Chapter 6 is out, sorry for the slow update, but at the moment it's like my "weekend-story". I promise I will update more and faster.
I hope you'll enjoy it, so please, please, please, let me know what you think, comment, vote etc ... THANK YOU!
Dedicated to ludbrads, thanx for reading and enjoying my stories, hope you'll like this one as well :-)
On the right, a picture of Roman Kovalenko --> Luke Armitage.
Music ... mhhh... maybe that will be good for the chapter.
Cheers xox
EMMETT POV
He had just snorted and said he was gay and wanted me. For crying out loud, what was wrong with this brat? I shook my head. The problem here wasn’t what was wrong with him, but what was wrong with me.
I answered to his kiss, I fucking shoved my tongue in his mouth, made him moan and let my body rule me at its own please and wits. I swallowed really hard, felling my throat getting dry. His hand was still on one of my arms, while I held his shoulder to keep him at distance. We still were touching.
I stared at him, his face a mask of arrogant mockery, his eyes shining a light I never saw in any other person in my entire life. It had almost a hypnotic effect on mine, because it kept my gaze glued on his, unable to tear it away. His lips were smirking in such a cocky and twisted way that made me want to wipe it away once again.
What the hell was going on here?
“What the hell did you say?” I asked, feeling a complete idiot for making him repeat things I gladly didn’t want to hear once again.
He rolled his eyes in annoyance and arched his light eyebrows, then shot me another ambiguous grin, his eyes still glued to mine. God, they were indeed liquid.
“Emmett, I said I want you and I’m not backing off, if that what’s in your mind, lad.”
“Are you out of your mind, Shane? You don’t know anything about me!” My voice was now increasing in volume and seriousness, almost roaring, because reality just hit me painfully.
I kissed a random guy, younger and male, that I didn’t know at all, name aside.
“How can you freak out for a kiss? I take it was the first time you kissed a guy, right?” He provoked, now leaning closer. I tried to keep a safe distance between us.
“What do you need to know about me? You liked anyway the kiss, didn’t you?”
He closed the safe distance, in some way I didn’t understand, and pressed his body on mine. Shane slowly grinded his hips on mine; we both were only wearing shorts made of thin fabric and that had me feel everything of him. As I am sure, he felt everything of me, judging by his triumphal grimace.
“See, why freaking out, sham?”
Shane ran his fingers on my arms, my body completely frozen and paralyzed, disconnected from my brain that was shouting to move and push away the person in front of it. His fingers travelled up to my hair, brushed them and locked between them; he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, tilting slightly his head on the side. He was enjoying this.
The problem was that also my body was enjoying this, waking up after a long sleep, emerging from a long hibernation of its senses and needs. My mind and consciousness were no longer in charge of me, they had been kicked back and put still.
I tightened the grip on his shoulders and pulled him on me, bent my face on his side, to breathe in his scent mixed with my shower gel, I ran my nose on his neck. Shane trembled in my hands and tilted more his head, to grant me more access. I took the opening and let my lips feel his skin, which felt too good for my own mental sanity.
I had no idea what I was doing.
My mind was shouting at me to get a grip and snap out of it, because we didn’t need anything of this, because it would bring only problems and damn annoying headaches. And sure we didn’t need more of them. I didn’t need more regrets and guilty conscience biting my neck and hissing in my ears.
True. I didn’t need any of this, I had plenty of shit in my life.
But, right now, my senses couldn’t care less. They found something that unexpected kicked them alive once again, I could feel something stir inside me, something vaguely familiar, which I hadn’t felt in ... fuck, in long years. I forgot what that was, almost a stranger for me. But it was there, now stirring and swirling restless, kicking me back alive.
When was the last time I felt alive?
I had no idea.
His skin was soft, but toned, cool and warm at my touch. He trembled more, forcing me closer, my body didn’t protest. My mind screamed and cursed it. I progressed up on his neck, until my mouth met the shell of his ear. Something else stirred, reminding me of my old self, when I used to flirt with girls and make their heads spin. I nuzzled it, then slightly nibbled his earlobe, very tender and soft between my teeth and then slicked the tip of my tongue all around its line. Shane moaned and the grip on my hair strengthened.
More flashbacks, more stirring, more senses alive.
My body liked it and begged for more.
My mind loathed and threatened me to stop at once and kick the brat out of our place.
Take more of him, let me taste more.
What the hell are you doing, stupid pathetic excuse of man? Can you even call yourself a man? I don’t think so, lame moron. Do you want more problems? Do you want again to hear that voice in your mind, reminding you what you were time ago, but you will never be again? Do you really want that, ha?
Don’t listen, let me enjoy it, shut it up. Take him.
I nibbled more his ear, feeling hot electricity in my lower regions and limbs. I cupped his face in my hands, fixed a moment his expression of cocky rapture, and then forced my tongue again in his mouth, which he took without complaining and giving it free reins.
We made out more and harder, we both moaned lost, my kiss deepened and felt like it wanted more, it needed more. My left hand kept his face still and glued to mine, my right one shifted down on his back, grabbed the waistband of his shorts and taunted it a bit.
He gasped in my mouth and melted more against me, his body pleading for more.
My body pleading for more.
My head now in murdering rage.
I felt a groan grow low and deep in my throat and wanting to escape free. I let it out, now feeling completely our hard-on stroking each other in want.
SNAP.
What the hell was I doing here?
I broke the kiss and panted for air, shoving away Shane with too much force, because he stumbled back and tripped to gain new balance. I leaned back on the counter, feeling a complete piece of junk, a pathetic and lame man. I pressed the palm of my hand on the forehead, as if wanting to squeeze out of it a bit of sense and rationality.
I had kissed that brat, Shane, and let my sense and primordial needs took the best and control of me. That was unspeakable. How could I let it sink that low?
A loud sigh left my lips and I rested few seconds with closed eyes, wanting to calm down breath, heart speed and sexual desire.
I shook my head in reprimand.
My body really wanted Shane.
Light steps walked towards me and placed a hand over mine.
“What’s wrong, Emmett? Getting cold feet, lad? ” His voice had a clear and bitter mockery tone; I could sense resentment in it. I could already picture how his eyes were blazing and waving, as a jaded blue sea in a burning storm of emerald flames.
I swallowed once more and kicked everything out of me. I pushed myself up and stood tall and above him. I brushed away his hands and stared blank and dull at him, no trace of any emotion what so ever on my face. I could see the effect it had on him. He didn’t like it at all and something flashed in his face, something I didn’t bother to understand or fathom what it was.
I didn’t give a damn about it.
“I shouldn’t have played along with you, Shane. You are still a kid.” My voice was dry and emotionless.
“What? I am not a kid, you cunt. I bloody told I am nineteen.” He spat, venom spewing out from each of his word, his eyes daggering me.
“And why are you still in school? Aren’t you a bit too old?” I retorted feeling then a complete jerk, giving the torn and deadly look he shot me.
“That amn’t your bloody business. I missed two years, so what? I don’t give a bollocks on that, on what you piece of cunt think of that and what every-fecking-one thinks of me. You can all burn in hell, for all I care. You know bloody nothing about me, twat.” Shane was now shivering in rage and resentment, cursing in a maddening way, his accent swallowing every word.
It made me feel even more a pathetic and pitiful piece of junk.
I had no right to judge him or whatever, but I didn’t want him here, I didn’t want him this close to me, he had to go. And, damn soon.
“You are right, Shane. I know nothing about you and the same is for you. You know shit about me and now stop cursing in that stupid way, I can’t understand a word you say. You’re just a spoilt and rotten brat.” I had been too harsh and unfair, I know, but I had to hurt him and chase him away, fucking far away.
Wasn’t I really lame and disgusting? A man of nearly thirty years not able to properly deal and behave with a guy way younger than I was. Who was now the rotten and spoilt brat, ha, Emmett?
I didn’t see or expect his reaction, which came faster than a blink of eye.
His eyes flashed with more anger, coming from somewhere deep hidden inside him, my words had touched probably a sensitive nerve, coming from another place, not from here. He narrowed his eyes, now a dangerous dark tempest of jade and aquamarine, and his arm moved in a flash, connecting painfully his fist with my jaw.
It punched so hard, that I stumbled back, now pain bursting in my jaw and radiating like a flame all over around it. I massaged it to ease the pulsing pain.
“Shit, what the fuck?” I snarled, now getting myself angry and ready to react, my old self not allowing such an affront to pass by unpaid. I fisted my finger, feeling them itchy.
Lord. When was the last time I felt in this way? Years ago, when I was on the basketball court and ruling over the game and making people roar in excitement, fighting the opponents with all I had and not permitting them to challenge me or stealing my ball.
I relaxed my hands and breathed deeper.
Shane wasn’t good for me, he had stirred too much in me in just a hour.
“I deserved it, ok. Fair enough.” I said, my voice now calm and monotonous.
“Now, you better get the hell out of here.” I ordered arid.
He snorted and snarled something.
“Are you a tool? You have shoved my clothes in your bloody washing machine. I am supposed to walk outside like this?” He gestured his half-naked body.
I looked around and spotted a jumper hanging on a chair; it had even a hood. I grabbed it and tossed it at him, with a empty glare.
“Take this, I’ll send you or whatever your clothes another day. Now, get the hell out of here.” I hissed.
He quickly wore the jumper, marched towards the hall and kicked on his shoes. Shane turned and I could see loathing in his beautiful eyes, his skin had paled down and his lips were a tense thin line. I felt a jerk, but it’s what I had to do to save my ass and avoid more regrets, more pain in the neck and more troubles. I had enough of them and lately I had turned into a complete damn coward.
“Can you please lend me your phone for a moment? I’ll make sure to pay you the call.” He asked in a sarcastic polite way, oozing bitterness from every word.
“What you need my phone for?”
He snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Have no wallet, money or phone. Can’t go back home, tool, right now and need to call someone.”
I sighed and walked to the living room, looking for my phone. Then got back and passed it to him, trying to decipher his face, now a livid and hard mask of mixed feelings.
He snatched it and dialled a number, waiting for it to answer, grunting in annoyance when the no one had still answered.
Shane kept the phone ringing, waiting and getting more annoyed and in incensed mood, his eyes smouldering green and blue.
I leaned against the wall and waited for him to reach whomever he had in mind over the phone. Wait a moment. He said he couldn’t go back home, why on earth? The memory of what he had said about his family flashed in my head, ringing now very loud and pitchy. I shook my head. It wasn’t anyway my business.
The sooner he reached his friend or whatever, the better.
The sooner he was gone, the better for me.
He turned his back on me and placed his forehead on the door, taking a deep breath. He shut off the phone, cursed under his breath and dialled another time.
I could almost hear every single ring and every single ring circled and twitched in my head, as if to say what a jerk I was, to chase away him in that way. He clearly had something going on in his house, something that wasn’t fine. But I didn’t have to care about it, it was safer in that way, easier for me.
Remember, Emmett? No more problems.
Let him go and that’s it.
That was right.
The phone kept ringing on the other side, his back was moving in nervous and angry inhalations. So was mine, my head splitting in ache and confusion and disgust for myself.
How pathetic could I be?
I was letting him go under the rain, just wearing a jumper, after insulting him.
Not your business, remember? A voice hissed in my head. The voice was right.
I heard a voice on the other side of the phone, finally.
Lord. What a pathetic excuse of a man I was.
I bent over Shane, snatched the phone away before he could utter a word and pressed against my ear.
“Hello?” A deep and grave voice answered, a strange accent hidden in the background of the word. It was a male voice.
“Hello, is this Ben?” I said picking the first name that came into my mind. Shane turned and went to seize the phone and opened his mouth to say something, but I shut it with my hand, a clear expression of shock plastering his face. I shot him a glare, to tell him to shut up.
“No, this isn’t Ben; I think you made the wrong number.” The voice was controlled and low, it gave off vibes of someone strong-minded and collected. Again, an accent I couldn’t tell the origin.
“I am very sorry for the mistake. Good bye.”
“No problem, good bye.”
I turned off the phone and shoved it in my pocket, letting go of Shane’s mouth. His nostrils winded in growing rage and his eyes blazed more viciously.
“What the bloody hell have you done? Where I am supposed to go now, you, piece of bloody...”
I shut him up pressing him against the door, my arms on each side of his head. Shane gulped and then swallowed.
“Shut up, will ya? Just stay here for tonight, but hold that damn cursing of yours, it really pisses me off and I fucking can’t understand you when you rant with that damn strong accent.”
“What?” He snapped.
“I said, cool it down and stay here.”
I knew I had just dug my own damn grave and welcomed intentionally new regrets and pain in the ass. Could I be more stupid? But when I saw his figure leaning down on the door, trembling with anger and something else I didn’t understand, feeling it all over the room, his resentment and mixed feelings filling me, the image of his jaded liquid blue eyes burned in my mind, I couldn’t let him go.
He narrowed his eyes to study me, now on guard and clearly in distrust and suspicion.
“Are you some kind of bipolar tool, ha?” He sneered.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, to control the sensations he was stirring back to me, my old self jumping outraged for the affront and ready to take the challenge and throw it right back at his smug and cocky face.
“No, I am absolutely normal and have no double personality’s problems.” I reassured him, not so sure myself right now about it.
“Dunno, sham. You changed pretty quickly your mood, know that?” Now his voice was relaxing down and getting more provocative, but in a less bitter tone. That made me chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” He demanded, now studying my open eyes. Lord, they really were like sea water, no, even more vivid and beautiful.
“Nothing. C’mon, I promised to make some pasta.” I had to ease the moment.
“You said I don’t know anything about you and same bollocks for you about me, sham. Why should I stay?” Shane challenged, clearly not satisfied with my lack of explanation and pathetic tries to change subject. He wouldn’t let it go that easily, but I didn’t feel much like explaining right now.
“True, Shane. We know nothing about each other.” I closed my eyes and said something I was damn sure I would regret with all my mighty. “Maybe you can tell me something about yourself, while I cook, what you think?”
His blue jades gleamed in surprise and fixed my eyes, now for sure not anymore dull and lifeless, for long seconds, as if he wanted to read or understand something, as if he wanted to drill holes in them. His juicy and soft lips had relaxed in a more smirking smile. He shook his head and leaned it on my chest.
“You’ll give me bloody headache, know that, Emmett?” He joked, his accent less strong.
I chuckled, knowing perfectly what he meant.
“Right back at you, Shane.” I said, brushing now his messy hair.
I led him in the living room and gave him a clean t-shirt.
“Just relax or whatever, I’ll try to cook something.”
“I can help you, if you don’t mind.” He proposed.
I shook my head, but he insisted anyway to stay in the kitchen with me. I knew I had to ask him something, but right now, my mind was a complete mess, blank of any common sense or normal questions.
I took out a pan a pour in some tomato sauce, sliced in a couple of yellow peppers. Then turned on the gas and placed over the other pot with water to cook the pasta. I let the sauce and peppers stirred a bit, adding oil of olive and salt, and a pinch of paprika. I liked spicy food. When I judged the sauce at the right point, I added some cream and blended everything together. I tossed the spaghetti in the other pot. I took a spoon of sauce and tasted it: it seemed fine to me.
The whole process of cooking, while Shane was looking at me, had somehow relaxed me.
I offered him a taste of the sauce, wanting to know if it was too spicy for him.
“How is it?” I held the spoon for him and he tasted it. His eyes widened again in surprise.
“It’s bloody delicious.” He looked at me from head to toe. “You can actually cook.”
I snorted at his surprised face and got back to the spaghetti. He walked over and leaned on me, resting his head on my shoulder.
“Do you mind if I do this?” His voice was less cocky; more likely, it was testing me.
I thought about it for few seconds. Did I mind it?
“Nope, it’s ok, just don’t ...” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. I was afraid to stir again that sleeping and forgotten old side of me, at the solely memory of our kiss.
“I’ll keep my hands and tongue off.” Shane joked, smirking arrogant for sure. I breathed in relieve.
“For now.” He added, with a very provoking and wicked tone.
I shoved away whatever came into my mind, concentrating on the sauce and stirring with a fork the spaghetti, trying to ignore his presence right here, touching me and filling me.
When everything was ready, I told him where to find cutlery and plates, and to set the table. I watched him wander around the kitchen and attend his core, following from the corner of my eyes his every single step. I growled annoyed inside me, annoyed at my pathetic weakness and lack of common sense.
We ate supper on the kitchen counter and just talked about normal and random stuff, neither of us wanting to deepen the conversation while enjoying a good and warm meal.
“They are really good, bloody hell. I can taste such good food only when Enna invites me over.” He said, digging in more in his spaghetti, clearly liking them.
“Who is Enna?” I asked, suddenly curious, for no reason.
“A friend of mine.” He paused a moment, a fork of spaghetti in front of him. “More likely, my best friend, he’s like family for me, him and his boyfriend, the guy you talked to before.”
He explained, smiling more softly at the thought of them.
“You called them before? Why?”
“Told you, can’t go home and Enna and Roman’s place is like my island of peace and happiness, like my personal Neverland, know what I mean?”
I wasn’t sure I knew what he meant, there was so much I didn’t know about him, well, mostly everything, but his tone in some way spoke enough clear and I simply nodded, for the moment not in the right mood to press for more. He clearly had some big issues of his own.
Shane helped me wash the dishes and then we just lazed down on the sofa. I played a recorded game from the weekend.
“You like basketball?” He asked, turning his questioning eyes on me.
“Yep, I like it.” I felt a lump forming and pushing in my throat. Fuck. Not now, please. Not fucking now. “If you don’t like it, we can change.” Please, say you don’t like it.
What the hell was I thinking when I played the game? Moron.
“It’s ok, I actually enjoy watching some of it. It’s not very popular here, you know what I mean?” He shrugged his shoulders. He shot me a seizing glare. “You are tall, did you play basketball?”
Shit. Hit right the bull’s eye. I faked the best poker face I could manage and tried to control my voice.
“Yeah, a bit.” Shane didn’t seem satisfied at first with my answer, judging by the way his eyes scanned me, but he let it go. He laid down and rested his head on my lap, me taking in a big gush of air to calm the now awakening old self.
“Do you mind it?” I felt his breath caressing my knee. I suppressed a shiver and a soft growl.
“It’s ok, Shane.”
We kept silent and quiet, just watching the game.
My body now screaming and taunting me in demand of its needs and my mind yelling at me how stupid I was behaving, how I lacked common sense.
I shook my head and shut them all out of my head, just wanting to hear nothing.