Chapter 5

Sebastian's hand was still on my jaw, his thumb moving in slow lazy circles against my cheekbone, and I couldn't fucking breathe.

He was staring at my mouth.

"Tell me no," he said again, quieter this time.

I didn't.

Then he kissed me.

His lips were soft at first and I felt the warmth and then he tilted his head and everything changed. His bottom lip caught mine and pulled a little and my mouth just opened and then his tongue was there. Just touched mine. And my toes curled in my shoes.

I made this sound. I didn't mean to.

His hand went to the back of my neck, fingers in my hair, and he pulled me closer. His other hand pressed into my shirt then slid around to my lower back and pulled me against him. My hips hit his and I felt how hard he was through his pants, felt it against my thigh, against my stomach, and I made that sound again, louder.

He bit my lower lip. Soft. Then tugged it. Then licked it.

"Sebastian," I said. His name came out shaky.

He pulled back and looked at me. His eyes were dark. His lips were wet. His chest was going up and down fast. A strand of his hair fell across his forehead.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he said.

"How long?"

He didn't answer. Just kissed me again.

His hand pressed on my lower back, arching me into him, and his thigh slid between my legs. I ground against him because I couldn't stop, my body just moving, and I felt him smile against my mouth.

"Desperate," he said.

"Shut the fuck up," I said. "You're the one who—"

He kissed me again.

His hand slid under my shirt. His fingers were cold on my stomach and I flinched, but then they moved up to my ribs, to the bruises that were still there, and he touched them so gently.

"Who did this to you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't. Who?"

"I said it doesn't matter, alright? Just drop it."

He didn't push. He lowered his mouth to my collarbone and kissed along the edge of my shirt, his lips soft and warm, and I felt every single one. He sucked on the skin where my neck met my shoulder and I moaned and he covered my mouth with his hand.

"Quiet," he said against my skin. But I could feel him smiling. Bastard.

I bit his palm. Not hard.

"Did you just bite me?"

"You told me to be quiet."

"You're such a little shit."

"And you're still here."

His other hand undid my belt. One pull at a time. Then my button. Then my zipper. The sound was so loud.

I was shaking. He pushed my jeans down past my hips and then his hand was inside my boxers and I forgot how to breathe. His fingers wrapped around me and they were so warm and he didn't move at first, just held me. His thumb rested on the tip and I could feel my heartbeat there.

"Look at me," he said.

"I am looking at you."

"No, like really look at me."

I opened my eyes. I didn't know I'd closed them.

His thumb swiped across the tip and I bucked into his hand. He stayed slow. Just watching me.

"You're so hard," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock. You've been— fuck— you've been touching me for like—"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

He kissed me. That worked.

His hand moved. His tongue was in my mouth. The world was just that. His breath and his taste and his palm twisting at the top of each stroke. The pressure built in my stomach, low and tight, and I couldn't think.

"I've thought about this," he said against my lips. "What you'd sound like. What you'd look like when you fell apart."

"You've thought about me?"

"Don't act surprised."

"I'm not surprised, I just— shit— I didn't think you—"

"That's it," he said. "Let go."

"But I—"

"Just come, Jae."

And I did. I came so hard my vision went white and my whole body jerked and I bit his shoulder so I wouldn't scream. His hand kept moving, kept stroking, until I pushed at his wrist.

"Stop, stop, okay, I can't—"

He pulled his hand out and wiped it on his own shirt. Didn't even blink.

I slumped against him, my forehead on his shoulder, breathing as if I'd just run a mile. My legs felt like they'd give out.

And then my brain started working again. What the fuck just happened? I let my stepbrother jerk me off in a janitor's closet. No, that's not right. I didn't just let him. I wanted it. I ground against him like a dog in heat. I bit him. I told him to shut me up. What is wrong with me? He's supposed to be the rich asshole who ignores me. He's supposed to be the guy whose best friend fucked my girlfriend. He's not supposed to make me feel like this. Like I'm not invisible. Like I matter. Like? I'm something worth looking at.

Then his voice went cold.

"I meant what I said. This didn't mean anything. I just wanted to see what it was like."

I looked up at him. His face was blank. The flush was gone. He looked like he'd just done a math problem.

And something in my chest just cracked. Because for a second there I thought maybe he actually wanted me. Maybe I wasn't just some experiment. But no. Of course not. Why would anyone want me?

I'm the broke kid with the split lip and the expired yogurt and the girlfriend who was laughing at me.

"Bullshit," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. That's bullshit."

"It's not—"

"You're full of shit, Sebastian."

He didn't say anything. Just stood up, smoothed his shirt, and walked out.

I watched him go and then I just sat there on the floor of that closet with my jeans around my thighs and my dick still out like a complete idiot. I pulled my pants up. My hands were shaking. I couldn't even do up my belt right the first time. Had to try twice. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What did I just do? What did I let him do? What does this even make me?

I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

♡♡♡

An hour later my phone buzzed.

Sebastian: Behind the gym. Now.

I typed back: Why?

Sebastian: Just come.