Page 9 of Holiday Scars
The thought slams into me so hard I can barely breathe.
Blade strolls to his side of the bed, all casual, like he hadn’t just detonated something inside me. My palms are sweating, and my skin feels too tight. As well as my jeans in the groin area. Everything is fucking throbbing.
Needing to get my sanity in check, I mutter that I’m taking a shower next. I don’t even care if there’s hot water. In fact, I’d much rather a shot of cold spray on my traitorous, heated skin. I have to get away from Blade before I say or do something I can’t take back.
“See you in the living room,” Blade says, his voice light and casual.
In the bathroom, I press my hands on the sink to steady myself. Steam from Blade’s shower still blurs the mirror, but my reflection finds a way to stare back. My eyes are too dark, my jaw too tight.
I’d been with plenty of women. But this... This rush of arousal in my veins feels different. This lust belongs to a man. Blade.
Inside the shower, I’m surprised there’s hot water, but I keep it lukewarm, so I am on the edge. My cock bobs, aching for release.
Ignoring that, I keep my eyes closed. I grab some soap and start washing myself. My body is a graveyard of scars, Shoulders, chest, abdomen, and lots on my arms, too. I stopped feeling self-conscious about them long ago. If Blade saw these scars beneath my tats, he wouldn’t be disgusted, he’d be furious.
I would have to tell him about how I got them. It’s not a long-drawn-out answer, they were all from the same foster home. One that Dirk was lucky enough to avoid. CPS didn’t like breaking up siblings, but things got desperate that winter.
It wasn’t the mother or father. They were smart enough not to hurt the kids. Kids were money. It was the other kids. I was the youngest, and they used me as a testing ground to see how much skin would bleed. And because the mom didn’t want to raise any flags, she never brought me to a hospital or even to urgent care for stitches.
It’s all part of my history. Dirk learned to ink skin just to hide my scars. Then I learned, too. I’m just not as artistic as he is.
What I feel for Blade didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s not like one day I just looked at him and something flipped. A faint gnawing has always been there. I just learned early on to bury those feelings deep, smother them.
Growing up with dudes who hurt me taught me that being vulnerable around men meant pain. So, I shoved it down, convinced myself I was straight. Or bi, since I respond to women just fine.
Or maybe that was a way to cope.
Maybe because I’ve finally felt like I’ve come into my own since I started working with Quinlan Empire, and Blade is single again, it’s all sharpening for me.
I finish up, knowing I don’t have all night to be in here. The hot water’s bound to run out, and I’m fucking hungry.
And not just for food.
The image of Blade’s face won’t leave my head. Damn it. How his ass looked when he walked away naked affects me differently now.
Did Dirk say something to him? My brother still hasn’t mentioned the text.
Unless... Did Dirk tell Blade what I said with a warning to stay away from me, regardless of how I felt? Fuck, I have to confront my brother. But will that start WWIII here at the cabin with us all jammed into this tiny space for the weekend?
Shit, I have to forget I ever sent that text. And live with this quiet ache.
Live with the fantasy of Blade behind my eyes. How confident he is on our jobs for Trace, taking the lead, often going out of his way to keep me safe. His electric blue eyes pop off his golden skin. I am dying to know how those eyes would watch me if I went down on him.
Or stare at me as I look over my shoulder, while on my hands and knees, and he had his way with me.
My cock wakes up again, stirring to a painful stiffness as memories of Blade blur into fantasies. I have to figure out what to do with this surge of longing that manifested into that text confession.
I don’t remember the last time I had sex, and I don’t remember the last time I was this hard. Not even when I watched Blade rail some stranger in a bathroom.
My cock thickens more, and it’s dizzying to be this aroused. God, I see him lowering to his knees for me, smiling, lips partedto take all of me into his mouth. I stroke myself and with just one tight jerk, my vision goes white with lust. My mind is jumbling the fantasy that it’s my hand on his cock, or his hand on my cock.
Doesn’t matter, it’s fucking fantastic. This lust has me by the balls, which are hard and tight. Bracing one hand on the tile wall, I stroke my swollen shaft.
With water dousing my hand and cock, all I think about is Blade’s mouth. Surrendering to me would be a sacrifice. His strong, full lips wrapped around my dick, taking me down his throat. My hands on his bald head, guiding it while he blows me.
I’m certain that I’m bigger than he thinks I am. I’ll choke him if I fuck his face.
Gasp...
