Hating Cain Read online

  The guilty look on his face said it all. For a second I almost felt bad for ripping into him, but my embarrassment and anger overpowered any brief flash of sympathy.

  “Are you kidding me, Johnny? You invite all these people who apparently hate me to your house and just forget? Don’t you think that fact was, I don’t know, a little important? Just a simple, hey guys, this man that I kiss and fuck isn’t actually the life-ruiner I’ve been telling everyone he is for the past ten years!”

  My breaths came out short and ragged. Johnny’s expression was a mix of guilt and irritation.

  “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately, haven’t I?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “Yeah, you have. Because it was necessary.”

  We stared at each other, apparently at a stalemate. An ugly feeling churned in my stomach. I didn’t want this. I wanted to have a good time with Johnny, meet his friends, drink some damn booze. I didn’t want whatever this was.

  I sighed and brushed past him towards the steel rack. “Let’s just get the drinks. I’ll help you carry them up and then I’ll go.”

  “Wait, what?”

  I turned to face him. “I said I’ll go. I’m not staying here when everybody except Kaitlyn hates me.”

  “I don’t hate you, either.”

  “Well, I sure hope not,” I mumbled. “But two-thirds of the crowd hates me. Can you at least realize that doesn’t feel too good?”

  Johnny winced and the annoyance faded from his face.

  “I’m sorry, Cain,” he said, sounding more like he meant it this time. “It’s my stupid mistake, so let me fix it. Don’t leave, okay?”

  “What about Nash?”

  “I didn’t invite him,” Johnny said, shrugging. “Cherry sent him as a replacement, I guess, since she couldn’t come.” He met my gaze steadily. “You know that, right? I would never invite him after what you told me.”

  I felt relieved to hear that, at least. Some of the tension I held balled up inside my chest unravelled, but it didn’t clear the awful feeling of embarrassment and nagging sense of second-hand guilt from a crime I didn't even commit.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I was going to turn him away at the door,” Johnny went on. “But Kaitlyn saw him already and assumed he was staying, so I didn’t want to make a scene. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded. “It’s okay. I believe you. And I’m sorry for getting so freaked out, too.”

  He let out a deep exhale, like it had been weighing heavily on him. I strode over to give him a quick hug, a silent promise that all was well between us.

  We picked up a couple bottles of rum and gin, then made our way back upstairs. The selfish part of me wished we didn’t have to go back at all. A night alone with Johnny in his cellar, fooling around like two teens whose parents were away sounded like a fun time to me. More fun than returning to a room where the majority of people hated me for no reason, anyway.

  When we got back to the kitchen, I tried to put on the thickest skin possible. I smiled as they pelted me with their judgmental glances.

  I’m used to it by now, I thought, but I’m gonna be really glad when Johnny fixes this mess.

  Unfortunately, when I returned, so did the awkward atmosphere. Only Kaitlyn didn’t seem to notice. She was already tossing back a gin and tonic like it was water.

  Maybe she has the right idea.

  I poured myself one and took a few gulps just to feel a buzz in my skin. Anything to make this situation at least tolerable.

  “Oh my god, you know what would go amazingly with this?” Kaitlyn said suddenly. “I’ve got a whole case of vodka cream soda at home. A perfect party drink!”

  She giggled and rushed off before Johnny could stop her, because we were only seven people and two of them were driving, and we definitely didn’t need any more alcohol.

  The party went silent once Kaitlyn was gone. I bit my lip. Without Kaitlyn acting as a barrier, Johnny’s friend Mat turned his narrowed eyes on me once more.

  Now’s a perfect chance, Johnny!

  “So,” Johnny said, clearing his throat. “I feel like maybe there’s something I should clear up?”

  “Yeah,” Mat said. “Like why he’s here.”

  I winced at his harsh tone. “Ouch.”

  “Johnny, isn’t this the guy you said you hated?” Mat went on.

  “Mat, come on,” Amanda said gently, trying to hold him back, but Mat didn’t seem to care.

  “Amanda, he’s the reason Johnny ran away from home!” Mat retorted. “He ruined his life!”

  His words were a stab to the chest. It took everything in my power to stop hot tears from springing to my eyes. Even though I knew it wasn’t my fault, the accusation still hurt like hell. How long had Johnny’s friends thought of me as someone evil? How deep was their hatred of me?

  I met Mat’s eyes. I saw anger, betrayal, and loyalty. Anger and betrayal on Johnny’s behalf, and loyalty to his friend.

  Johnny stepped in front of me. “Actually,” he said, cutting them both off. “I ran away from home because of my parents. Not because of any rumor.”

  Everyone turned to Johnny. I sensed tangible surprise in the air.

  “I know I said a lot of things in anger about Cain,” Johnny went on. I didn’t miss the way his voice softened when he spoke about me. “But I regret that now. He’s not the person I mistook him for all those years ago.” He smiled. “He’s actually the opposite. He’s been nothing but kind and generous to me since I returned.”

  Warmth flooded my chest as my heartbeat quickened. To hear him say those things in front of his friends meant more than he could imagine.

  “Wait. So, did Cain start that rumor or not?” Mat asked.

  “No,” I stated. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nash tense. Surely he must have been dying to interject and prove me wrong. But this time, Johnny was on my side. Nash couldn’t manipulate him into thinking I was the bad guy anymore.

  “Oh,” Mat said simply. The anger in his expression faded like someone waving a hand through smoke. I wasn’t sure if he knew what to believe anymore. He checked Johnny’s face for reassurance, and Johnny nodded at him.

  “Whoever started that rumor isn’t any friend of mine,” Johnny said gravely.

  Nash froze. He might have even stopped breathing.

  Johnny put his warm hand on my shoulder. He stood close, like he was protecting me. “But Cain is my friend, and I’d like it if you guys respected that.”

  The girls nodded easily. Mat seemed more confused than angry now, but he offered a slight smile at Johnny’s request, and I didn’t feel as much animosity radiating from him anymore. It was no open-arms welcome, but I happily accepted the improvement.

  “Phew,” Molly said, loudly clicking her glass against Amanda’s. “Well, this took a heavy turn, didn’t it? Weren’t we here to be, like, celebrating or something?”

  “Yeah,” Johnny said, laughing sheepishly. “You’re right, Mol. Sorry to be a downer, guys. I just had to clear the air.” He grabbed his own drink from the counter. “Why don’t we have a toast?”

  Everyone took their glass in hand and clinked them together.

  “To Johnny’s new house!”

  “To Johnny’s place!”

  “To Johnny’s giant McMansion!”

  Even I burst out cackling, joining in the laughter at the discordant toast that nobody had planned beforehand.

  “Oh, wait!” Kaitlyn cried, running in with the vodka cream sodas cradled in her arms. “Wait for me, kids! To Johnny’s new couch!”

  It wasn’t until long after Kaitlyn had popped the cap off and Johnny mixed everyone a taste of it that I noticed that Nash was gone. But at that point, I was too happily buzzed to care.

  25

  Johnny

  As the party wound down and everyone st
arted to leave, the house grew quiet once more.

  I shared another big group hug with Mat, Molly and Amanda before they hopped in the car to drive back to the city. I knew Amanda, the designated driver, would get everyone back safe.

  Kaitlyn thanked me for the fun night and told me not to worry about all the cookies she left behind because she’d made them specifically for me. When she was leaving, I was glad I wasn't drunk enough to say bye, mom by accident.

  And then there was Cain.

  He stood lazily against the island in the kitchen, swiping at his phone and smiling. Even though it was late, he didn’t seem interested in leaving just yet.

  “What’re you smiling at?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.

  He shielded his phone from me but seemed more coy than shy. “Nothing.”

  “Let me see.”

  He slipped the phone in his back pocket. “Nope.”

  “I’m gonna take it from you,” I warned playfully.

  “Do it, then.” A challenge he seemed to want me to win.

  I leaned forward, using my bigger size to pressure him backwards against the edge of the counter. He bowed to it, allowing me to move him. As he gazed up at me, he licked his pink lips. I stared at them for what was probably too long. His breath was tinged with alcohol, but beneath that it still smelled like him. The scent reminded me of the night we had sex, and that thought sent a jolt of arousal down to my balls.

  I reached around to the back pocket of his jeans and fumbled around for his phone. Neither of us seemed to care that I carelessly brushed his ass with my palm. When I found his phone, I pulled it out.

  “Show me what you were looking at,” I said.

  “Hmm.” He licked his lips. “No.”

  “Please?”

  Cain’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously. I knew he wanted to show me but he was playing hard to get.

  “Why do you want to know so badly?” he asked.

  I leaned in closer so our foreheads nearly touched. “So I know you’re not talking to some other guy.”

  For a second his eyes flashed, like he soberly realized something. But then his impish expression was back. He grinned and unlocked his phone for me. “Here. Look and see.”

  I took the phone, not really intending to go through his apps or contacts, but I didn’t need to pretend to do that–because when I saw his phone background, I sucked in a soft breath.

  It was a picture of me from that night. From the angle it was taken, you could see I was smiling with my head thrown back as I took a shot. My shirt rode up, exposing a bare patch of my stomach along with the trail of hair that led beneath the waistband of my boxers.

  “Ah,” I said.

  “See?” Cain teased, taking his phone back. “No other guys to be afraid of.” He put the phone on the counter to free his hands, which he proceeded to run down my chest. “Because I don’t want them.”

  “Really?” I asked, my voice husky. “What do you want, then?”

  Cain stared into my eyes as his hands roamed along my pecs. “I want you.”

  “You’re holding me right now.”

  Lust burned in his eyes. “No. I want you. In bed.” He closed the space between us so that our lips were an inch apart. “Fucking me.” A shaky breath escaped his lips, ghosting across my mouth. “Right now.”

  I shuddered. Those words went straight down into my cock, making it throb in my pants. I grabbed Cain’s arms and growled, “Then let’s go.”

  We stumbled up the stairs in a blur. I was more tipsy than drunk, and I knew Cain was sober enough to know what he wanted, too. It wasn’t the alcohol in his blood that was demanding a good fuck right now–it was him.

  We were barely in the door before Cain pushed me against the wall and shoved his knee between my thighs. He hiked his leg up to my groin and pressed on it. I hissed through my teeth. That slight touch alone made my balls ache.

  “Fuck, Cain,” I said with a groan.

  “Tell me you want more,” he demanded. As he spoke, his hands flew to the hem of my shirt as he began yanking it over my head. “I want to hear it.”

  “I need it,” I croaked. “Your hands on me–”

  He apparently got tired of waiting, because my zipper and boxers were already down. My cock sprang fully to life in his hand as he began pumping it.

  “Wanted you all night,” Cain muttered. “Kept thinking about you. Almost came thinking about sucking you off in the bathroom.”

  I hissed out a breath at the hot mental image. “Jesus, Cain.”

  He dropped to his knees and I bit back a moan of anticipation. He pressed his cheek to my leg, rubbing his face on the soft black hairs of my thigh as he kept stroking my cock. The sight of it was so tender yet so erotic. I couldn’t hold back a whimper of need.

  “Please,” I begged.

  He didn’t make me explain. He knew what I wanted. He grabbed the base of my cock and lowered the head into the tip of his mouth. The first feeling of his hot, wet mouth against my sensitive flesh made me throw my head back with a loud groan.

  “Shit…”

  Cain’s mouth was sloppy, both from eagerness and lack of total sobriety, but it was hotter that way. I watched spit and pre-cum drip from the corners of his swollen lips and trickle down his chin, and he continued sucking and bobbing his head, too horny to care.

  I laced my fingers through his hair, gripping him with one hand and petting him reassuringly with the other.

  “So hot,” I mumbled. “Fuck.”

  He slurped more of my cock, taking it deeper. His face was flushed deep pink and he felt warm to the touch. Images of his face painted with my cum popped into my mind and I moaned out loud. I thrust into him faster, picking up the rhythm. I felt so greedy. I wanted nothing more than to keep sinking my cock into his hot, wet hole, over and over again.

  I felt light pressure on my hand, like Cain was trying to back off, so I let him. I realized with instinctive disappointment that he had no intention of sucking me off to completion, but then he said, “Don’t cum yet. Want it in my ass.”

  That sent another jolt of arousal down my spine.

  He didn’t wait for me to get my own condom, instead tossing one at me from his own pocket, then quickly began to strip. I was mesmerized. I stood there like an idiot, an unwrapped condom in my hands as I watched Cain shimmy out of his clothes. He stood there in the dim light, his pale body almost glowing. I wanted my hands on him. I wanted him.

  Once I’d wrangled the condom on, I threw myself at him. My blood burned. I felt feverish and crazed, like a wild animal. Cain lay on his back, limbs wide open and inviting. I straddled his waist and kissed him. We barely broke apart for gulps of air as we made out, frantic and open-mouthed.

  “Want you,” Cain got out in between breaths.

  “I’m right here,” I growled.

  “In me.” He threw his arms around my neck, clawing at my shoulders. “Now.”

  I cursed and kneeled back, fumbling for my cock. Cain had fished a small container of lube out of the crumpled jeans on the floor–had he been expecting this the whole time?–and messily poured a good amount over his fingers and twitching hole. He pried himself open long enough for me to press the head of my cock past his tight ring of muscle. Once it was inside, Cain tossed his head back and let out a low groan.

  “Fuck, that’s good…”

  The tight heat of his ass was incredible. I took a moment both to let Cain adjust to my cock and to calm myself and breathe, because if I came now I’d look like a fucking idiot.

  “Go on,” Cain urged.

  I grasped his hips and eased my way deeper. Cain’s eyelashes fluttered as he shut his eyes. I felt his body tense, then loosen under my fingers as he tried to relax for me. Tiny sounds of pleasure spilled from his lips. I craved more.

  Even in my not-sober state, I knew Cain’s comfort was more important than my pleasure. I inched inside at his pace, giving him a moment whenever he winced and pouring in more lube when he asked. Final
ly, when I was plunged up to my balls and couldn’t go any deeper, Cain let out a long sigh.

  “God, that feels good,” he said.

  I looked at him. He was gorgeous. The front of his blond hair was damp with sweat and fell haphazardly over his forehead. His blue eyes glowed with joy and lust. His swollen lips were slightly parted, ready to let out cries of pleasure.

  With my cock buried inside his ass but not moving, I leaned down to stroke Cain from his chest down to his arm. He looked confused for a moment until I found his hand and laced our fingers together. His eyes widened.

  “Johnny…”

  “What?” I asked with a small grin. “Fucking you in the ass is okay, but holding hands is too gay for you?”

  He shook his head in surprise, blushing fiercely. “N-no. It’s okay. I… I like it.”

  I kept my other hand on his hip, holding him in place as I began to move. Every time my cock brushed against his tight inner walls, I groaned. I knew it felt good for him too because his head rolled to the side and he arched his back, trying to take me even deeper. He whimpered as my cock slowly plunged in and out of him. The rhythm of his breathing got quicker and shorter. His tiny breathy sounds only excited me more. I bucked my hips harder, making Cain cry out.

  “Oh, fuck, Johnny, please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Faster, for fuck’s sake,” he begged.

  I held his hand and hip tighter. I thrust into him hard. The shock of pleasure made me moan. His tight, hot ass was making me lose my mind. I fucked him until his whimpers became loud whines, and those whines became open-mouthed and obscene cries of pleasure.

  Cain’s voice broke. “Please.”

  I noticed for the first time that there were tears glittering in the corners of his eyes, tiny beads of light in the darkness. I paused and leaned over with a furrowed brow.

  “Cain? Are you okay?” I asked.

  His eyes fluttered open, pools of clear blue within the most vulnerable expression I’d ever seen on his face. He seemed confused until he blinked and felt the hot tear roll down his cheek. He wiped it away with a shy smile.