Oh,hellyeah.
Break me, baby. Break me hard.
Even if it came with a few explosions, I wasdonebeing hands off when it came to sweet little Sean Cabot.
2
Tyson
“When I was a kid,”Sean said, still staring up at me wide-eyed and trusting as he leaned his cheek against my palm trustingly. “I mean, when I was maybe twelve? Thirteen? Um, back then, I used to.”
“You used to…?”
He blushed.
“Oh, right.” He used to jerk off, because of course he did—hello, thirteen-year-old boys everywhere since the dawn of time.
“And one time… um, one time my m-m-m-mother came in and caught me,” he went on, his voice shaking a little.
I nodded. Happened to the best of us.
Then I remembered what kind of dickwads his parents were, and I scowled.
“I was doing it to a picture of a boy,” Sean whispered, his blush disappearing as the blood all drained out of his face again. “And when she saw, she… she screamed at me, and she…”
His mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.
“She what, baby?” I asked, a sick feeling growing in my stomach.
He looked down. “She made sure I didn’t again.”
“Tell me,” I snapped, that sick feeling getting bad.
Sean gave me a jerky little nod and did. “She slammed my… my hand in the door. All my fingers. Over and over. And then… she... she… she handed me that picture again. It was in a magazine. She told me she wanted to see if I still liked it. She made me… made me get myself hard again, and then she did it again.”
His fingers flexed on my arm, and I almost vomited. “Your hand?”
Sean nodded, his eyes glazed over like he wasn’t really here. “She just kept doing it. All night. My father was out of town and she wouldn’t stop, or letmestop. I don’t even know how I managed to… to keep getting hard. It hurt so bad. Except that Ihadto. She didn’t give me any other choice. My hand was so swollen by the time she finally quit that it looked like one of those gloves that boxers wear, and three of my fingers were b-b-b-b-roken, and now Ican’t. I can’t touch myself, Tyson. I just can’t. I haven’t been able to, not since… since then.”
My dick had wilted the moment he’d first lost that pretty blush. But this… oh my God. I mean,Jesus. His mom sounded way past a mere “fucking crazy” and all the way into the realm of the kind of child abuse they locked people up for. Or at least, that theyshouldlock them up for. I wasn’t really sure how that shit worked, but I was plenty sure that those fuckers who called themselves Sean’s parents didn’t deserve the title.
I didn’t know what to say.
Well, fuck, that wasn’t true. I actually had a lot to say, most of which involved variations of the F-bomb and all of which needed to be said to two people who weren’t here, since I was just going to go ahead and assume that Sean’s dad was as big of a fuckwad as the bitch who’d almost maimed him. Because what, the guy hadn’t noticed his son’s fingers were broken when he came home?
But what to say to my boy?ThatI was at a loss about.
The silence stretched out between us as I tried to get the pissed-the-fuck-off part of me under control enough to figure it out. Guess I took too long, though, because after a minute, Sean dropped his hand off my arm, swallowing and looking away as he said, “I guess I’ll leave you alone so you can go, um…”
His voice trailed off and he made a vague gesture in the general direction of my fully softened dick, and like magic, that single moment of attention made it start to perk back up. Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to beat the bitch who’d hurt him, but apparently all my cock needed was to know that Sean was thinking about it and it was more than ready to jump right back in the game no matter how sickened I was by his story.
But yeah, no. My cock was just gonna have to ride the bench a little longer, at least until Sean and I sorted some things out. Like first and foremost, did he seriously think we were done here?
I wrapped my hand around his arm as he started to turn away, still wearing a kicked-puppy look on his face that made me want to slay some fucking dragons for him or something.
“Sean, seriously?” I said, turning him back around to face me. “You don’t actually think I’m gonna let you tell me that kind of shit and then just… just let you go, do you?”
Or go take care of myself, the way he’d indicated? I mean, yeah, I was a selfish prick and pretty sure we both knew it, but that? Just… no.
