ASHER
Chapter Thirteen
Fuck. My. Life.
Walking like a normal person around the house was a bigger challenge than I had expected. My ass was constantly warm and tingly in all the best ways. The ghosts of pain showed themselves when I had to sit down for dinner and the surprise I felt at the sensation took my breath away.
With Jordan sitting across from me and Mom and George flanking me, I felt like all eyes were on me, reading the subtle expressions that spelled it out clear as day: I had my ass wrecked by the rough beast that was now staring at me and licking his fingers with delight.
And yet, despite doing my best to push those thoughts from my mind and my face, I couldn’t stop the welling desire for another round with Jordan.
He was too good, too perfectly fitting my needs, and too accurately dominant in a way my slightly submissive streak adored.
It was a trait I would never show to anyone in my daily life.
I was a strong, independent guy as far as everyone was concerned.
And yet I liked getting owned and fucked for my lover’s greatest pleasure.
My gaze moved between Mom and George without being suspicious.
You’d tear this apart, I thought, almost bristling as that crossed my mind.
It turned into a sort of mental game. Which one of them would pull the trigger if they found out?
Which one would demand we stop? Which one would hurt more?
George was a passionate person at times.
He felt things strongly, even if it was unpredictable.
My mother had always been progressive, but I wondered if her mind was open enough to accept that stepbrothers could develop feelings for each other.
It wasn’t like we had actually grown up together.
Then again, both our parents had done a lot of work of convincing us and themselves that we were now brothers.
They’d backed off after a time, but I doubted the ambition had faded entirely.
The game nights and family trips had always found ways to illustrate to Jordan and me that we were more than two strangers in a new situation.
It’s not forced proximity when you are family, the logic went. But I had rejected that line of thinking for the simple reason that Jordan had been turning me on since the first time I saw him.
Surreal as it may be, spite flamed within me.
Would they try to pull us apart? Vindictively, I pressed my thighs together under the table, sparking a wave of flutters through my insides that started where Jordan had wrecked and stretched me to the point that even shifting in my chair wasn’t without that unique sensation.
I planned, just as I sat there between Mom and George, how I would wait for midnight before slipping into his room and handing over my body for his pleasure.
“You boys have a good swim?” George asked after swallowing a mouthful of his homemade carbonara. “You’re both red like crabs.”
“Sunscreen must have worn off,” Jordan said in his deep, even voice.
“I was telling Eileen we should join you,” George said conversationally.
Dread filled my hollow stomach. That never happened.
Mom disliked still water and George wasn’t much of a swimmer.
That they had even thought about it terrified me.
In some other universe, a version of us had gotten caught today.
In yet another, a version of us had been caught at that first kiss.
We were one mistake away from an untimely end to this thing.
This thing…
What was this, anyway? I didn’t mind sneaking around with him if it meant he would treat me well and kiss me and fuck my brains out when we wanted it. But I still wanted to know.
“I was reading,” Mom said, like that completely explained why she hadn’t gone to the lake.
“You should join us tomorrow,” Jordan said.
I glared at him. What the fuck was he doing? I wanted to ride him senseless tomorrow. I wanted to suck him underwater or do some other sort of acrobatics where nobody could see us.
“Ah, maybe, I don’t know,” George said. “It’s more important that you boys have fun. We’re beyond enjoying things like lakes, right honey?” He chuckled, but I wondered if Mom felt the sting in his words just as much. Maybe more.
But I understood what Jordan’s game was. He was throwing off their scent. If he offered that, then it meant we had nothing to hide there. Which, of course, made sense to an innocent person who didn’t struggle to contain his guilt the way I did.
No. I was not guilty. The only thing I was guilty of was searching for a few moments of happiness. Could they deny me that? Could they judge me? Parents or not, I didn’t expect anyone just to shrug and not give me strange looks for my transgressions.
Growing up, I had been confident that my mother would accept my sexuality just fine.
George’s opinion hadn’t mattered as much until his kindness touched me on the night I had come out.
Even so, I had gotten familiar with that deep fear and the temptation to live as a liar, hiding in the shadows, denying myself to be who I was.
I had known the fear of rejection even when nobody had given me a reason to expect it.
I had known what it was like to be different since I was a little older than a child.
Thinking back, even earlier, I had known I wasn’t like all the other boys.
Even as lucky with my mom as I was, I hadn’t been totally confident that things wouldn’t change after coming out.
I had hated feeling it then. And I hated feeling it now. It was a different thing, yet it felt exactly the same.
Later, I followed Jordan away from the table with a ten-minute delay. He messed up my midnight plans by simply slipping into my room through the main door with a bottle of wine in his hand. “Had this in my backpack today,” he explained, waving the bottle.
“We didn’t drink it,” I said.
A small smile touched his lips. “We had better things to do.”
“And now we don’t?” I asked.
He gave me a pointed look. “They’re not mutually exclusive, baby boy. Today, I was in a hurry, and I forgot all about the wine. Now? We can take it easy.”
Shudders passed through me in several waves. His name for me, and his suggestions, and his powerful, towering stance. He was on his feet by my bed while I sat and looked up. “No glasses?” I pointed it out just to be cheeky.
Jordan snorted. “Do you mind sharing the bottle with me now?” he teased. “I thought we crossed that bridge when I had my dick in your mouth.”
My chest tightened. This guy didn’t care at all. He wasn’t loud, but he wasn’t quiet like a little mouse either. This Jordan was a risk-taker and it was an even bigger turn-on. “Right,” I said, my voice tight as my throat closed and air wheezed in and out of my lungs. “We can share the bottle.”
He’d pulled a corkscrew out from his pocket and my gaze remained on his crotch.
The loose cotton shorts he wore seemed to be custom-made to draw my attention there.
The curves over his big dick and balls were unmistakable.
He acted like a real dude, as though he was the straightest guy on the planet.
Since meeting him, the unattainable straight dude became my sole type.
The only thing that made him hotter was the fact that I attained him in the end.
“Does it bother you that nobody knows you’re into guys?” I asked.
He was screwing the opener into the cork. He huffed like it took effort to do the job. “Bother? Nah. It’s nobody’s business.”
“We all say that,” I said. “But that’s not always true. I remember having that excuse so I wouldn’t have to come out.”
Jordan didn’t look at me. He was solely focused on the bottle, turning the screw into it slowly like it was hard work. “It’s nobody’s business, Ash.”
I liked it when he called me Ash. “But, like, your best friend? Your dad? They don’t know all of you.”
He looked at me now. “I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention, but my best friend isn’t just having sex with a guy almost every day, they’re building a life together. And nobody knows all of anyone else.”
I shrugged. “I know all of you.”
The cork popped out of the bottle and Jordan sat beside me.
As he handed me the bottle he asked, “Do you, though? You know I like you, but do you really know all of me?” I must have shown a hurt expression just the way I felt because he hurried to fix the situation.
“Ash, it’s fine. People can spend a lifetime together and not know everything about the other person. ”
I shrugged and tipped the bottle back, pouring some of the wine into my mouth. It was dry and nutty and possibly pretty pricey. “I want to know everything about the other person.”
Jordan hesitated and accepted the bottle in the time it took him to think about it. Then, as he looked between me and the bottle, he said, “Okay.” It was the softest, sweetest little sound that had come from his lips and I’d heard him moan until the sky shook. “Ask me.”
My heart skipped a beat or two. What do I do with this newfound power? I thought. Grinning, I pondered through the most essential questions. Then, pulling on my serious face, I cocked my head. “Alright. The obvious, first. How did you realize you were into guys?”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “I saw you shirtless on the pier.” And when he saw my shocked expression, he laughed. “I thought my heart would drop into my stomach. I thought I was about to faint. But that’s how I knew.”
“How old were you?” I asked, genuinely worried.
“Too old,” he said, shaking his head. “Your body was starting to shape up like this.” His hand gestured up and down the length of my body.
“And I had gone through a really long period when no kind of porn interested me. I was sick of everything. And then, there you were, wet, sunbathing, cocky as fuck with your pretty face and nice, new muscles. You were so damn proud of yourself.” He took a swig from the bottle. “Your turn.”