Home > Bully King(5)

Bully King(5)
Author: Andi Jaxon

But Jonah?

Blood rushes to my groin, my dick heavy and throbbing in a matter of seconds. It’s not the first time my dick has gotten hard for a boy, but I hate it every fucking time. I’m not gay. I can’t be. But that doesn’t stop my dick from reacting to the pastor’s son.

My soap-slicked hand slides down the aching appendage and my head falls back toward my shoulders. The hazel eyes of Jonah Cohen stare back at me from behind my eyelids. His firm chest pressed against mine, his hands gripping my skin. Goosebumps erupt, sending a shiver down my spine and tightening my balls.

The rhythm picks up as my arousal increases, my hips thrusting into my hand, chasing that euphoria that only an orgasm can bring. Water cascades down my body and my hand picks up speed, tingles spreading until I release on a loud groan, shooting cum at the tiled wall. My hand slaps against the wall as I lean into it, holding myself up when my knees threaten to give out.

God damn it.

I’m not a fucking faggot.

Spinning the water to cold, I punish myself for the rest of the time I’m in here finishing up. By the time I step out, it’s marbled my skin blue and my teeth are clattering. I quickly dry myself off and find some basketball shorts and a t-shirt to put on.

My phone lights up; Taylor has sent me a message, but I don’t open it. I’m sure it’s about the game or getting laid. I stretch out on my bed and close my eyes. Practicing in the heat is exhausting. Add in the orgasm and cold-ass shower, I’m ready for a fucking nap.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Roman

 

 

I try to relax, but I’m too hyped up. I need to get out of the house and out of my head. Grabbing my phone, wallet, and keys, I make my way downstairs and out to the truck without being noticed by my parents.

I drive around for a while, the radio quietly playing country music while the air conditioner blasts to combat the Southern heat. I’m not going anywhere specific, just driving around, when I end up outside of the Cohens’ house. In a town this small, it’s easy to figure out where the newcomers have moved in.

I shouldn’t be here. I should have gone to Taylor’s like I normally do to cool down and have his mom check me for a concussion, but something made me come here instead.

A silver Honda Accord pulls into the driveway, and a middle-aged man with brown hair gets out, stops, and looks at me for a minute, before closing the driver’s door and coming toward me.

Turning off the truck, I get out and meet him on the sidewalk.

“Hello, sir. I’m Roman King. I go to school with Jonah and Mary.”

“Ah,” the man says, sticking his hand out to shake mine. “Nice to meet you, Roman. I’m Keith Cohen, the new pastor at First Baptist.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I say, shaking his hand and following him up the walkway to the door.

He opens the door and waves me inside. The living room is comfortable, inviting, with big brown overstuffed couches and a big TV on the wall. It’s homey and comfortable. Mary is lying on one couch with her legs pulled up under her dress, watching TV.

“Hi, Dad,” she says, not taking her eyes off the screen.

He walks past her, kissing her on the top of her head, and heads into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mary,” I say, smirking at the swing of her head and shocked expression taking over her face.

Jumping up off the couch, she smooths her dress down quickly, then stands awkwardly, obviously unused to having boys in the house. “Roman, what are you doing here?”

“Do you want to go out sometime?” The words tumble out of my mouth before my brain catches up. Shit.

A smile lights up her face, and her hazel eyes that are so similar to Jonah’s brighten. “I would love to!”

Mary races toward me and grabs me in a hug. My arms circle her waist while guilt settles in my gut.

What the hell am I doing? I need to stay as far away from this family as possible.

Movement to my left has me locking eyes with Jonah. His jaw clenching when he notices my arms around his sister. His eyes darken the longer we stand there in a silent standoff.

Mary steps back, and I smirk at her excitement. Is she the one I want to be with? No. But this gives me a reason to be around and fuck with Jonah. To get under his skin and really see what makes him tick.

“Roman asked me on a date!” Mary damn near squeals as she sprints past her brother and into the kitchen.

Jonah crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall, not taking his eyes off me.

“Why?” He growls the question at me.

I step closer to him, invading his space. “Why not?”

I’m not much taller than him, but Jonah has to look up at me to keep eye contact. My dick likes when he looks up at me.

“She’s a good girl. Find yourself a groupie and leave her alone.”

Amusement at his tough guy act has a full smile lighting my face. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Before he can respond, Mary and her parents walk into the room, and I spin around to greet them, hoping my shorts aren’t tented.

Stepping to the side, I stand next to Jonah like he wasn’t trying to threaten me away from his sister.

“You must be Mrs. Cohen. It’s nice to meet you ma’am. I can see where Mary gets her beauty.” I wink at Mary, and she blushes, much like her mother.

Behind me, Jonah scoffs, but I doubt anyone else heard it.

“Oh, I like him,” she says to Mary.

“Mr. King,” her father addresses me. “Do you attend church?”

Shit.

“Uh—” I force myself to swallow. “Not in a while, sir.” I shove my hands in my pockets, hoping honesty is the best policy here.

“I will allow you to take out Mary on two conditions. The first, you come to church on Sunday. Second, Jonah goes with you.”

Not the worst conditions I’ve been given…

“Dad!” Mary squeals in indignation.

He turns to his outraged daughter. “Mary, for the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. Jonah will be there to help you to not give in to the sins of the flesh.”

I. What?

Behind me, Jonah groans, and it’s all I can do not to laugh. This is definitely a first for me. I’ve had scripture quoted at me, but I’ve never had a chaperone.

Their father turns to me and looks at me expectantly. “Will I see you on Sunday?”

Looking at Mary’s embarrassed face, I wink at her again. “Yes, sir.”

“Dad, I don’t need Jonah to babysit me,” Mary argues.

“That’s the way of it, or no date, Mary. Your choice.” Her father crosses his arms over his chest, an immoveable wall.

“That’s ridiculous! If Jonah had a date, you wouldn’t make me go! It’s not fair!”

I can easily picture her stomping her foot, but she holds it back.

“It’s a’ight, Mary. I agree to the terms. If having Jonah come along is what it takes to see you, I’m okay with it.”

Jonah stiffens behind me. He didn’t expect me to agree, which is part of the fun. Part of me is happy he’s coming, the part of me that shouldn’t be attracted to him. This is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had.

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