Page 10

Rafael

I took a moment to mime a chef’s kiss in response to the un-fucking-believable gift that landed on my lap before hopping out of bed and getting dressed. What’s this spring in my step?

This was good. Cody may have won round two, but I knew what to do for round three.

Never did I suspect Cody of having those kinds of feelings—I didn’t know he was interesting enough to be gay or bi or whatever. He’d come off as such a wound-up noob during the wedding. He followed his mother like a puppy, swooping in and doing whatever she needed like a little kiss-ass. His mask of devotion barely hid the contempt he felt, though. Nobody would ever notice, but I looked closer than your average idiot. I could see the exhaustion in Cody’s eyes. The slightest tremble of Jill’s voice put him on high alert. He maneuvered like a seasoned soldier, assessing the situation and formulating a tactical response to minimize damage. He looked so over it.

Fury must have clouded my more intuitive senses, because I never got the inkling that Cody had any feelings other than contempt for me. Did I miss him looking at me like he wanted to lick the salt off my balls? Well, I did ruin the wedding, so maybe I didn’t allow him to lust after me with reckless abandon.

Cody’s Bambi-like eyes turned hungry and dark. He practically drooled while creepily staring at me. Who could blame him?

I’d mainly messed around with girls, but I didn’t care about dudes being gay. I was a modern man for fuck’s sake—not some Joe Rogan incel who panicked and turned fascist when he realized he might like having his prostate prodded. Truth be told, I was kind of curious. Bucky sucked me off once when we were both rolling on molly, and neither of us said a word about it the next day. He had a wet mouth, and I had a hard dick. Ergo, fellatio.

But, perfect fucking Cody with his self-righteousness looking at me like I could have told him to get on his knees right there in the hall and swallow my load was just too good. What was that coughing fit? I almost laughed as he stood there choking to death in my doorway. I can use this.

I knew from the car ride that the way to Hank’s demise was through his wife and stepson, but I had to be subtle about it. I couldn’t just unleash an all-out assault on them. I needed to be lowkey or my ass would wind up in military school. At first, I thought I’d target Jill. Stalk the weaker prey. I could tell she was one fry short of a Happy Meal at the wedding—it would be easy, but buttoned-up little Cody would be a far greater challenge. I could sink my teeth into that. Into him.

This would be so much better than just beating the hell out of him. It would be subtle. Secretive. He wouldn’t go running to mommy and stepdaddy, and this would truly destroy the family. Stepbrothers boning? One breaking the other’s heart? Oh, it was just too good. I’d never used my sexual prowess to dominate another dude before. The idea of it invigorated me.

I’d peel every layer away from that control freak and expose all his vulnerabilities. I’d have Cody Bramble eating out of the palm of my fucking hands—lapping up whatever scraps I gave him. He’d beg for more. I’d push him until I cracked his rock-hard, priggish shell and turned him into a pulsating mess of emotions and need, and then BAM! I nearly drooled thinking of those big brown eyes breaking to pieces once he realized it was all an act. I’d get him in the most vulnerable position imaginable, and then pour the acid of my ire all over him. He’d be scarred, and I’d win. Hank’s little family would be in tatters.

I bounced down the stairs with more vim and vigor than I had any right to until I passed an entire wall curio filled with those awful, precious moments figurines. You know, the figurines of the little kids with the sad eyes? This house can’t be parodied. It took every ounce of strength I had not to projectile vomit on the thing. I made sure to avert my gaze from the mantel. I was not getting distracted this time. I had an agenda and needed to focus.

The Cleavers sat at the dining room table; the only open chair was across from Cody.

Perfect.

I sauntered over and plastered on a cheerful grin, which I had been told once was more unsettling than my scowl.

Jill outdid herself. A whole roasted chicken, perfectly sliced, sat at the center, accompanied by roasted potatoes, sautéed spinach, a macaroni salad, a regular salad, and an entire pitcher of lemonade. I certainly won’t starve here. I laughed at how hard she was trying. If only she knew she cooked this entire feast for me to turn around and sully her perfect little son.

We sat in awkward silence for quite some time. Finally, Jill said, “So, are you settling in, Rafael?”

I’ve been here for all of twenty-four hours, babe. “Absolutely,” I responded. “Thank you again for welcoming me on such short notice.”

That one got them. Both Jill and Hank smiled like they had Vaseline smeared on their teeth. A little more charm, and Operation Destroy Cody would commence. I wanted them to think I was a good boy, so the shock of shattering their little angel would hurt even more. “And this food is delicious. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal like this in ages. Rita is so busy with her work.”

Actors call this “chewing the scenery.” I was mugging with a capital M . Jill looked happy enough to sprout wings and take flight. Even Hank chuckled. Cody looked ashen. I cursed Jill in my mind for not cooking kielbasa or hot dogs—something shaft-like.

But there was still fun to be had.

I inched my foot closer to Cody, searching for his as I tapped about. There he is . Our feet met, and I lifted my foot to caress his ankle. The look on his face was priceless. Confusion evolved into horror when he saw the look in my eyes. Nope. Not an accident, Golden Boy.

Hank cleared his throat. “You took a nice, long nap. Hope the room is comfortable.”

God, could this conversation get any more mundane? What’s next? The weather?

I nodded my approval of the room. Luckily, I had Cody nearby to torture, or I would have died of boredom. How could anyone possibly expect me to get through a dinner like this sober?

My foot inched up Cody’s leg, whose breath hitched the tiniest bit. I found his knee and sat my foot on the top of his thigh. His eyes bulged and his forehead turned shiny. This is what makes life worth living.

Jill took the conversation baton. “I hear you’re a big fan of hockey?”

I nodded with forced excitement. “Yes. I love hockey. I’m hoping the school here has a team I can join.” Cody’s leg trembled under the table.

“Well, how about a traveling team? Cody plays with the Vipers!”

I knew all the traveling teams in the Northeast, and the Vipers were no joke. Their tryouts were notoriously rough, and the coach had a reputation for cutting the weak without a second thought. It kind of pissed me off that Cody played for such an elite team. I bet he’d already met a few college scouts. Fucker.

I looked into Cody’s eyes, daring him to make a sound about the goings-on beneath the table as I pressed my foot into his crotch and kept it there. To my delight, a bulge grew beneath my foot. So, I didn’t imagine what I saw upstairs. Cody Bramble, my mother fucking stepbrother, had a boner for me.

Cody looked so red I thought he might have stopped breathing. Then I noticed my bulge. I hadn’t expected that. Fuck, watching him squirm is really doing it for me.

Cody cleared his throat and tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled mess of syllables.

“Cody, maybe Rafael could join the Vipers? You’re down a man, aren’t you?” Hank asked. “Thompson moved to California.”

I ignored the sting of Hank knowing members of his stepson’s hockey team while never giving a shit about mine and focused on the performance. I widened my eyes to the size of flying saucers and gave my best gee willikers routine. “Really? Do you think there’s room on the team?” I looked to Cody for an answer while pulsing my foot against his raging hard on. I gave it a good press, and he almost yelped. Moan for me, baby.

Cody didn’t answer. Heaping droplets of sweat poured down his face. God, the boy was fun to fuck with.

“Well, hon? Do you think the coach would let him try out?” Jill asked.

Hank chimed in. “I’ll call him tomorrow and explain the situation. He’s a hardass, but I’ll wow him with some of your stats, Raf.” Don’t call me Raf. And how do you know my stats?

“Is it hot in here?” Jill questioned. “You look flushed, Cody.”

It’s hot all right. Cody finally spit out a coherent sentence. “We’re having tryouts, but he’s already picked his top six. A lot of guys have waited a long time for that opportunity. I don’t think a new player would get much time on the ice.”

Oh, I liked that. Already trying to create distance. No way in hell, Golden Boy. “I understand that some guys have waited a long time for their moment. I don’t need to be in the top six.” Make no mistake, I would be in the top three. I was a fucking work of art on the ice and any coach would kill to have me. “I just want a shot, you know?” I fluttered my eyelashes like Bugs Bunny in drag.

“That’s a fine mentality to have, Raf.” Don’t call me Raf, asshole. “Plus, you’re a bruiser on the ice. I’m sure you’d do just fine at tryouts.” Hank beamed with pride, and I clenched my jaw to stop my snarl.

“Thanks,” I replied. No matter how much of an act this was, I refused to call him Dad.

Jill released a big sigh of relief. “Well, this is nice. Here we are, all having a lovely conversation.”

“You weren’t very talkative at dinner yesterday, Raf. We were a little worried,” Hank added.

That’s because I could barely sit upright in my chair. “I think it was just all so new. I felt awkward.” I should have gone into acting. This was a performance for the ages.

Jill actually reached out and held my hand. “Don’t feel awkward. This will be great, and I think the two of you will be real pals.”

I looked at Cody. By now both feet were working their magic—his cock wedged between them as I slid my feet up and down his shaft.

Cody’s eyes rolled in the back of his head for a moment before he slammed two fists against the table and yelled, “Well!” He took a breath and schooled his features before adding, “I’ll collect some of these empty plates.” He grabbed a plate and strategically placed it in front of the tent in his pants as he grabbed more dishes.

Jill put her hand up in protest. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I can take care of it, honey.”

“I don’t mind. I like helping,” Cody replied.

BARF. Two could play that game. “I’ll help too. It’s the least I can do. Thanks again for putting me up on such short notice.”

Hank and Jill smiled. “No need to thank us,” Jill protested.

“I meant what I said, son. It’s good to have you here.” Hank gave me a meaningful smile that crinkled his eyes.

We’ll see about that.

I smiled back, grabbed a few dishes, and followed Cody into the kitchen. He dropped a fork before the sink and bent to pick it up.

As he straightened, I leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I love when you stick that fat ass out for me. Bend over again, Golden Boy. Show me what I want.”

The look on his face. Gold. No, platinum. Titanium! Whatever precious metal was the most expensive. More than that. I couldn’t imagine those chocolate brown eyes getting any wider. His mouth fell open, and his hot breath brushed my face, chest heaving as he gawked at me.

He narrowed his eyes at me, leaned in, and hissed, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Mmm, there’s that dirty mouth again. Someone should give you a spanking for that.”

I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. His strong shoulders shook. Cody was built like a brick. Whereas I had a tall, lean, muscular build, he was a tad shorter and curvy in all the right spots. I didn’t mind not hating his body while I played my games.

Cody took a few steps back, then yelled to Hank and Jill, “I’m bushed. Gonna head up.”

“No dessert, honey?”

Cody shook his head as he passed the dining room table, trying desperately not to run to his bedroom.

His parents looked at me, and I shrugged in response. “Must have overeaten.”

I was living.