He’d had real sex with Rutledge. He’d had Rutledge’s cock in him.
Licking his lips, Shawn climbed out of the bed, wincing a little as the movement sent a fresh wave of dull pain through his ass, and walked to the mirror.
He was covered in bruises.
Shawn stared at the finger-shaped bruises on his hips and thighs and tried to decide whether he was freaking out or not. He was, a bit, but not because of the whole gay thing. Sure, he had never expected to have sex with a man, but gay sex in itself didn’t bother him thatmuch—at least not to the point of panicking and being hysterical. His parents were gone, and his best friend was bi, so there was no one to judge him—no one he cared about.
What did bother Shawn was the fact that he’d had sex withRutledge. It wasn’t in the deal. Sure, Rutledge had been pretty bossy and determined to fuck him, but Shawn could have easily refused. Could have easily stopped him. But he hadn’t.Thatfreaked him out.
Not to mention the intensity of sex had been almost scary. Scary good.
Biting his lip, Shawn ran a finger over the bruise on his hip. His skin tingled.
The bathroom door suddenly opened, and Shawn jumped a little.
Rutledge stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning up his shirt. He came to a halt at the sight of Shawn, and Shawn had to suppress the urge to cover himself with his hands. He forced his body to relax, telling himself not to be ridiculous. He had nothing Rutledge hadn’t seen already last night.
Something flashed across Rutledge’s face before it closed off, his features becoming hard and distant. “How much do you want?”
“What?”
“How much do you want for last night?”
Shawn sucked in a sharp breath. “How much do I want?” he repeated.
Rutledge walked to the desk and picked up his cell phone. “Yes. Name your price.”
Shawn stared at his wide back. “Price.”
“Yes, price,” Rutledge said, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice. “What’s so hard to understand?”
His stomach clenching, Shawn picked up his discarded boxers and slipped them on, ignoring the discomfort in his ass. He wanted a shower—he felt dirty—but he didn’t want to remain naked and vulnerable.
“Five thousand,” he said. That had to make Rutledge angry, right?
A pause.
“Fine.”
Apparently not.
Shawn would have laughed, except the knot in his stomach rose, becoming a tight lump in his throat and making him vaguely sick.
Without a word, he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door very quietly.
Leaning back against it, Shawn closed his eyes.
The door was cold against his skin.
* * *
A long, hot shower cleared his head.
By the time Shawn emerged out of the bathroom, he knew what to do, but Rutledge was gone.Shawn was about to call him when he noticed Rutledge’s cell phone on the desk. Sighing, Shawn went to check on the twins, but they were still asleep, so he decided to go find Rutledge. The sooner he got it over with, the better.
After about fifteen minutes of wandering, Shawn finally admitted he had no clue where he was anymore. This wing of the mansion was completely unfamiliar to him, and he couldn’t find any servants to tell him where Rutledge was.
The mansion was almost eerily quiet. The place was luxurious, but it felt like a museum, not someone’s home. Shawn wondered what it would have been like to grow up here, and a chill ran up his spine.
