Getting It Twisted (Unforgivable Needs #1)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nathan

Daniel crosses his arms, leaning against the bathroom doorway. “I told you; I won’t choke you again until we have a safe word.”

I pop the mascara wand back into its tube. “And I’ve told you just to pick one.”

“Even if we had one, would you use it?” The insistence in his voice, that moralizing, highbrow challenge in his eyes . . . He doesn’t get it.

I want to feel like I’m sinking into someone else’s mercy. I want to lose control and let go of myself, let go of everything. I’ve tried explaining this to him about a hundred times in the past two weeks.

If I can just say a word or make a gesture and be in control again in the blink of an eye, it defeats the purpose . . . But maybe that’s just my nonexistent sense of self-preservation talking.

“I trust you. And I trust you not to hurt me for real.”

He shakes his head. “But I don’t trust you , how about that?”

I scowl into the mirror, tracing my eyes with a thin layer of eyeliner. He’ll come around soon enough. Choking is off the menu, but he holds no qualms about spanking my ass until it’s red like a traffic sign.

For the past two weeks, we’ve fucked like rabbits. In every constellation imaginable, in every room of the house. I pick him up from work, we get something to eat, and then we spend the rest of the evening exploring each other’s bodies. I’ve made a game of how quickly I can get him to come, and he’s made a game of how quickly he can get me to beg for his dick. We’ve even set timers and everything. Needless to say, he always wins the latter.

Our newfound routine has also meant Friday came along sooner than I wanted or expected, and Friday means Joshua and his sleazy, drugged-up party.

Daniel nods at me. “Do you really have to dress like that?”

“Why? Worried I’ll get unwanted attention?”

He joins me by the mirror, lines up against my back, and growls into my ear, “Yeah, that too. But mostly because I’ll have trouble keeping my hands off you.”

True to his words, his hands encircle my exposed midriff. The outlines of my nipples peek through the sheer material of my top, and my sleek leather pants are so tight I have trouble moving. Delicate silver feathers dangle from my earlobes, and the makeup further enhances the look: coal-black eyeliner and a trace of pink lip gloss.

“We could give them a show,” I say with a grin. “These parties go pretty wild, you know. I walked in on a three-way once.”

Daniel shakes his head, nose buried in the crook of my neck. His arms encase my body, and our pose emphasizes how he’s taller than me, bigger than me, stronger than me. His fingers travel further up my front, slither into my top, and twist both my nipples. I lean back against him, and a groan escapes my mouth as his lips press against the line of my throat. He rolls his hips, letting me feel his swelling cock. His movements nudge the butt plug I’ve got secretly pushed up my ass.

“No,” he says. “They don’t deserve to see you like I do.”

“And George says I’m the possessive one,” I say with a smirk that quickly falls with another grinding motion against my ass. “How late are we?”

“Pretty late. But before we leave, can you promise me something?”

“Yeah, whatever.” With my cock throbbing and the plug nudging my prostate, he can’t expect me to think straight.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful how?”

“We’re going to this party for one reason only. There’s no need to stay longer than we have to and no need to make this a bigger problem than it is.”

“Why would I cause a problem?”

He meets my gaze in the mirror, giving me a pointed look.

I roll my eyes. “You’re always so fucking paranoid. Simmer down; it’ll be fine. Fun, even.”

“We’ll see about that. You’ve got the money, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me.”

“Fine.” I pinch the rolled-up hundred-dollar bills out of my pocket.

“I’m surprised they fit in there,” he says with a smirk, sliding his hands up and down my sides. He noses into my neck. Pinches my hips. When he slots his crotch to my ass, I gasp as his movement nudges the plug deeper inside me.

“How’s that ass healing up?” he asks.

“See for yourself.”

He unzips me, and since I’m going commando, all the fabric he has to pull down is my pants.

“Red?” I ask.

He strokes my sore ass cheeks with his callused palms and reaches the handle of the plug that sticks out of my body. “Oh, baby,” he grunts. “What’s this?”

Baby? My mouth wants to smile, but I turn it forcefully into a pout. “It was supposed to be a surprise. For when we get home.” I gasp as he pulls at the plug, making the flared end push against my sensitive rim.

“You wanted to be all stretched and ready for me?”

“Yeah, but . . . Fuck, we’re late already,” I say, but my protest gets lost in the breathiness of my voice.

“Come on.” His gaze is fixed to where he’s fucking the plug in and out of me. He seems mesmerized by it. Every time the thickest part passes, I can’t help but moan. It’s my biggest plug, yet it still isn’t as thick as his cock. He pauses the plug at the widest part and traces my stretched rim with a finger. “Tennyson’s waited five years for that money. I think he can wait a little longer.”

“Don’t blame me when he and his biker friends chop us into little pieces and throw us into Blackwater Lake.”

“It’s worth the risk, don’t you think?”

To me it’s worth the risk, sure, but I didn’t think the same goes for Daniel. I’m not sure how serious he is though. As for me, I’m deadly serious; I’d die to get fucked, but I wouldn’t want him to go down with me. Or would I? I snort out a laugh, and the porcelain is cool against my hands as I bend toward the sink.

Daniel pulls the plug out and immediately replaces it with two fingers. He scissors them inside me, stretching my lubed-up hole.

I whimper at the sudden, demanding pleasure. “Oh fuck . . .”

“Yeah, you’re ready, all right. Back up a bit. Spread those cheeks like I know you like to do.” He grabs the lube I keep in the bathroom for douching purposes and slicks himself up. Without much preamble, he aligns our bodies and pushes inside me.

I groan at the slight burn. “You got over your condom policy real fast.”

He slides his hand into my hair and grips it sharply. “Look into the mirror. See what you look like when you’re getting fucked.”

I already know what I look like when I’m getting fucked. In San Francisco, I hooked up with a rich guy with a ceiling mirror above his bed, and I stared up at myself while he pounded me all night long in a meth-infused frenzy.

I do what Daniel says anyway and face my reflection. It’s distorted from the diagonal crack running in the middle of the mirror, courtesy of one of my mom’s many drunken outbursts.

Daniel maneuvers my knee to the edge of the sink, and the new angle allows him to hit my prostate with ruthless precision. He knows I’ll go damn near delirious from this pretty quickly. I’ll let him do anything to me, make me say anything . . .

It’s insane how fast he’s adjusted to the way I need to get fucked. Although I’d prefer for him to hurt me more, to degrade me more, he makes up for it with how he swivels his hips and buries himself to the hilt, his possessive grip on my body, and the filthy things he growls into my ear.

But he doesn’t fuck me like he hates me, and that’s a bit of a problem. Instead of making me hate him, he makes me go soft with want, and instead of letting me give him orders, he makes me want to obey his every command.

Not that I care that much with his cock buried in my ass and his hand wrapped around my aching dick, but every time after he’s wrenched the cum from my body and his own release seeps out of my ass, I feel weird.

Like I’ve given too much of myself away.

Like I’ve exposed a part of myself that’s not meant to be exposed.

Like he’s turned me inside out and exposed my quivering, raw insides.

And that’s not a good feeling.

It’s like cutting your chest open and putting your heart on offer for him to take and examine in his hand.

But Daniel won’t treat it badly—he won’t pluck it out of my chest and drag it through the dirt . . . Right?

He buries his face in the crook of my neck as he pounds into me, and my stiff cock bobs between my legs with every thrust.

“I’m gonna plug you back up when we’re done,” he grunts, “so you can walk around that party with my cum still inside you. I want you to wear this too.” He kisses down my throat and sucks my skin into his mouth, biting and sucking slowly, tongue flicking out to taste my sweat. “Those people should know who you belong to.”

All the while, he keeps pounding me, his balls slapping against my thighs. He pulls out and slams back inside, and with a harsh grip on my hair, he urges my head to the side and covers my lips with his. I moan into his mouth.

God, I love this . . .

I love him.

Wait . . .

No. No, no, no . . .

My eyes are wide as saucers as I stare into the mirror, and my erection wanes. Luckily Daniel doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the pace and squeezes my cock in his hand, and soon enough I’m able to relax again. When his teeth graze my skin, I shoot into his hand and all over the sink. Easy cleanup, I think distantly as the orgasm pulses through me. He follows soon after, emptying himself inside. With one swift motion, he pulls out and slides the butt plug back into my now looser hole, keeping his cum inside me.

As he pulls my pants back up, an unbidden thought creeps back into my mind. That stuff about . . . about loving him.

It didn’t mean anything. It was just my dick talking. I was about to come, and you think the weirdest, most fucked-up shit when you’re about to come. Yeah, that’s it for sure.

But the uneasy, out-of-control feeling stays, and the whole time we get ready to leave, I can barely meet his eyes.

The feeling lingers even half an hour later when we exit the car.

My veins burn with adrenaline. I feel restless and antsy, as if I’ve already spent six hours snorting cocaine. Some coke isn’t a half-bad idea; it might help with my nerves.

Even the butt plug doesn’t seem as fun of an idea as it once did. I feel it with every movement, and each time it nudges my prostate, my cock jumps in my pants. In different circumstances, being half-hard for the remainder of the night would be fun.

Music and voices boom through the thin walls of Joshua’s house. Inside, there will be people I haven’t seen in years. Old classmates, old enemies. People who teased and tormented me, whether for my poverty, my faggotry, or my ever-running foul mouth. Little did they know I was already used to dealing with far worse than school bullies.

One day in fifth grade, I had enough of their bullshit. I socked a kid right in the mouth and knocked half his teeth out. They ended up transferring me to Daniel’s school for it. If I hadn’t hit that kid, I might have never met Daniel, and then where would I have ended up? Nowhere good, that’s for sure. Best decision I ever made.

Bikes and cars litter the overgrown lawn, and a Rottweiler tied to a hook in the wall is barking like mad. A bouncer stands by the entrance: a Wolverine-looking dude who seems vaguely familiar, with a leather vest and dark sideburns.

I make a beeline toward the dog.

“Hey,” the bouncer says warningly, “stay away from him, he’s a beast.”

I kneel and reach out a hand to the dog, fingers folded into my palm in case he lunges for a bite. He doesn’t. When I come within reach, his shoulders slump, and his tail starts a tentative wag.

“You look scary, but you’re just scared, aren’t you?” I scratch behind his ear and take his face in my hands, rubbing him up and down his sides. “All those noises and people freak you out, huh? It’s okay.”

“Nate,” Daniel calls. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry, buddy,” I tell the dog. There’s nothing I can do for him. I ignore the uncomfortable feeling it leaves me with and march toward the entrance with Daniel beside me.

The bouncer stops us with an outstretched hand. “Not so fast.” His gaze roams over me, from my slutty outfit up to my face, and his eyes widen in recognition.

Oh. It’s that biker from Moe’s—the one I tried to hook up with before Daniel cockblocked us. Feels like ages have passed since then, but I suppose it hasn’t been that long.

The biker shoots Daniel a glare, and I don’t blame him. For this man, Daniel will forever be remembered as the guy who robbed him of a fuck. I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I’d gone with him instead. Well, it’s not that hard to figure out. After I’d used him up, I would’ve fucked my way through town, accepting anyone who would have me. After that, I’m not so sure, but one thing I do know: I wouldn’t have bothered to be here, paying off my debt. Hell, I might not have been anywhere .

I take Daniel’s hand and look up into the biker’s face with a challenge in my eyes. “Gonna let us in or what? Joshua’s expecting us.”

The biker scowls, but he steps aside and opens the door.

We’re in. The living room is huge and sprawling. Music blares from low-quality speakers, and dozens of people are dancing, while others sit on sunken couches, snorting lines of cocaine.

I start moving toward the couches. “I wanna try some of that.”

Daniel grabs my shoulder. “No, you don’t.” He pulls me close, his breath hot against my ear. “Keep walking.” His possessive hand on my lower back as he leads me through the crowd should annoy me, but the opposite is true; it turns me the fuck on.

“Let’s at least get a beer.” I fish one up from an ice-filled barrel and flick it open. Daniel accepts, and I get one of my own. I chug it down while feeling people’s stares at us.

Their eyes are judging, attracted, disgusted, intrigued. Women and men alike. A few guys with girlfriends stop and gawk at me. I give them a wink, but as soon as I do, I feel weird.

Long ago, I lost count of how many men I’ve slept with. Likewise, I’ve lost count of how many of them had girlfriends or wives. I know exactly what to say and how to act to get a guy’s attention—even guys who claim they are straight. Funnily enough, Daniel’s the one I’ve had to fight for the most to get into bed. Maybe that’s why I can look at these men and not feel a single stir in my pants at the thought of sleeping with them. As I wade through the crowd with Daniel by my side, all I want is him. All I need is him.

I sling my arms around his neck. “Come on, dance with me.”

“Let’s find Joshua first, then I’ll dance with you.”

Way to ruin my mood, but I suppose he’s right. I lead us into a second, smaller room where the music isn’t quite as loud. Joshua sits on a couch with a group of his asshole friends: bikers, like the bouncer, but these are older, with hard-set, grim expressions and beards reaching down to their chests.

Joshua stands. “Look who decided to show up.” He turns around the room with his hands splayed wide in a cocky gesture. “You like what I’ve done with the place?”

I roll my eyes. Dude’s playing kingpin, but he’s really just a cog in the wheel—a small player in a tiny pond. He wouldn’t stand a chance in a bigger town.

“You mean how it’s even more of a dump than it was? Yeah, sure. Real cute.”

I feel Daniel tense up next to me. Don’t worry, babe , I want to tell him. I’ve got this.

Back when we were small-time dealers ourselves, Daniel knew better than to get himself involved with Joshua. I didn’t plan on it either, but after Daniel and I had our first falling-out after that game of spin the bottle . . . Well, I suppose I flipped out a little bit. I started hanging out here with all sorts of sleazy people. Did shit I’m not proud of. At least the money I made came in handy later on.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Joshua says. “Chop, chop. Five years is long enough, don’t you think?”

My fingers clench and unclench. Part of me wants to offer him a different deal. A deal that involves me working for him. I had it all planned out in the back of my head—how I’d make my choice if I got the right vibes for it.

But now . . . I glance at Daniel, and the urgency in his eyes makes me wince. Much like how I won’t hit George because it would piss off Daniel, I won’t entangle myself with Joshua again because Daniel would disapprove.

Gee, look at me being all righteous and shit. Does Daniel even know how fucking special he is? No one in the world can make me go against my own interests like this. No one but Daniel. Anything for him.

I squeeze my hand into my back pocket and fish up the tightly packed roll of bills.

Joshua’s hollow-set eyes light up when I pack them into his palm. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I started thinking you were gonna dupe me again.”

“Dupe you how?” I ask in an innocent tone, already bored of the situation.

Joshua shrugs as he counts the money. “I don’t know. Disappear again. Ride off into the sunset with your boy toy Hastings.”

Daniel crosses his arms. “Are we done here?”

Joshua gives me a look, not quite a smile. “Now that the nasty business is out of the way, why don’t you guys stay for a bit?”

“Here?” I glance around the room. My eyes fix on the sunken leather couch, where a girl is snorting coke off an ancient-looking porn mag. She looks barely legal. Beside her sits one of the bikers, maybe even the president. A gun glimmers on the table in front of him. “No, thanks.”

“Well, if you ever wanna party, you know where to go,” Joshua says. “Or if you’re just looking to make some friends.”

I know exactly what he means by “friends.” Can see it all play out like a movie in my mind. Instead of the girl, it’s me on that couch, drunk and high out of my mind, kneeling between someone’s legs, sucking dick for another fix. If Daniel hadn’t been part of my life, that’s probably where I would’ve ended up.

Bleak, but I’ve been through worse.

Daniel puts a hand on the small of my back. “We’re not interested.”

Joshua walks up to me, brushes a strand of hair from my neck, and smirks as he reveals my hickey.

“Don’t touch him,” Daniel growls.

Joshua backs away. “Do you know yet?”

“Know what?”

Joshua nods to me. “About the skeletons he’s hiding in the closet.”

A chill runs down my spine.

“Would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?” Joshua continues. “Who knows what went on out there?”

Daniel steps in front of me, fists clenched. “What are you saying?”

I’d find the edge to his voice hot as fuck if my heart weren’t pounding so damn hard. Joshua doesn’t know . . . does he? No, there’s no way, but he’ll give Daniel ideas, and that’s bad enough.

“Daniel, let’s go,” I say, grabbing his arm.

Joshua’s ugly laugh echoes behind us. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As we pass the hallway and into the main room, Daniel hisses into my ear, “What was that about?”

“What?” My pulse is still through the roof, but I work to keep my voice steady and my face a mask of arrogance.

“That stuff he said. About skeletons or whatever.”

I swallow against the knot in my throat. The noises from the party are suddenly overwhelming. “You’ve heard about the rumors, right? That my grandpa is also my pa.”

“Is that what he meant?”

“Meth heads, man,” I say with a stiff shrug. “Be spinning all sorts of tales. Don’t read into it too much.”

“Is it true?”

“Come on, I thought I told you. Grandpa used to slap my mom around, sure, but he never did anything like that. She got knocked up in LA.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Do the math, dude. She ran away at sixteen and was gone for over a year before she showed back up on his doorstep.” When Daniel stays silent, I scowl and add, “What, you don’t believe me? Ask Ennis. He even helped deliver me onto that rotten-ass floor. I’m not a fucking incest baby, Daniel. Thanks a lot for thinking I am.”

“I didn’t. I’m just trying to . . .” He sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you better be. Hope you’re planning to fuck my brains out when we get home.”

“I thought you wanted to dance.”

We pass the dance floor, where sweaty bodies move to the offbeat techno. Ten minutes ago I would’ve been stoked to join them.

“Nah, this place sucks. Let’s go home.” I move toward the exit, but Daniel doesn’t budge.

He’s got his eyes on a mousy-haired girl who’s staring straight at him. “Lydia.”

“Daniel. How’ve you been?” She’s got a heavy-lidded, dazed look to her eyes. Drunk? Or high?

I slide my arm around Daniel’s waist from behind and peer at her. “Who’s this?”

“Daniel hasn’t told you about me?”

“Obviously not.”

“A month ago, Daniel and I were dating. But I see his preferences have changed.”

I give her a once-over. “Yeah. For the better too.”

She bristles, hands on her hips. “And who are you if I may ask?”

“Uh, this is Nathan.” Daniel tries to disentangle himself from my hold, but I cling to him like a baby koala. “We—”

“We go way back,” I cut in. “So back off; he’s mine.”

Lydia stares at Daniel with an are you serious? expression before she says, “Well, good luck with him,” and disappears into the crowd.

Daniel grabs my arm and wrenches me off him. “That was necessary as fuck. What am I going to do about you?”

“You could always try fucking me into submission,” I say sweetly.

“Already tried it.”

“Try harder.”

He glares at me, and I smirk at him. This is all just a part of the game. He fucks me best when he’s annoyed with me—pins me to the bed and takes me without mercy. My ass clenches around the plug at the thought, and my cock pulses in my pants.

We move toward the exit. At the other end of the room, Lydia is talking to a tattooed man with a bald head and heavy-lidded eyes.

Eric Fletcher.

Oh no . . . Not him. Not here.

I grab Daniel’s arm, but he’s already on the prowl. Eric watches us approach, a dark smile on his lips.

I haven’t seen him since . . . Since that night.

I drank from a cup he handed me, and the next thing I knew, I landed on a bed with hands holding me down and a body on top of mine. A door slammed open, followed by the dull, fleshy sound of a fist hitting a jaw. Eric and Tyler ran off, and someone else walked toward me . . .

I was gone, on autopilot, unknowing and unfeeling, but I did know this: Me naked in a bed with a guy equaled sex. That’s all my mind could compute.

The morning after, when I realized what had happened, I panicked. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Daniel was meant to be different; he was meant to be safe.

But he wasn’t, and nothing would ever be safe again . . .

“Don’t!” I yell in his ear over the music. “Let’s just leave.” But he doesn’t hear me, or he doesn’t care, and soon we’re in front of Eric and his friends.

“So it’s true,” Eric says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Joshua told me you were back in town.”

Daniel jerks his head toward Lydia. “What the hell are you doing with her?”

“Oh, we’re just hanging out. Already got her hooked on dope, the little slut. She was so easy, I almost feel sorry for her. But whores should be treated like whores. You’d know all about that, though, wouldn’t you, Hastings?”

“What?” Daniel grits out.

Eric smirks and points a finger at me. “It’s plain for everyone here to see that he’s your whore.”

“He’s not my whore.”

“No, I suppose he’s not yours per se—he’ll fuck anyone who’ll have him.”

“He wouldn’t have you .”

Right . . . Daniel thinks Eric and Tyler roofied me and pulled me into that bedroom because I’d rejected them, but that’s not it. No—a week earlier, I’d tricked them both out of a hundred bucks, and they figured a brutal ass-fucking was a fitting punishment for a faggot like me.

It made sense that they wanted me pliant for the deed; I can really fuck shit up if I want to. Little did they know, I would’ve gotten off on their punishment if they’d just given me a chance to agree to it. In the end, I suppose it was more about their need to dominate me. They didn’t want me to enjoy it; they wanted me to suffer.

Eric uncrosses his arms and takes a step closer. “No, but you took your liberties with him, didn’t you, Hastings?”

I tug on Daniel’s shirt, and in a voice so thin I can barely hear myself over the music, I say, “I wanna go home.”

“Yeah,” says Eric, “listen to your whore.”

“Fuck you,” Daniel snarls and grabs my hand, and we wade through the crowd.

“You run, Hastings,” Eric yells behind us. “You were always a little bitch. Fitting, isn’t it? A bitch and a whore.” I hear the snickers of his friends as we squeeze into the hallway and exit through the front door.

Daniel spins to me. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been off ever since we talked to Joshua.”

I sneer at him, chest clenching tight with an aggressive anxiety I can’t help but show. “Well, I did just flush four grand down the toilet, and then we ran into your little girlfriend—”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

“—and then you decided to have a little chitchat with a guy who fucking roofied me, maybe that’s why.”

“Eric deserves worse than a talking-to.”

“I don’t want you to get killed.”

“What, you don’t think I can take him?”

I frown and shake my head. “That guy’s dangerous, Daniel. He used to carry knives to school and shit. Fuck, just please believe me, okay? And take me home. If you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a plug up my ass, and I’ve been half-hard ever since we got here.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you better be,” I mutter.

After he’s taken me home, he proceeds to eat me out for damn near an hour, but something feels off between us. I can’t put my finger on it. I find his face in the darkness and try to convert my kisses into words.

Please don’t read any more into what Joshua said.

Don’t investigate. Don’t look into it.

Believe me. Please believe me.