The Step Dare (Peach State Stepbros #3)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Brenner

Late spring

fUcKboi4lifE: Show me your dick.

The message came through a little while ago. It’s from this guy I’ve been talking to on a hookup app. We haven’t met up yet because every time we try, something goes wrong. All we want is to have sex, yet the universe keeps cock-blocking us.

Me: Can’t. I’m at work for another hour. Meet afterward?

fUcKboi4lifE: Will be busy. Maybe next time.

Well, shit. That sucks. Not that I care too much about meeting up with him specifically, but I would, in fact, like to get laid. It happens to be one of my favorite pastimes—that along with video games and drinking too much coffee when I already have more energy than should belong in one body. I’m basically a storm of chaos, but most of the time I feel like I do a good enough job hiding it.

I shove my phone into my pocket just as a customer comes to the counter. “Hello. What can I get you today?” I ask the woman. She’s gorgeous, with thick, black curls and pretty brown skin. She’s probably about my age—early twenties—and considering the Feral Fox Café is close to Peach State University, I wonder if she’s a student too. I haven’t seen her around campus.

“A twenty-ounce iced caramel latte with an extra shot.” She gives me a smile that shoots right to my balls. I’m not real religious, but sometimes the Lord taketh away my first hookup opportunity, only to giveth something else. Or wait. Maybe it’s the other way around and he gives and takes away. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway.

“My favorite,” I tell her, and I’m not even making that up. It’s what I always order. “I wonder what else we have in common,” I flirt while ringing her up.

“You’re good,” she confirms.

“I’ve been practicing a while.”

“The thing is…I only like girls. I give you an A for effort, though.”

I laugh because, of course, that’s just my luck today—a beautiful woman and she happens to be a lesbian. “One of those days.”

“Eh, you’re cute. I’m sure you’ll meet someone else.” Her eyes shoot to my name tag. “Brenner. I’m Mila, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” And really, it is. It’s not all about sex with me, and I’m the type of person who’s never met a stranger. Scratch that. I like to talk to any and everyone, but I let in very few people, if at all, so I’m not sure the analogy works.

I finish making her coffee and hand it over.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime, Brenner. I’m transferring to Peach State next year.”

There’s only a couple of weeks left in this school year, so I say, “I won’t be working during the summer, but I’m down if you wanna share your snap.” I always head back home to stay with Dad over the summer.

We exchange info, and then Mila heads out. I’m sure she wants to get to know a friend or two on campus, which I totally understand.

Since we’re slow, I make myself a caramel latte too. Frank, the owner, doesn’t mind if we have free drinks while on shift. I suck it down quickly and start wiping off machines, counters, checking inventory—anything to keep myself busy until it’s time to clock out.

Just when my shift is about to end, the door opens, and I look up, expecting to see another customer, but it’s my best friend, Taylor. We went to the same high school, and then we both ended up choosing Peach State. We spent our teenage years bonding over video games and…well, honestly, Tay and I don’t have a whole lot in common. He’s straight, I’m bi. He’s quieter than me—most of the time, I can’t shut up. But we work.

“Hey, Tay. What’s up?” I take off my apron and hang it up.

“You out of here?” Jess, one of the other employees, asks.

“Yep. See you later.” I tell her goodbye, then clock out on my phone and meet Taylor on the other side of the counter.

Taylor’s in one of his signature tank tops, showing off his lean but naturally defined arms. He runs his fingers through his dirty-blond bangs, a vacant look in his eyes as he reads something on his phone. I’m not even sure he’s noticed me or realizes I spoke to him until he says, “I’m bored. I messaged Atlas to see what he’s up to, but he’s busy with Troy.” Atlas is our other good friend. He started dating his stepbrother a while back and spends most of his spare time with him now. “Then I thought I would see what Ash and Colin are up to, but they’re doing one of their semi-public sex things. Their bedroom door was open, and they weren’t exactly quiet.”

Colin and Ash are yet another set of stepbrothers who have recently started dating. Clearly, there’s something in the water. The only reason I feel safe from accidentally catching a relationship is the fact that I have zero stepsiblings. Dad hasn’t even dated since my mom passed away ten years ago. Losing her was hard on both of us, and I don’t think either of us knows how to put our heart out there.

“Nice that I’m your last resort, and do you think there’s still time to watch Colin and Ash if we head right over?” I tease Taylor.

He doesn’t so much as flinch, just shakes his head, as if he doesn’t expect anything different from me.

“What? They have an exhibitionism kink. Really, we’re helping them out.” I nudge his arm as we head into the humid weather. “And we both know you’ve been…curious lately.”

As more of our friends paired off or realized they’re queer, Taylor’s occasional questions and comments have made me wonder if he’s interested in exploring.

“Just because your brain is made up of sex, video games, and coffee doesn’t mean the rest of ours are,” he says playfully. Tay and I always rib each other good-naturedly. There’s not a sex-negative bone in his body, but what kind of best friends would we be if we didn’t tease each other?

“That sounds like a dream brain. Everyone should want it,” I reply, then add, “We can go back to your dorm and play some COD. My place is a mess.”

“Your place is bigger though.”

We’d applied to be roommates in a suite-style dorm, but we’d been rejected. I’d ended up in a suite with another guy and Taylor got stuck in a standard. “Yeah, but do you want to deal with stuff everywhere?”

“Good point. We’re going to have to figure out how to deal with that when we get an apartment together next year.”

We’re in the dorms now, but we’re planning to get a place in Atlas’s apartment complex. It’ll be nice to be close to a friend and have more freedom than the dorms allow.

“I’m too scatterbrained to stay organized.” It’s not a flex; it’s true.

Taylor must hear something in my voice because he adds, “You do fine, Bren. You do good in school.”

But I work hard on having some kind of schedule when it comes to classes or homework. It doesn’t come naturally to me, and it’s a struggle. Plus, “Yeah, but I like architecture, so it’s easier to keep on track. I hate cleaning.”

We chuckle as we walk to campus, heading straight for Taylor’s room. Our dorms are adjacent—two boring redbrick structures. The campus has gorgeous architecture, but they clearly went with dreary for the dorms.

Taylor is on the third floor. He unlocks the door, and I immediately plop down on the love seat. The space is small, with the love seat, a bed, a desk, and a TV on the wall, with a shelf beneath it.

“Thirsty?”

“Sure.” I turn his system on while Taylor grabs us each a Coke from his mini fridge, then sits down beside me. My leg bounces, but when Taylor pushes his knee against mine, it slows.

We put on headsets and load the game. We play online with other people and like to talk shit. I’m basically the world’s best Call of Duty player, but Taylor is a close second—okay, maybe he is a whole lot better than me, but we don’t talk about that.

Partway through our second match, one of the guys playing elsewhere says to another, “What? Did you take a break for a circle jerk with your buddies?”

“That’s what we’re doing over here,” I lie. It’s really a thing that happens sometimes—not between me and Taylor, obviously, but guys jerking off together on games is for sure a reality.

“And you’re still not a match for us,” Taylor adds, playing along. “I can make Bren come and still have time to kick all your asses.”

His choice of words sends a shock through me. I turn off my mic and say, “ Make me come? You do realize the point is that everyone jerks themselves off at the same time, not people jerking each other off.” I mean, I’m sure that happens sometimes, but that’s not what we’re talking about here.

Taylor’s head twists in my direction, pupils blown wide as if he didn’t realize what he said. He recovers quickly, flipping his mic off too and saying, “Whatever. I could get you off and still win the game.”

Okay, two things: First, I love that Taylor will say shit like this to me when he wouldn’t with others. And second, these are the types of comments from him that have my head spinning. I’ve known him a long time, and before the past year he wouldn’t have been joking about jacking me off. Him saying this stuff is coming from somewhere.

“Feel free to try,” I play along to see what happens.

He swallows noticeably and says, “Shut up,” trying to shake it off like I’m joking. Maybe I kinda am, but I’m also not. If Taylor is curious, who better to experiment with than me?

“Fine. Whatever,” I say, then turn the mic back on. We continue playing, but I can feel Taylor’s gaze on me, feel him watching me in this way he doesn’t typically. I must admit my dick is feeling more interested than it probably should when this is simply a joke between two friends. But it’s been a while since I’ve hooked up, and Taylor is hot, so it makes sense.

A little while later, I lean back on the couch and say, “I’m done,” before tossing the remote to the table. Once the headset is off, I adjust my cock, which still isn’t playing nice with me—I guess it’s mad I’m not playing with it.

“You ever done that?” Taylor puts his equipment aside too.

“Done what?”

“Jerked off with guys while playing.”

I shrug. “Yeah. It’s not a big deal. It’s what helped me come to terms with being bi. Remember Ricky from high school? We used to get together and game. It went from watching each other jerk off, to jerking each other off, and then I’d always end up blowing him.” I’ve never shared that with him before. It simply never came up. “Hey, you should give it a try. Everyone around you is queer, so why not join in on the fun?”

“Let you…blow me?” he asks, a surprised lilt to his voice.

Not what I meant, but now the idea’s playing on repeat in my head. I’m horny. I have been all fucking day, and since my other hookup didn’t work out, if Taylor’s interested, I am too. It would just be a little fun, and we’re too close to let something like this affect our friendship. “It’d be the best head you’ve ever had,” I tell him. I’m fucking excellent at sucking dick.

Taylor shifts, and when I look at his lap, I see the bulge growing there. It’s a fight not to lick my lips. I’ve always thought Taylor is hot, and this conversation and how I’ve been jonesing to get off with someone…the perfect storm takes flight in my gut. And again, if Taylor does want to explore with a guy, at least he knows I’m a safe place to do that.

“I dunno, man. I’ve had some pretty good mouths around my cock.”

My dick swells, little pings of electricity sparking inside me. I have no idea what’s going on between us right now. This is totally new, but I’m not complaining.

“That’s because you’ve never had mine.” I silently challenge him, my gaze traveling up and down his body, taunting him, daring him. We’ve issued a lot of dares back and forth between us in the time we’ve known each other, but mostly for stupid shit —I dare you to streak around the block, or I dare you to try and peel that banana with your toes. Okay, so it’s mostly me with the stupid dares, but Taylor always plays along, and I think he gets something out of them too.

“Prove it.” Taylor throws down the gauntlet, as I hoped he would.

Still, I don’t want to push him, want to give him time to change his mind, so I pretend nonchalance. “Hmm?”

“Suck my dick, Bren.”

The spark of courage, of desire and curiosity in his eyes, goes straight to my dick, making my mouth water at the thought of having Taylor’s cock between my lips.

“Prepare to be amazed,” I say playfully, then kneel on the floor.

I reach for the band of his shorts. Our gazes meet, his pupils blown wide, and I pause, again giving him time to change his mind. It’s just sex, but this will be the first time Taylor gets head from a guy, and it happens to be with his best friend, so I’m sure it’s a lot to take in.

“Dare you,” he gives the consent we both need, and damned if it doesn’t make my dick throb even harder. I pull Taylor’s shorts off, taking his briefs with them, and watch his cock spring free.

It’s a great dick—I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that—his balls big and full, shaft flushed and swollen, his head redder than mine. Taylor is long and veiny, just how I like. It’s a pretty cock, and just looking at it makes the buzz beneath my skin grow, makes my heart beat faster.

“This what you want?” I ask Taylor, not breaking eye contact as I lean forward, pressing my tongue against the base of his shaft, then letting it take a slow journey up to his leaking tip.

“Fuck,” he grits out. “Suck me.”

“Bossy, bossy, aren’t you? I haven’t even done anything yet, and you’re already dying for it.” I don’t give Taylor time to respond, holding his dick at the root and swallowing him down. I have zero gag reflex, which comes in handy when you’re claiming the prize as world’s best cock sucker.

I pull back, then lower my head again, over and over and over. Each time his dick hits the back of my throat, I swallow around it, open for him so he can fit all the way inside. I smell the musk and sweat on his skin, feel his cum-filled balls against my chin as little gasps and pants and a string of curses fall from Taylor’s lips, urging me on. When I feel his thighs trembling, I pull back.

“That all you got?” Taylor asks breathlessly.

“Aw, come on, Tay. Don’t pretend you weren’t going to shoot your load. Quick trigger.” He wasn’t going to come yet, but I can’t help teasing him.

In response, he threads his fingers through my hair, gripping it tightly and pulling me back down toward his shaft. I tug him so he scoots down farther off the couch, then bury my face in his nuts first, licking and sucking them, breathing in the scent of him.

“Eh…” he pants. “Not…bad so far.”

“Yeah, because you’re not struggling to even speak right now.”

I suck his dick to the back of my throat again, bob my head on his shaft, tasting the salt of his skin that makes me dizzy with lust. I use my hand to play with his balls, wetting his cock, treating it like it’s my favorite damn thing as Taylor drops his head back against the couch.

I pull off him, stroke him a few times as he gazes down at me pleasure-drunk, and honestly, looking a bit loopy.

“Fuck. Want your mouth again,” he says as my hand slides up and down his hot, hard length.

“When I let you back inside, I want you to show me what you can do, Tay. I love having my face fucked, love the feel of choking on a dick.”

“Jesus,” he groans, and as soon as my mouth is close enough, Taylor thrusts up into it, lets loose on me the way I asked, and I can’t help wondering if he would have been this comfortable with anyone but me. Taylor knows he doesn’t have to hide any part of himself from me, though; that’s not how our friendship works.

He makes my eyes water as I let him use my face the way I crave, feel the tight muscles of his thighs beneath my hands. Taylor isn’t a big guy—he’s skinny and doesn’t have a lot of bulging muscles, but I feel them tense and constrict as he moves.

The sound of my sucking is loud, saliva running down my chin and his shaft, wetting his balls that I’m dying to taste again.

I shove my left hand under his shirt, plucking at his nipples while sucking his dick, and trying to ignore my neglected, aching cock.

“That’s so good. Shit, Bren. I can’t. I’m gonna…”

I rip my mouth off his dick and say, “Give it to me,” then take him deep again. His hips flex upward, body trembling as he tries to hold off on his orgasm as long as he can before he tenses, body bowing slightly as he’s filling my mouth with his thick, salty load. I keep swallowing around him, sucking his balls dry, wanting more even though I must admit, Taylor has a huge fucking load.

“I love cum,” I tell him, licking some that dripped down his shaft and collected on his balls.

His chest rises and lowers with deep breaths. “That’s it. Lick it all up.”

Who the hell is this Taylor? I never expected to hear orders like that fall from his mouth, but still, I do what he says, wanting every drop of jizz I can find. Then I’m shoving to my feet, tugging my shorts down, kneeling on the couch, spitting in my hand and jerking myself off until the bliss pulls me under and I’m shooting all over Taylor’s chest. “Aw, look at you. You look pretty all painted with my load,” I tease, then fall to the couch beside him.

Taylor keeps breathing heavily, and I wait for him to come down, ready to hear what he’ll say next.

“Sooo?” I ask.

His gaze wanders slightly. “Six out of ten.”

“Liar,” I reply, and we both laugh. I say a silent thank-you that we’re okay, that this wasn’t a mistake and nothing will change between us, because I don’t know what I would do without my best friend.