This story is an erotic MM romance.
This Excerpt contains Strong Language and Sexual References.
Rory has been crushing on Bradley ‘Coates’ Scott for nearly his whole life. Coates, however, sees their relationship more as Puppet and Puppet-Master. He’s teased Rory mercilessly over the years, but now something has changed. Suddenly Rory has the chance to have what he’s always wanted.
But when Coates says one thing and means another, Rory knows that his options are few and far between. He puts an end to the relationship he has always wanted and suffers the heartbreak he expected. Is there a way that he can rebuild what was lost, or will all his dreams finally be over for good?
Rory had known the minute he saw Coates for the first time that he would never get over him. Those eyes, that hard mouth that rarely showed a smile unless in derision, that sexy as hell voice that shot straight to his cock. Everything about Coates was specifically designed to turn him on all hours of the day and night. There was no escaping it.
But there was one small problem.
Just little really.
Coates was a complete asshole.
He’d been bullying Rory from almost the same moment he fell in love with him. But he didn’t care. He had a shit load of self esteem, which came from being stunningly gorgeous. He was also smart enough to know that although he would absolutely love to cower before Coates’ feet and beg him for what he really wanted, he would never do that. He wasn’t that fussed about who liked him or who treated him well; he knew he was an oddball and he loved it. So he didn’t have any friends, what did he care? He had a bully.
A bully who made him hard every time those eyes flicked over him. Just as they were flicking over and studying his sketch. Then he turned the page and Rory swallowed. Those eyes he hadn’t long ago been sketching, as Coates himself could now see, widened just a little when he saw the previous page. They slid so slowly across the page and up to meet his gaze that Rory had to bite his lip to keep himself from whimpering.
“Hey…why the fuck is he drawing your eyes?”
And the moment was ruined.
Coates turned to glare at his friend, Atticus, who shrugged and mumbled something about him being right, that he shouldn’t talk. Rory wished he’d give him commands like that. He’d do anything for Coates; he had no shame, no pride. If Coates told him to climb in a garbage can and then stay there for five years, he would probably do it. Who knew how kinky his bully could be.
“Well?” Coates’ smooth voice washed over him again as their eyes met. “Why are you drawing random pieces of my anatomy?” He asked calmly.
“Because you have beautiful eyes.” He confessed, staring into them as he tried to figure out what he’d missed before that made the paper replica not nearly as good as the real thing. Then he saw it; Coates smiled as his friends laughed at him and he saw the ice and the cool calmness in those orbs and he knew what he’d been missing. “But trust me, if I’d just been drawing random pieces of your anatomy, I’d have been drawing that. It would be pure imagination, but I’m guessing I can get it pretty close to the mark.” Rory smiled and pointed a long finger to Coates’ crotch. Sadly, he wasn’t sporting even a slight interest.
Rory knew he’d gone too far when Coates stopped smiling, dropped his sketch book and reached out to grab him by his red school tie. Not that he cared; he kind of had a thing about hands around his throat. He guessed it was from all the years of having Coates’ hands around him. Was there such a thing as turning a frequent exposure into a kink?
“You need to keep your mouth shut about my dick.” Coates snapped at him, dragging the tie so hard that he had to get to his feet or have his head snapped off. And that would be a pity. He willingly got to his feet and faced off his bully for the one millionth time, knowing that he had to do something soon.
While Coates’ friends goaded him into pummelling his ass, and not in the way he wanted him to, Rory realised something heartbreaking. They were both eighteen now, the oldest of their year and it was only six months until they left high school forever. Then he might never see Coates again.
“What college are you going to?” He asked, without thinking.
Coates turned to stare at him, pushing him into the lockers so hard he would have bruises. His friends were still twittering in the background, goading him on, looking for a fight. He wasn’t sure how good a fight it would be, since he would gladly roll over and die for the man he loved.
“Shut it!” He shouted at his friends. In a second, they all cut off mid-word. “Why are you fixated on me?” He asked quietly.
“Because you’re the definition of perfection. Trust me, go find a dictionary, you’ll find pictures of you plastered all over it. H for Hot, Hottie, Hung,” He let his mouth run away with him and flinched as a hand punched the locker right next to his head. He figured it couldn’t get much worse, unless Coates was actually willing to rearrange his face. But his big problem was that the more nervous he got, the more words spilled out of his mouth. “You’re also under T. Tight ass, Tough. S. Sexy, scorching, seductive,” He rambled mindlessly.
What made it a whole lot worse, was that he had wandering hands when he was nervous too. So while he talked, he took the opportunity to press his hands to Coates’ white school shirt, feeling those abs and making him flinch. When Rory looked into his eyes, there was confusion there, which he had never seen before. His friends were silent and one hand was still gripping his tie while the other pushed into his shoulder. If he was brave enough, and if they were alone, he would have tried to kiss him.
Coates might be straight, but he had never kissed him yet and that might make all the difference.
“L. Luscious, lickable,” He licked his lips as his arms found their way to those broad shoulders, slipping over them and just lying there as he’d imagined a thousand times. “I think I might make a Coates dictionary. Then I wouldn’t have to stand here, going through the alphabet.” Rory smiled to himself in approval of that plan.
A hand grabbed his throat and he tilted his head up a little. Coates’ eyes were blazing and his friends were still staring with wide, shocked eyes, as if they had never seen a flamboyant gay flirt before.
Rory’s heart sped up when Coates moved in and put his lips next to his ear. The hand holding his tie released him and slipped up over his shoulder to grab the hair at the back of his head. Coates gave it a good tug, making sure he was forced to tilt his head back some more.
“Drop everything. Make this dictionary and bring it to me. Depending on how good a job you make of it, I might reward you.” That whispered voice was so full of promise in his ear. Rory couldn’t help it; it melted him inside until his eyes closed and he bit his lip. He was pretty sure he might just shoot his load in his pants very soon, if Coates didn’t stop talking. “You have a week.” He said, releasing his throat. He felt movement in front of him and then one of those strong hands he’d been dreaming about touching him, slid into his back jean pocket.
“Call me when it’s done.” He told him. When Coates pulled back, there was something in his eyes he had never seen before. “Do you understand?” He asked, loud enough for even his friends to hear him. Rory might not understand what was going on, but he nodded.
“Yes what?” Coates narrowed his eyes, clearly waiting on something else.
“Yes…please?” He tried, with a smile. Coates laughed, actually laughed, and he knew that somehow his whole world had just turned upside down. Nothing else existed in his world but Coates and now, now he had his chance to have him the way he wanted him.
“Sir, is the word you’re looking for. Or Master, you decide.” He shrugged and took a step back. He blatantly ignored his friends and walked off down the corridor. Rory was a little unsure of the looks they gave him, so he stayed perfectly still.
Coates he wasn’t afraid of, but his friends were a whole different matter. He tried the old T-Rex thing; if he didn’t move, maybe they couldn’t see him.
“Morons!” Coates shouted on them from halfway down the corridor. All eyes turned to answer his call; even Rory. A head nod did the rest and his friends ran off to catch up with their leader.
Rory sank back down to the floor and tried to still his erratic heartbeat. That had to rank in the top spot of the most incredible moments of his life. He put a hand over his thudding heart with a smile and reached out to grab his sketchbook. It wasn’t damaged and his pictures were still in perfect condition, which was more than he expected, so he counted himself lucky. Then he remembered that hand groping his backside and a titter of a laugh spilled out of him.
He scrambled onto his knees and reached into his back pocket to find a piece of paper there. It was folded four or five times, so he unfolded it and found an A4 sheet with a sight that just about blinded him for life.
Coates had drawn a picture for him.
He was very clearly a talented artist as it barely took Rory more than a glance to identify him as the standing figure in the picture. His head was back and his hands were wound on the back of someone’s head. He seriously hoped it was his. If it was, he was on his knees doing things to Coates that he’d only been able to imagine so far. Off to the right of the picture was a short message and a mobile number.
Next Friday this will be us, if you do as you’re told. It said.
Rory gave his mouth a wipe to make sure he wasn’t drooling. They were an ‘us’? When had that happened? Not that he actually cared when. All he cared about was that it might be real. He needed it to be real.
He lay the picture down on his raised knees and glanced at his watch. He had ten minutes of his free period left, then English class. He would have to work on his homework during class, get through it quickly and then spend the rest of the night working on his Coates Dictionary.