull his thumb in and out of Shawn’s mouth, all the while looking him in the eye.
It made Shawn blush—he was sucking on his professor’s thumb, for fuck’s sake—but god help him, he was loving it, the inside of his mouth tingling.
He couldn’t stop sucking. He wanted to keep sucking on it.
He made a small noise when Rutledge removed his thumb.