Page 22 of Teach Me To Sin
“Then are you coming?”
A finger grazes my prostate and all my muscles clench like I got electrocuted. “Mmmmmmm.” I tip my head back into the pillow, shuddering. “I’m coming.”
“Get out here in ninety seconds or I’ll have the housekeeper unlock your door.”
The thought of being dragged out of my room with my pants down almost kills my rush, but I think about Alek’s and Colson’s cocks in my face as I jerk myself harder and shove my fingers all the way in. “Uhhhhhgod…” Squeezing my eyes shut, I shoot spurts hot cum up to my chin. Before my dick even finishes leaking, I’m on my feet and wiping myself off with my shirt before pitching it toward the laundry hamper. I dive commando into the first pair of shorts I see, then yank on a massive hoodie as I unlatch the door and push past my father into the hall. “Iknowwhen swim practice is. Could you not tell I was literally on my way out?” He doesn’t need to know that I’m probably going to hide somewhere, call Alek, and quit.
My sass dries up on my tongue as the craggy, silver-haired man looks me over. I can play games, but I’ll never disobey him for the same reason I’m still here at twenty-three, doing whatever he tells me–I’m shit-scared of the man. My mom had the right idea to disappear in the night eleven years ago, but for some reason she forgot to take me with her.
When he takes a step toward me, I move back until my shoulders bump the wall. “Remember, boy. If you don’t take this seriously, you’re coming into the office and training your lazy ass to become a division head. You won’t leave that office before two AM a day in your life until you learn where your place is. Understood?”
If I think about the way Alek looks at me, or the feeling of Colson’s hand on my neck, I almost find the courage to sayno. But they’re not here and never will be, and I’ll always be shit on the bottom of everyone’s shoe. When the man narrows his eyes warningly, I grit my teeth. “Yes, sir.”
“Now fuck off.”
I dodge around him and take the stairs two at a time, vaulting over the railing on the sixth step from the bottom onto a piece of floor that’s worn smooth from all the times I’ve done the same thing. The ceilings in this place are all three times higher than they need to be, and no lamp ever really lights up the cavernous rooms. Everything’s hard and shiny–polished wood, marble, brass, reflecting cold light and shadows. I’ve never lived anywhere else, because Dad put me straight from high school into an “internship” at his financial software development company. Sometimes I imagine I’m a wolf and this is my cave, as I prowl the rooms and sit on the windowsills eating junk food and watching birds pull worms out of the lawn.
I should go to the bus stop I’ve been using to avoid Gideon. Instead, I sneak through the dining room and butler’s pantry to the pool that’s entirely encased by windows like a humid, mossy snow globe full of fake plants. Throwing my clothes off as quickly as I put them on, I jump naked into the water. I like to float on my back and watch squirrels try to run across the glass above me. Sometimes they lose their footing and fall, and I have to go into the backyard and make sure they’re not dead.
Today I prop my elbows on the brick edge, drag my pants closer, and wrestle my phone out of the pocket. Alek’s contact sits at the very top of the list. I rest my nose against my folded arms, stare at it, and try to rehearse what I’ll say in random, confused fragments.
It’s not about you. You’re perfect.
I broke all the boundaries. If we carry on, I’ll break more. I’ll break you.
It’s not fair.
My wet finger hovers over the call button. I’ve always done whatever I wanted, anything I could get away with to make my life suck less. This is the one time I need to do the right thing. He’ll protest and say he doesn’t understand, but I’ll disappear and he’ll forget about me while I get yelled at by Dad’s minions until two AM.
My hand hangs there a long time before I slowly curl my fingers into a fist and rest my forehead against it. “Shit.”
Trying to clear my mind, I push off and swim carefully–since my dick is out–from one end to the other and back. I don’t believe in a mystical bond with the water. To me, swimming is logical, the one math problem I can solve. But I like it in here. It’s a place where I feel stronger and better than the version of me that lets my dad kick me around because I don’t have any skills to make it in the real world. And now it’s the place that ties me to Alek.
When I hit the far wall, I toss my head back like I did at the meet, checking an imaginary scoreboard. “And it’s Bennett Atwood for the goooooold! What an underdog story!” I switch from an announcer voice to the sound of a vast crowd cheering, and pump my fists toward the windows. The guy on a riding lawn mower cutting the grass doesn’t even glance over.
Raising my arms high above my head, I imagine scrambling out of the water and having Alek throw his arms around me, spinning me into an awkward, silly celebration dance. He’d be so fucking proud.
Gradually, I let myself sink until just my hands are above the surface. It’s too unfair. No one can be expected to give up the whole world, even if it’s the right thing to do. Somehow, some way, I’ll make this work without letting anyone get hurt.
And now I really am late for practice.
Alek
True to his word, Benji has given me space for the three days since the fundraiser. And just like I feared, I’ve hated every minute. I spent most of my spare time making him a seven-page document of step-by-step workout routines, trying to avoid memories of the hot, sweaty locker room full of moans and heavy breathing. For the first time since she left, I even considered calling Maya and begging her to talk me through things in her calm, logical way.
After my last intermediate class of the day, I say goodnight to Tate and watch him drive away before heading to the practice pool. Instead of waiting like a puppy to see if he shows up, I sort through the storage closet for the fourth time. When the door creaks twenty minutes after our usual start time, my rebellious heart races out of control.
Benji’s so cute today that it takes my breath away. Normally he wears plain shirts and jeans that are clearly designer, accessorized by the heavy submariner watch on his wrist. This time, he looks like he’s hiding from the world in short denim cutoffs and a worn red Stanford hoodie about four sizes too big for him. Hoisting his duffel on his shoulder, he watches me with hunched shoulders, waiting to be rejected. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Now that he’s standing in front of me, I know I could never have turned him away. We’re as inevitable as gravity. I raise my voice, trying to sound confident. “Ready to warm up?”
Instead of answering, he walks over to me and peers up into my face with soulful, searching eyes. I’ve been overthinking everything the past few days, but when he’s close enough to see the individual strands of his unruly auburn waves, everything feels sharp and simple. I can feel myself sliding right back into the need which makes me do dangerous things. Turning my head away, I fix my gaze on the water that has given and taken everything from me in the endless cycle of my life.
I twitch when soft, warm fingers brush my jaw and tug gently until my eyes meet his. A small smile flits across his mouth, then disappears. “I want to say sorry. I shouldn’t have…” His eyebrows scrunch, like he’s not used to apologizing for things. “I shouldn’t have made your first time be like that without asking, just because I knew you’d go along with it.”
“It wasn’t my first time,” I protest, feeling pathetic. “I’ve had plenty of sex. When I was your age, I did coke and partied every weekend.”
His jaw drops. “Youwhat?”