I turn up the radio to drown out their voices, holding in my scoff. The day after the party, he could barely talk, sounding all hoarse as if he’d been throat-fucked too roughly.
His eye was swollen too from me punching him, and when Mom asked him what happened and he said he couldn’t remember, I was to blame for getting him drunk and not looking after him.
He was nearly late for practice because he was in the shower for fucking hours. I had to drive him. He stayed silent the entire time – not that we talk anyway.
It’s the same every day. Not even a fucking thank you for letting him ride with me to school. Mom wants me to bond with Blaise more since she knows we can’t stand each other. We fight. We argue. We find every opportunity to go against the other.
We live nearby, so we don’t stay on campus. It’s easier that way. I don’t need to worry about surviving on no money or suffering by having an idiotic roommate.
Once I stop outside Mia and Allie’s dorm, they both climb out. She leans into my window. “Are you still coming over tonight? Mia won’t be home.”
I nod and grab her jaw, pulling her mouth to mine and slipping my tongue against hers. I can feel Blaise staring while I kiss her, like he always does when I’m with my girlfriend. It brings me joy when I open my eyes and see through the mirror that he’s glaring to the side and ignoring Mia whispering in his ear.
Wiping the lipstick from my mouth with the back of my hand, I drive off with Blaise still in the backseat.
“You shouldn’t lead her on,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s disrespectful and makes you look like even more of an asshole.”
I roll my eyes and grab my packet of cigarettes, lighting one up and waiting for him to scold me on that too. But when he doesn’t, I turn the radio up even louder and speed off toward the garage while 3TEETH fills the car.
The sooner I get him to this garage, the sooner I can get peace. My head aches, and I need to either smoke a joint or lay my fists into something or someone. Maybe I’ll pull the car into an alleyway and knock him black and blue. I’ll certainly feel better.
He’s forever telling me I’m not good enough for Allie. Even though he cheated on his girlfriend with an unidentified guy, and then sent videos of his cock to them without even putting up a fight. And he has the fucking audacity to say this shit to me?
I stop outside the garage and wait for him to vanish. His presence is irritating me. My neck hurts from when he gripped it, and the smoke I’m inhaling is harsh against my throat.
“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath as he slams the door behind him, and I grit my teeth, desperate to throw open my door and punch him again.
Driving to Samson’s place, I pull out the second phone and nearly crash as I see the recording. He actually sent it. Multiple minutes long. And instead of laughing to myself and deciding how to use this against him, I pull off to the side and open the file without hesitation.
I click play and watch the way his hand strokes his thick, veiny cock. Not as big as me, but close. It’s long, even longer with the way he’s working it from base to tip and adjusting his seating position to widen his legs.
I’m with Allie. I don’t want Blaise. I’ll keep telling myself that too, because this is all to mess with my stepbrother. I don’t want him, and I definitely don’t check my surroundings and adjust my pants while I watch the full recording.
With sound. Fuck, there’s sound. His breathing is heavy, releasing soft groans that have me turning the volume up to its highest.
Who does he think this is for? Everyone who took part in that chasing game was a friend of mine.Myfucking friends. Does he think I’m Samson? Keith? Someone else?
Who is he imagining while pulling his cock like this?
My body fights against the reaction I shouldn’t have, making me shift in place and shake my head. Eyes still on the screen, my breaths quicken. There’s heat crawling up my spine, a light sweat on my forehead.
A normal human reaction to sexual interaction, I’m sure. My therapist would be proud of me for trying to get in touch with this emotion. Well, they would be if I still went to see them.
When he comes, he moans deeply, and his cum spurts from the tip of his cock. I need to pause the clip – if I keep watching, I’ll grow more confused, and I hate being confused. It aggravates me.
Instead of watching the last few seconds, I type out a message.
Me: Poor Mia, thinking her boyfriend is innocent and straight. Does she know how much you love sucking cock? That you got so fucking hard having your control taken from you? I can still feel the way you were struggling for breath.
My annoyance hasn’t lessened, so I keep going.
Me: I think Cole would love to know what happened last weekend. I might even send him this video.
I sigh a relieved breath when I feel the tension wrapping around my ribs vanishing. That’s it. That’s the reason why I’m doing this. Not to get myself a reaction or randomly aroused. I need to stay on track.
The response is immediate, and I can feel his panic and rage through the screen.
Blaise: Why the fuck would you do that?