Sugar Rush

Jordy

Heaving off my layers of blankets, I carefully set my beloved and very old stuffed clownfish, creatively christened Orangey by childhood me, next to my pillow before dragging myself over to the bedroom window.

I looked down onto the driveway at a curious scene.

Kieran James, also known as my smoking hot older stepbrother was stumbling around, talking loud as shit, and obviously drunk.

His friend, who lived a few houses down, was trying to steer him toward the door but it looked as futile as taming a bucking bronco.

That was weird. I’d never known Kieran to be a big drinker. He just wasn’t the kind of guy to get so sloppy. He was too obsessed with always being in control. Although, something had been kind of weird and off with him since I’d graduated from high school a few weeks back.

I wondered if something bad had happened and he’d needed to take the edge off.

But I was also distinctly aware that if he needed to get something off his chest, I probably wasn’t the person he would confide in.

Even though I’d had a huge and admittedly pitiful crush on him for years, even before I’d hit my second puberty and presented as an omega, he wasn’t interested in me like that.

We were friends, and we’d been friends for basically as long as we’d lived together, even though I kind of not-so-secretly loved getting on his nerves.

Watching closely until Ritchie finally maneuvered him to the front door and pushed him in, I let my curtain fall closed once Kieran was out of sight.

I wondered if he’d even be able to make it upstairs to where both our bedrooms were without help, but after a few seconds I could hear his heavy steps approaching.

I never slept with my door closed, so I could only stand there waiting for him to stagger by. At least I’d know if he fell and bludgeoned his head or anything, and could call the appropriate medical professionals if needed.

Catching sight of myself in my floor-length mirror, I quickly fixed my messy blond hair so it wouldn’t look like a bird’s nest with random pieces sticking up everywhere. I wasn’t sure why I bothered, it wasn’t like Kieran was going to notice me either way.

But when he reached the top of the stairs and went to pass by my door, he stopped, his dark chocolate eyes locking on me with such intensity that my heart smacked up into my ribs.

To me, he’d always had this poetically handsome face that I couldn’t stare at for too long without starting to fantasize about things.

Inappropriate things. I wasn’t insecure about how I looked.

I knew I was cute. But with his defined jawline and carved abs, Kieran was hot.

“You’re awake?” He asked. His voice was a little bit slurred, but so deep and raspy and sexy. I knew I was technically programmed by my biology to find his alpha traits attractive, like his deep voice and big hands, but that didn’t make the yearning any less potent.

“Thanks to you,” I responded, trying to sound light and casual even though his deep stare was starting to send tingles dancing all over my exposed skin. He took a step toward me, just barely entering my doorway.

“I don’t feel bad,” he said, his gaze falling down to my body where I was just wearing a loose t-shirt and boxer briefs. Was he actually checking me out? “You keep me up all the time.”

“I do?” I was pretty much always in bed before him, and as far as I knew, I’d never done anything to keep him awake.

The ironic thing was he’d woken me up over the years more times than I could count, having a nightmare in his room.

I used to crawl into his bed when I heard him making all those sad whimpering sounds, and it worked.

He’d always slept better when I was there.

But I hadn’t done that in years. Since he’d stopped letting me.

“All the fucking time,” he muttered. This time when he stumbled forward a few steps, he ended up right in front of me. Like so close that I could smell his soap under the whiskey scent that was clinging to him.

“Kieran?” His name burst from my mouth in a surprised breath. What was he doing?

“I know. I shouldn’t be in here,” he said, leaning in so he was barely whispering. His warm breath washed over my ear and neck, sending a shiver coursing through my whole body.

My cock instantly perked up, and I knew these flimsy little boxer briefs weren’t hiding anything.

I didn’t know how he would react if he noticed.

He was an alpha and I was an omega, but I knew very well that didn’t automatically mean he had any attraction to me.

Still, the way he was looking at me was like he wanted to bend me over and breed me.

I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about that particular mental image.

“I-it’s okay,” I stammered out. I wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, and I was definitely not the blushing and stuttering type, but my brain felt like mush. “You can stay if you want.”

“Are you cold?” He asked, his dark brows furrowing as he looked over my skin, covered in goosebumps. I was always cold, even when everyone else was hot, and he knew that. I was always stealing his hoodies. Not just because they were warm, but because I was obsessed with the way they smelled.

“A little,” I said, then let out a gasp when he reached out, stroking my arms up and down, like he was trying to warm me up.

Nearly losing my balance, I grasped at the front of his black t-shirt, inadvertently pulling him even closer to me.

Always black for the moody, broody, introverted tattoo artist.

His hands slipped from my arms to my waist, steadying me. I bit down into my lower lip to suppress the noise that threatened to pour out at the feeling of his strong fingers gripping me. His hands looked even bigger than normal, wrapped around my slim waist.

Was this actually happening? We’d lived together for six years, starting right after my widowed dad had married his divorced mom, and we’d never had any kind of physical contact like this. As much as I’d dreamed about it.

He stared down at my body, seemingly mesmerized.

I felt exactly the same way. He had a lot of tattoos, even on the backs of his hands, and the way those inked hands looked on me was so fucking hot I wanted to scream.

There was no way he couldn’t tell how turned on I was, looking down at my crotch like that.

I was fully hard now, practically throbbing, and the outline of my dick was showing loud and clear through my underwear.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he ordered, once he’d torn his eyes away from my body to glance at my face. “You don’t know what I want to do to you.”

“I know what I want you to do to me,” I retorted, my fingers tightening in the cloth of his shirt. I didn’t know how far this could go, and it was probably the worst idea in the world, but I’d fantasized about him for so long, I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t want him.

“I’m not supposed to touch you,” he murmured, like he was suddenly remembering all the reasons why we shouldn’t have been doing this.

“You can touch me,” I breathed out. “I promise it’s okay.”

“Jordy…”

The way he was looking at me had all of my organs twisted up and I couldn’t think. And then he was getting closer and closer until there wasn’t any more space between us.

His mouth tasted like alcohol but I didn’t care.

Moaning, I slid my hands over his shoulders and up into his dark hair, anchoring him against me as he sucked on my lower lip.

When he leaned into me too much, we stumbled back onto my bed, which reminded me he had no balance because he was completely hammered drunk.

Was it even okay for me to do this? Was I taking advantage of him?

He was older than me by three years, but still.

He clearly had no idea what planet he was even on.

As much as I’d always wanted this to happen, I didn’t want to make him do something he’d feel horrified by later.

But if it was true that alcohol made you tell the truth, then…

“Kieran,” I whimpered out his name as he nudged me over on the bed so he could move closer to me.

Now that we were laying, I could feel his cock pressed against my thigh through the denim of his ripped jeans.

It was thick and hard as stone. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I could feel slick starting to seep out of me. “Are you-”

“You’re so fucking pretty, Jordy…” He kissed my neck, his hot breath washing over my scent gland again as he panted against my skin.

The contrast of his rough stubble against my smooth skin was mouthwatering and the stimulation on my gland had my whole body pulsing and throbbing.

“Pretty angel. And you smell so sweet. You have no fucking idea.”

“Kieran,” I whined, twitching all over, my dick leaking out onto my navel. When he reached over to press his palm into my bulge, my back arched, my hips raising up to his touch. Was he actually going to jerk me off? And was it morally worse or better if I reciprocated? “Fuck.”

“Even your dick is pretty,” he observed once he’d nudged my underwear down to let my cock out.

His voice was soft and reverent now, like he was witnessing one of the great wonders of the world.

His praise for my body felt like a drug, clouding up my brain and racing through my veins until I was squirming under his touch.

“Don’t stop.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and I prayed they weren’t louder than they’d sounded in my head. I hadn’t even closed my bedroom door so if our parents happened to hear us, we were completely fucked. Luckily, their bedroom was downstairs and across the house.

To be totally truthful, I was always getting hit on and asked out by guys, both betas and alphas. I was small and cute and popular, a perfectly approachable and appealing mix of low maintenance and low drama. I knew my strengths very well.

And sometimes I would go out on a date, or even let a guy kiss me and feel me up a little. But I was never really tempted to go any further. Even with the ones that were good looking with nice personalities, it was easy to keep my cool and not get too excited. But those guys weren’t Kieran.

He was barely touching my dick, his fist a loose grip around it, but all my muscles were clenching and I couldn’t control my moans.

Rolling my hips against his hand, I grasped at his face, pulling it to mine so he could fuck my mouth with his tongue.

The way he was stroking me wasn’t particularly coordinated, but it was so fucking good I couldn’t stop moving.

My hole was twitching and clenching, like I needed something filling me up. I’d never gone that far with anyone before, but the thought of pushing Kieran’s hand down further so he could slip his thick fingers into me and stretch out my virgin flesh was so tempting I wanted to beg for it.

“I’m close,” I sobbed out, my eyelashes fluttering down to cover my eyes as my mouth dropped open.

“Come for me, Angel,” he rasped out, his voice pushing me over the edge. My balls pulsed and drew up tight to my body as the strong as fuck orgasm crashed over me, cum spraying out all over his hand and my stomach.

As the mind numbing sensations tapered down, I felt him drop limply next to me, his face pressed into my shoulder. He’d called me angel, twice. It was the cutest thing I’d ever been called by a guy, but I was pretty sure I didn’t exactly fit the description, particularly at this moment.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” I asked softly, still panting a little.

I really hoped he would say yes because I’d never seen it and I’d always fantasized about what it would taste like.

And now that I’d felt how thick and long it was, grinding against me through his jeans, I was pretty sure those fantasies were only going to become more detailed and more frequent.

When he didn’t answer, I nudged him a bit with my shoulder.

“Or you can fuck me.” My dad had put me on birth control as soon as I’d started high school, despite my attempts to assure him I wouldn’t need it.

He was from a long line of betas, so the idea of having a son that could actually get pregnant seemed kind of harrowing for him.

When he still didn’t answer, I grunted, bringing myself up to a sitting position. He was heavier than a stone, completely unmoving. His eyes were closed, his breath coming out in the deep, rhythmic pattern of sleep.

He’d actually fucking passed out.

“Kieran.” I hissed out his name, grabbing his face with my hands and rolling his head around a bit, to absolutely no response. Amazing. How the hell was I supposed to drag him to his room? He was more than half a foot taller and outweighed me by at least 50 pounds.

It was the most surreal moment I’d ever had, and I’d never felt more stupid and desperate. I could practically hear the narrator of my life. Record scratch. I bet you’re wondering how I got here, right?

Even I didn’t exactly know how I’d gotten here.

Groaning deep in my throat, I pulled my knees up to rest my forehead on, trying to ignore the feeling of my own cum dripping down my stomach. Well, if I was going to hell for hooking up with a drunk guy who also happened to be my stepbrother, it was too late to despair about it now.

I had no idea how Kieran would react when he woke up.

Maybe he’d be pissed off at me for letting things go so far, or maybe he’d be embarrassed about the whole thing.

But it didn’t exactly matter. I was now incredibly aware that I had the leverage in the situation now, a very welcome change from how I’d always thought it had been between us.

He’d actually been letting me believe that he felt no attraction to me.

But the honesty in his voice when he’d called me pretty, and the raw lust in his eyes when he’d been staring at my body told a much more interesting story.

A story I’d been dreaming about for a really long time.

There was an odd sort of euphoria buzzing around in my body as I lugged his shoulder up and used the momentum to roll him onto his side.

“You told on yourself, Kieran,” I murmured, hovering my face just an inch or so above his. He didn’t flinch, not even when I pecked a quick kiss onto his soft lips or dug into his pocket to extract his plain leather wallet. “Sweet dreams, stepbro.”