Just a Bit Twisted (6 page)

“You’re right,” Rutledge said. “Liking to suck another man’s dick doesn’t make you gay.”

“Stop mocking me.”

“I’m not mocking you.”

They looked at each other in silence.

Shawn moistened his lips with a swipe of his tongue.

Rutledge lifted his hand and stroked Shawn’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Shawn stayed very still, barely breathing.

Rutledge slowly pushed the thumb into his mouth, gently parting Shawn’s lips, as they continued to stare at each other. Shawn tentatively brushed the tip of his tongue over the thumb and then...

He sucked.

Rutledge inhaled sharply. He began to push and pull his thumb in and out of Shawn’s mouth, all the while looking him in the eye. It made Shawn blush—he was sucking on his professor’s thumb, for fuck’s sake—but god help him, he was loving it, the inside of his mouth tingling. He couldn’t stop sucking. He wanted to keep sucking on it.

He made a small noise when Rutledge removed his thumb.

“Definitely oral fixation,” Rutledge murmured before leaning in and replacing his thumb with his tongue.

Several minutes later, Shawn found himself on the grass, with Rutledge’s heavy body on top of him. He was moaning as he sucked greedily on Rutledge’s tongue, his hands buried in the man’s hair. He couldn’t pretend anymore that he didn’t enjoy this, so he didn’t try to suppress his sighs and moans of pleasure as Rutledge thoroughly fucked his mouth with his tongue.

“You’re noisy,” Rutledge grunted, nipping along Shawn’s jawline and down his neck.

Shawn felt too disoriented to answer and only pulled him back to his lips. He wanted more kisses. He needed more kisses.

Rutledge obliged, kissing him deeply, his hand fumbling between them, doing…something.

Shawn’s eyes widened when he felt Rutledge wrap his hand around both of their cocks. He tensed. He was hard. He was
hard
.

“Forget about labels, goddammit,” Rutledge said and started stroking them fast, kissing Shawn deeper and dirtier.

Shawn could do nothing but moan. He was too far gone to protest. He wanted to come. Before he could stop himself, he started moving his hips, meeting Rutledge’s strokes, feeling Rutledge’s cock rub against his, and fuck, the mere thought—it was wrong and arousing all at once.

It didn’t take long. They weren’t even kissing now—more like trying to swallow each other, lips and teeth biting and sucking. Shawn rolled a little and hooked one leg up over Rutledge’s, bracing them together. Fire burned through him in a white-hot glow, and he could feel it gathering in his belly, spreading outward in streaks. He felt Rutledge growl, low and rough, shuddering as he came, sticky wet heat pooling between them. A few more strokes and Shawn was coming too, moaning and clawing at Rutledge’s back.

He opened his eyes slowly and found Rutledge already on his feet, zipping his pants up.

Realizing his cock was still out in the open, Shawn quickly tucked himself in and zipped up, his fingers shaking.

He could hear Rutledge walk back to the car. “One of them is awake.”

Shawn got to his feet. “Them?” he said, still unable to think about anything besides the fact that he’d just had sex with a man.

“One of the children,” Rutledge said, getting into the driver’s seat. The way Rutledge said the word “children,” he could as well be talking about aliens. It almost made Shawn smile. Almost.

Shawn walked to the car and took his seat.

Bee was still asleep, but Emily wasn’t. She was sucking on her thumb sleepily, looking between Shawn and Rutledge. “You weren’t here when I woke up.”

Shawn leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. Were you scared?”

“I’m not a baby,” Emily said. “I’m big. We’re there already?”

“No,” Shawn said.

“Then why did the car stop?”

Shawn cleared his throat. How was he supposed to answer that? “Because Mr. Rutledge and I needed to talk.”

Rutledge started the engine.

Emily yawned. “Why couldn’t you talk in the car?”

“Because—because we didn’t want to wake you up.”

Emily frowned but seemed to accept the explanation. Her eyes started closing again.

Breathing out, Shawn turned away from her and looked at the passing scenery.

“Put on the seatbelt,” Rutledge ordered after a while.

Shawn put on the seatbelt and muttered, “Control freak.”

“So are you done freaking out?” Rutledge’s tone was sardonic.

“I wasn’t freaking out.” Realizing he said it a bit too loud, Shawn lowered his voice. “Why would I? So you gave me a hand-job. Big deal. I haven’t had sex in ages, and you know kissing turns me on.”

Rutledge said nothing and returned his gaze to the road, his face completely unreadable.

Shawn studied him. “You know, I’m curious about something,” he murmured. “Why me? Why do you pay me an obscene amount of money for a few blowjobs? You don’t even need to pay for sex. I’m sure lots of gay men would gladly have sex with you. I mean, it’s not like you’re ugly or something. So why me?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Nope. I’m genuinely curious.”

“I wanted to fuck you since the moment you entered my classroom a few months ago. It’s as simple as that.”

Shawn moistened his lips, his stomach doing a little flip-flop. “You wanted me for that long?”

Rutledge snorted, without looking at him. “I wasn’t pining or anything, Wyatt. I wanted to get my dick in you. You’re just my type.”

“Blond?”

“No. I don’t mean your looks. If we go by looks alone, your friend, Ashford, is more my type than you.”

Shawn’s gut clenched. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Christian was extremely attractive. Hell, everyone was attracted to him. And with his dark brown hair, expressive brown eyes and sensual red lips, he was Shawn’s complete opposite. Shawn always felt pale and washed out next to his friend.

“So if it was Christian who offered sex for a grade, you’d do it?”

Rutledge shot him a strange look. “No.”

The muscles in Shawn’s gut unclenched. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck him,” Rutledge said crudely. He was starting to look irritated, for some reason. “Finding someone physically attractive is not the same thing as wanting them.”

“So what did you mean when you said I’m your type?”

Rutledge was quiet for so long Shawn started to think he wasn’t going to reply at all.

There was a touch of self-deprecation in his voice when he spoke, “It’s all very cliché. When I was in school, I was a stereotypical unpopular nerd.”

“Really?” Looking at this self-assured, arrogant man, Shawn had trouble believing that.

“Of course I was. I got my PhD at twenty-three, Wyatt. I didn’t exactly have the time to socialize with people.”

“That explains a lot,” Shawn muttered. “Let me guess: there was a popular jock you had a crush on and I look like him?”

“He looked nothing like you.”

“Then how is that relevant?”

“If you stop interrupting me, you’ll find out.” Rutledge’s lips curled. “He was the stereotypical popular jock. Obviously straight as an arrow and acted like he owned the world, and I wanted… I looked at him and imagined forcing my dick down his throat. Imagined holding him down and making him beg to be fucked. Making a straight boy beg for my cock.”

Shawn swallowed and glanced at the girls to make sure they were asleep. “Where are you going with this?”

Rutledge shrugged slightly, his eyes on the road. “Pretty, straight, and unattainable: that’s pretty much my type. If you let me fuck you, I’ll get bored of you. I always get bored of them.”

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest, feeling cold all of a sudden.

“Who’s done it to you?” he asked at last, looking at the passing countryside. It was getting dark.

“What?”

“Someone fucked you up.” Shawn turned his head to him. “It’s not healthy to enter into relationships knowing they’re doomed to fail—that you would lose interest in the guy after you fuck him. And it’s really fucked up to have straight, unattainable guys as your type. Are you afraid of commitment? Or of something else?”

Rutledge’s jaw was clenched so tightly that the cords on his neck stood out. “Spare me your pseudo-psychological analysis. The explanation is actually much simpler: I just like corrupting and fucking straight boys. It turns me on. And before you call me an asshole: I’m always honest with them. Most bi-curious ‘straight’ guys eventually want to go back to their straight lives anyway, and I don’t do long-term relationships. So it’s a win-win for everyone involved. No strings attached.”

“Why don’t you do long-term relationships? You’re thirty-three.”

“And?” Rutledge said. “I’m not the kind of man who wants the white picket fence and 2.5 kids.”

Shawn glanced at Emily and Bee. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I always thought gay guys weren’t much different from straight guys and would want to settle down eventually. Even Christian wants that.”

“Christian?” Rutledge looked slightly puzzled.

Shawn frowned. “My best friend?”

“Ah. You mean Ashford.”

“Seriously? You don’t know his name?”

“Why would I want to know his first name? He’s my student.”

“I’m your student, too, Professor.”

Rutledge looked at him, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Who says I know your first name, Wyatt?”

Shawn laughed softly. “Okay. For your information, it’s Simon.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“A-ha!”

Shaking his head, Rutledge looked back at the road. “I obviously know your name, but I don’t think of you as Shawn.”

“Fair enough. I don’t think of you as Derek, either.” Even saying the name aloud was a bit strange, actually. Shawn rolled the name on his tongue. Derek. Nope. Rutledge was Rutledge. Shawn would be very worried the day he started thinking of Rutledge as Derek.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Rutledge murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Now come here and kiss me.”

Shawn blinked. “What? You’re driving.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Rutledge said dryly, without looking at him.

“Are you serious?”

“You should know by now I’m always serious. I’m losing my patience.”

Shawn looked at Rutledge’s lips and said, “Okay.”

He scooted over.

Rutledge turned his head slightly, put his hand on Shawn’s nape and kissed him. Shawn sighed and started sucking on Rutledge’s tongue.

After… some time later, Rutledge bit Shawn’s bottom lip for the last time and pushed him away.

“You should let me fuck you,” he said grimly.

Leaning back in his seat, Shawn wiped his wet, swollen lips and took a deep breath. His skin still burned from Rutledge’s stubble.

Chapter 8

It was dark by the time they arrived.

As they got out of the car, Shawn looked up at the house and said, not without humor, “Actually, now some things about you are starting to make a horrible amount of sense.” It was an almost laughable misnomer to call it a house. It was a vast mansion of classical design.

Bee clapped her hands in excitement. “A palace!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Emily said, her tone superior. “Kings and princesses live in palaces. Our country doesn’t have loyalty.”

“Royalty,” Rutledge corrected her, locking the car. “If you’re going to call someone stupid, make sure you don’t make mistakes yourself.”

Bee beamed at Rutledge and grabbed his hand. “I like you, Mr. Rutledge!”

Rutledge stared down at the tiny girl with a vaguely puzzled expression on his face, before looking at Shawn.

Suppressing a smile, Shawn said, “Leave Mr. Rutledge alone, Bee. Come on, take my hand.”

Bee pouted but let go of Rutledge’s hand and took Shawn’s. Emily took his other hand while a few servants came out to take their luggage inside.

“I don’t like him,” Emily said as they walked to the house.

“Don’t be rude, sweetie,” Shawn said, glancing at the man in question, who walked alongside them. “Mr. Rutledge can hear you.”

Rutledge’s eyes were focused on the house; he showed no sign of listening to the conversation.

Shawn averted his gaze. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, he had this immaculately dressed, stern-faced man grunting and moving on top of him.

“But I don’t like him,” Emily said stubbornly but lowered her voice. “Don’t like how he looks at you.”

“How he looks at me?” Shawn repeated.

“Like Bee looks at a pancake.”

Shawn forced out a smile. This was a whole new level of awkward. “You just imagined it, pumpkin.”

“But—”

“You just imagined it,” Shawn repeated, hoping Rutledge hadn’t heard Emily’s words.