Page 32 of Circus From Hell

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ARLO

2 Weeks Ago

“This is the most boring show I’ve ever seen. How do you watch this shit?”

I flick Micha’s ear, earning a grin. “You’ve been here five minutes. Can you shut up and enjoy it?”

He rolls his eyes, settling into the couch and crossing his arms. Micha got back from the graveyard not long ago, and the only reason I’m still awake is to catch him on his way in. We do this most nights now, and I pretend it’s because of my sleep schedule, that I prefer being awake at this time, but that’s not the truth. Frankly, I’m head over heels obsessed with my older stepbrother.

There’s no telling how he feels about me. Micha is hot and cold. He teases me and then ignores me. He playfights and then insults. I don’t feel like I’m ever on stable ground with him.

“How was your session today?” he asks after a short bout of quiet.

“It was good.” I hold out my hand to show the fresh tattoo, ink spreading from my fingers to connect with the other tattoos at my wrist. My sleeve is officially completed, thanks to Micha. He hands me money without question for whatever I want; I don’t need to ask. He leaves it in my bedroom. Micha may be hard to understand, but he’s always protected me.

Even if I wasn’t always able to see it.

“Do you have any space on your body for more?” he laughs, grabbing my fingers and twisting my hand to examine it. Sparks shoot up my arm, and I’m forced to bite my lip to stop myself from drooling over the smallest touch.

“The bottom of my feet?”

He looks at me, face deadpan and delicious. I think this man was genuinely carved by gods.

“You’re kidding, right?”

I laugh and bring back my hand before I cum in my jeans. “I’m too ticklish for that.”

“Oh, is that so?”

I already regret what I said before he lunges over, attacking my ribs with his fingers. I fall back against the couch, trying to get away from him whilst unwelcome laughs mix with protesting shouts. Micha covers me with his large build, pinning me to the cushions as he commits this crime against me.

“Had enough, Pipsqueak?”

“Yes,” I pant, hand on my heart as I try to catch my breath. “Never do that again.”

“Do what? This?” I slap his hand away as he reaches for my side.

“Yes. That. Stop it.”

He smirks, and the volume from the television seems to disappear. The darkness of the room envelops us, and now I understand how close we are. Micha’s between my legs, one arm beside my head holding him up, and it would be so easy to hook my ankles around his waist.

“What are you thinking?” he asks quietly, lowering the tiniest amount, eyes focused on the bottom half of my face.

I can’t take this. He loops me in, gets me close, and shoves me away. I know better than to let it happen a millionth time.

“Nothing,” I answer, and he finally looks into my eyes.

“Liar.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Not.”

His lips rise in a smirk, and it drags me to stare at them, unable to look away. He pulls the bottom one into his mouth, and I nearly lose all hope, my cock jerking behind my joggers.