Lies On The Lips

Chapter Thirteen

Brett

When I leave the bathroom, I find the back french doors ajar. I can hear the rain beating down and a chilly draft rushes in.

"Go," Leah says from behind me.

I whip around and frown at her. My fiance, beautiful, but utterly unhappy. I know the feeling.

"What?" She walks over to me and takes my hand. Then, she stands on her toes bringing her lips to my ear.

"It took me a bit to connect the dots, but I see it. Go to him, make sure he's okay. I will cover for you."

Abruptly I pull her to me and give her a quick squeeze. "Thanks. I'm sorry about all of this, we'll figure it out…"

"Cope,"

I swallow hard. "Yeah, Cope."

"Go," she urges, pulling away and pointing to the door.

With a quick kiss on her forehead, I tell her goodbye and slip out the back door. As soon as the rain starts pelting me, I wish I had grabbed my coat, my dinner jacket is not nearly enough to keep me warm.

A shudder ripples through me, but I ignore it and make a run for it. Like an invisible wire stretched out between us, I can almost feel the ping of his pain radiating down the line and spearing me straight into my chest.

At dinner, in the bathroom, his normal walls were down.

Sheer terror shone in his normally smug blue eyes. That one look gutted me. It's a look I'm responsible for, something I need to fix.

Slices of pain shred my heart as I run through the rain. I need to apologize. My shit I'm going through isn't something he deserves to be dragged into. Cope acts tough like he has it all together, But I know the boy deep inside him. The insecure boy who never felt loved by his father. The boy who hides behind smirks and tattoos and nonchalance.

But that boy hurts.

I feel like I'm the cause of so much of it.

As soon as I hit the tree line, the rain isn't as heavy. I'm already numb, yet my chest burns from exertion. It's dark, but I've taken this path so many times, I could get there with my eyes closed.

Something slams just ahead, a fist against metal. Pow. Pow. Pow. Swiping rain from my brown I chase the sound. I slow my steps when I find Cope pacing the front of our secret shed, shaking out his hand. A loud snap under my foot has him pausing, but he doesn't look my way.

"Cope…"

"No!" he bellows. "Im done!"

I knew it was coming, what needed to be said, but it still crushes me. "I know," I call out. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head up to look at me. The dark gray glow from the moon behind the rain clouds reflects from his pale face that's dotted with rain drops. "You're sorry?" He demands. "For what?"

Slowly I approach him, my hands held out in a placating way. "For everything."

"No!" he shouts, storming my way. "I need you to be more specific. A generic apology doesn't help narrow down the point where you dug inside my head and scooped out my sanity," He shoves me hard, sending me stumbling back several steps. "You wanted to kiss me? Might as well shove that final nail in the coffin. Come on Cooper, kiss me like you fucking whack off thinking about every night. Kiss me and run me off for good because I can't take this anymore."

"I told you," I grit out. "I'm not going to do that."

He pushes me again, letting out a rage filled roar. "Do it!"

"No," I growl. "Now cut your shit, it's starting to piss me off." And just like when we were kids, the two tornadoes collided. He swings at me, but I block his hit, shoving him to the ground. The asshole kicks up at me, kicking me in the thigh. I hiss and grab my leg, stumbling away as he jerks to his feet. He tackles me hard, sending us both to the muddy ground with a loud splat that knocks the breath out of me. His fist wipes my jaw but the rain has it glancing off before it does any real damage.

I grab his throat and roll him, straddling him beneath me. Even filled with rage and losing his shit, I'm able to overpower him. "I said stop!"

"I hate you," he chokes.

"No you don't." Something that closely resembles a sob rattles from him. I lean forwards and press my forehead to his. This time, the unmistakable sound of unchecked emotion rips from him in one sharp cry.

"Just kiss me and end it all." He pleads, defeated.

I lift away slightly so I can look into his eyes. They're partially closed as rain beats down on us. "I don't want to end it all," I muttered to him. "I want to keep it."

"Brett, put me out of my misery."

Brushing my nose against his cold wet one, I let out a sad chuckle. "I can't." His brows crash together for a moment and then when they slightly relax, he leans forwards pressing his lips to mine. I freeze at contact. I'm startled enough that he surprises me once more by gaining the upper hand. He flips us so he's glaring down at me, victory in his eyes. "Cope…"

He silences me with his lips to mine again, this time harder. Insistent. Demanding. His tongue slides out and I greedily lash at it with my own, forgetting rules and promises.

He tastes like rain and friendship and memories and love.

And I can't get enough.

Sliding my fingers into his wet hair I pull him closer. I kiss him deeper. My soul pleads its damn case with his. This. This is right and real and it's ours for the taking. He moans when I nip at his bottom lip, sending currents of desire right to my dick. My erection seems to be contagious, because as time ticks on, he grows harder and his kiss becomes more intense.

"Fuck, Brett," he mutters against my lips. "I don't know what I'm doing, but it feels good. Why does it feel so damn good?"

I smile against his searing kiss. "I don't know, but it's been driving me crazy long before it has you."

"I'm sorry, so sorry." He groans and sucks on my bottom lip. "I didn't know how it felt."

Painful.

Lonely.

Devastating.

But Cope won't have to feel that way. He has me. We're in this together.

"Just don't leave me again," I plead. "Promise me Cope."

"I promise," he says without skipping a beat.

Lying in the cold mud and rain pouring down, we frantically grope at each other, desperate for this new feeling. Mutual want. He easily takes at my belt and pops my buttons shoving his hand down my boxers as I stupidly try and fumble with his ridiculously tight jeans. His chuckle makes my dick jolt in his freezing hand. He undoes his jeans with his free hand gaining me access, with my hand on his dick and his on mine, we kiss eagerly. Both of us are climbing higher and higher until we're almost on that edge. Cope is the first to lose himself to pleasure. He groans as his release spurts from him, warming my hand with his hot cum. It sends me into my own vortex of ecstasy. I moan into his open mouth and nearly black out as I come. His hand slows as he wets my dick with my own cum. Our kisses grow softer and less frantic until Cope chuckles.

"What?" I demand, a laugh trickling past my lips. "What’s so funny?"

"This," he utters. "You and me. Fucking fighting as per usual and then back to normal, only this time It doesn't feel so normal."

"That's because you're covered in mud and cum and it's cold." He sobers and lifts so he can look at me. His dark hair plastered on his face just covering his blue eyes. 

"This doesn't feel real. Like when I walk back into my room…" He trails off, frowning.

"It's real, and we will walk into that room together." We both rise to our feet and fix our pants. Cope watches me with such vulnerability in his eyes it nearly kills me. I stalk over to him and pull him to me for another soul stealing kiss.

"My dad can't find out." He mutters.

"Neither can mine."

"No one can know."

"I agree." He embrasses me hard, like I might disappear any second. I mimic the sentiment, burying my face against the side of his neck.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He breathes.

"That makes two of us."

"No," he whispers. "I mean, I want to fuck you, but I don't know what to do."

I chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm all yours."

His house is empty by the time we make it back. Both of us are shivering from the cold. He leads me through his kitchen, us tracking in mud along the way, to the laundry room. Once inside, he opens the lid to the washer and starts peeling away his wet clothes. I follow suit until we’re both standing in our boxers. "This looks pretty bad," I say with a smile. "Where’s your dad?"

"Work probably," he utters as he throws in a couple of pods and starts the wash. "I need a shower." As he walks away, I admire his broad shoulders and muscular back. His ass looks too good in his black boxers that are glued to his skin since they’re wet. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we’re upstairs, but I’m suddenly nervous. My heart rate skitters in my chest as we make it upstairs and to his room. Once inside, he shuts the door and locks it behind us. He walks into the bathroom and starts the shower. His eyes are everywhere but on mine when he returns. I’m thankful when he roots around in one of his drawers and produces the bottle of Jack he had last night. Unscrewing the lid, he glances over at me, his gaze roaming down my front before he looks away.

My skin heats from his stare. "Are you going to share?" I ask, my voice husky as I approach. He takes a long pull from the bottle before handing it to me. His hand trembles slightly. My cold fingers wrap around the glass, brushing his. Blue eyes, wide and jittery land on mine.

"Sure." He smiled and passed the bottle.

I drink the Jack and shrug. "By the way, you taste good."

The smug, confident boy I know slips back into place as he steals the bottle back. "I taste fucking delicious." He tilts his head back and I drag my stare down his neck, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Like I promised myself, I take a step forward and lick my tongue up his cold neck there.

"Yep." I murmur against his chilled skin, loving the way his dick hardens and presses against my own through our boxers. "Fucking delicious."