Chapter 13
Ash
“ F uckkkk,” I groan, my cheek pressed into my pillow as my hips grind into the mattress. I have to get up soon, but I woke up bricked up, and I can’t think about doing anything else until I drain my balls.
Running—literally—into Finn last night after my shower was unexpected and embarrassing as hell at first, especially since he accidentally ripped the towel off my body and got an eyeful of my dick. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never show my face again… That is, until I got a good look at him and realized that Finn may not be as straight as I thought he was. He’s not as unaffected by whatever has been brewing between us as he likes to pretend he is. Because after he looked at my cock, daddy Finn was rocking a chub, and if I had to guess, I’d say he locked himself in his room and took care of that issue afterwards.
I know I did.
I can’t remember a time when I was so horny, so fired up, it felt like I could come without even touching myself, but I was last night. And then again, this morning, hence the reason I’m humping my bed like a desperate, pubescent teenager.
Gripping the sheets between my fingers, I groan at the feeling of my stiff cock gliding against my bed. The friction I get from it. Pre-cum leaks from the slit with each rock of my hips, and I imagine my body on top of Finn instead of on my bed. Imagine our hard lengths lined up as we grind against each other. Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I did something like that with someone. There’s something so filthy and erotic about shamelessly rubbing your dicks together while making out feverishly and breathlessly, chasing the high your bodies are bringing one another.
God, what it would feel like to wrap my naked and sweaty body around Finn’s, to feel his heart beat wildly as I brought him pleasure. It’s a fantasy I shouldn’t be having, for a multitude of reasons, but I can’t help it. Not after last night…or the night before that. It’s fueling the fire burning inside of me, flooding my senses with red-hot pleasure as my balls tighten and my cockhead swells. A whimper falls off my lips as I pinch my eyes shut, riding the wave that the image of Finn brings. My cock throbs as I unload all over the sheets, a rush of ecstasy that heats my blood and makes my heart pound harder. Biting down on the pillow to stifle my groan, I keep going until there’s nothing left.
As soon as I’m finished, I become grossly aware of the fact that I now have to get up and wash my sheets immediately. I’m getting out of bed later than I typically do, and I know Finn has already left for work because I heard his footsteps shuffling around in the hall a little while ago. Rolling off the mattress, I get dressed, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. Tucker shouldn’t be up for another half hour or so, so after I strip the sheets off the bed, I bring them to the laundry room, happy to find the washing machine empty.
I get the load started, and as I’m about to leave, I notice Finn’s laundry basket. It wasn’t in here last night when I was folding the towels I washed, so he must’ve dropped it in here before he left for work. It’s not the basket itself that has me stopping in my tracks. It’s the shirt poking out from underneath the pajama pants on top. My eyes zero in on it…or really, what’s on it. Looking up, like maybe I’m going to find Finn staring at me, I can’t help but feel like a creep, considering going through his laundry, but I can’t help. I need to know.
Gently moving the pants to the side with nothing more than my thumb, as if that makes what I’m doing any more appropriate, I run the pad of my finger over the spot on the white t-shirt. It’s rough. My pulse races; there’s no way that’s anything other than what I think it is. Which means I was correct… After our hallway run-in last night, Finn disappeared into his room and jacked off.
Finn is as affected by me as I am by him.
It’s not one-sided.
Not that I can do anything with this information because he’s still my boss and still very much my sister’s boyfriend, but knowing I haven’t been misreading the tension between us, the subtle flirting happening the other night, and the way he looks at me sometimes feels…I don’t know, validating, I guess. But also, shitty because, again, I can’t do anything about it.
Blowing out a breath, I head to the kitchen, where I get started on making breakfast. It’s timed perfectly because by the time the French toast is done, Tucker pads into the room, squinting up at me with sleepy eyes and a smile plastered on his face. Forcing all thoughts of his dad from my mind, I dish us both up before we sit on the back porch and eat while Bubba plays with the chickens in the yard. Well, he attempts to, anyway, and watching him try is more than a little amusing, especially with a giggling Tucker by my side.
Strolling into the bar, I do a quick scan of the area, easily finding who I’m looking for. Tripp raises his hand to wave me over as I make my way toward the back, where he’s sitting in one of the few booths against the wall.
“Hey, man,” I say, sliding in across from him. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Glad you could make it,” he offers before pouring me a glass of beer from the pitcher in the middle of the table.
“Is August coming?”
He shakes his head. “No, he’s helping Hollis put something together at his place.”
Earlier this afternoon, Tripp texted me, asking if I wanted to grab a couple of beers with him at this bar I’ve never been to. Honestly, the invitation couldn’t have come at a better time because I can’t imagine facing Finn tonight after what happened last night and what I found in the hamper this morning.
“Have you been here before?” I ask him as I take a drink.
“A couple times with August. What about you?”
“Nah. I haven’t gone out very much since being back in town, and the last time I lived here, I wasn’t old enough to go into bars.”
We order a round of shots and a couple of appetizers for the table. It’s not too crowded here, which is nice. There’s a jukebox in the back playing music that does nothing but remind me of Finn, which annoys me, so I order another round of tequila shots. Then one more for good measure, until I’m pretty sure both of us are feeling a bit toasty.
Probably not the smartest move for a Monday night, but whatever. We’re having fun.
This is my first time hanging out with Tripp without his boyfriend here, but we get along really well. It’s kind of nice having a friend who isn’t related to my boss. And Tripp’s also not from here, so he knows what it’s like being basically brand new in town.
“So, how’s working for Finn going?” he asks after we finish off the rest of the nachos on the table.
“It’s good,” I chirp, replying a little too quickly as I bring my refilled beer up to my lips.
Tripp chuckles. “You sure about that? That didn’t sound all that believable.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I love hanging out with Tucker.”
“I can’t imagine working for somebody like Finn, though,” Tripp muses. “He’s always so serious. Does the guy ever even crack a smile?”
“He does.” And it’s fucking sexy when he does.
I contemplate telling Tripp about what’s been going on, at least from my end, because getting it off my chest would feel good. And Tripp’s technically like a neutral third party, and I feel like I can trust him.
But he is dating Finn’s cousin.
Heaving a sigh, motivated by my buzz, I lean forward. “Listen, if I tell you something, can you keep it between us?”
His brows pinch. “Of course.”
“I mean it,” I say. “You can’t tell nobody, not even August. Hell, especially August.”
Tripp shimmies in his seat. “Well, now I know it’s going to be juicy. I promise,” he mutters. “Now, spill.”
So, I tell him everything—the weird, longing looks, the nightly hangouts in the living room, the daddy thing, and what happened last night.
Tripp’s brows are raised, his eyes getting wider the more I tell him.
“Wow,” he finally breathes out when I’m finished.
“I know.”
“I’ve never gotten bi vibes from Finn. Like, ever. And I feel like my gaydar is pretty on point.”
“I didn’t either,” I say. “But what if he’s not, and I’m reading way too much into this?”
Tripp scrunches his face up, shaking his head. “I don’t think you are. I’m not exactly a pro at spotting flirting or sexual tension, but even I can agree there’s…something going on with him.”
Downing the rest of my beer, I pour another glass, not sure what to say.
“Do you like him?” Tripp asks after a moment.
I chew on the inside of my cheek while I think about how to answer this. “I mean, he’s cool to hang out with, and he’s obviously extremely attractive.”
“But…”
“But he’s my boss and my sister’s boyfriend. It doesn’t really matter what I think or feel. He’s completely off limits, even if the fantasy of it all is enough to make me jizz all over my bed.”
Eyebrows pinched, Finn looks at me with a puzzled expression. “I’m assuming that very weird statement isn’t just a hypothetical?”
“Not at all.” I chuckle.
“Well, could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.” He breathes out a laugh. “But alright. So, what are you going to do?”
Elbows on the table, I rest my head in my palms. “I don’t know. Taking this job was probably the worst thing I could’ve done. Leave it to me to crush on my sister’s man. Just like old times.”
“What do you mean?”
Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
For a brief second, I consider changing the subject and not answering him, but I’ve already come this far and told him everything else, so why not drunkenly lay everything out on the table tonight?
Releasing a heavy breath, I rake my fingers through my hair, my head a hazy mess. “Me and Violet are twins,” I start, then chuckle. “Obviously. I’m sure you knew that. Anyway, because of that, we were always kind of in the same circle in school. Any guy I would like would always end up liking my sister, without fail. They’d end up dating, and I would sit on the sidelines, pissed off and bitter.”
“Fuck, that’s rough. Does she know how you feel? Like, have you ever told her?”
I shake my head, taking a drink from my beer that’s now more than a little warm.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s embarrassing. I tried not to feel any type of way toward my sister because I know she never did it on purpose. Half the time, I don’t even think she knew I was into them, and most of them were straight, so even if she knew, it’s not like I could’ve even tried to be with them. It’s not her fault, and I feel like shit for resenting her for it.”
Tripp’s quiet for a moment. “Maybe talking to her about how you’ve felt will help. I can’t imagine it’s easy keeping all of that in. And I’d imagine it has put quite the strain on your relationship over the years.”
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “We get along great. When I was living in Portland, we’d FaceTime several times a week.”
“And now that you’re back in town?”
Pressing my lips together, I think over the question, realization dawning on me. “We’ve barely seen each other.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say maintaining a relationship with your sister was easier when you lived so far apart because you knew she couldn’t steal anybody from you.”
“I don’t think she stole anybody from?—”
Tripp holds up his hand, cutting me off. “You know what I mean. Maybe being back in town is resurfacing those old feelings that you’ve been able to bury over the years, and maybe your crush on Finn is too.”
Huffing, I down the rest of my beer. “I didn’t realize coming to hang out with you would become a therapy session.”
Tripp chuckles through a wince. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s fine.” I wave him off. “It feels good getting it all off my chest anyway.”
“Well, your secrets are safe with me, friend.”
My lip curls on one side. “Thanks.”
After we finish off the rest of this pitcher and toss back another tequila shot, Tripp calls August to come pick us up because neither of us is sober enough to drive home. Paying the tab, we meet him out by the curb, and Tripp gets all googly eyed and giggly when we climb into the truck, clearly very excited to see his boyfriend. I shake my head and breathe out a laugh, watching the way he cuddles up against him as we drive back to the ranch.
As hard as I try not to, a small pang of jealousy hits me square in the chest. Dammit, I want what they have.
When August pulls up outside of Finn’s house, I jump out, waving back at them as I stroll up to the porch. “Thanks, guys!”
They drive off as I shove my hand into my pocket, searching for the keys to the house. Checking both pockets, I realize I don’t have them. Shit. Even though I know it’ll be locked, I still try the handle, and yup—locked.
Lovely.
My gaze drags over to the Ring camera, and I grin to myself, knowing the notification goes to Finn’s phone. Bringing my face up to the teeny tiny camera, I tap on it. “ Finnnnnn . You awake, Finn? I’m locked ooouut. Can you please let me in, daddy?”
Giggling to myself, a hiccup bubbles up my throat.
“Daddy,” I whine, “Let me in. I’m locked out and it’s sooooo cold.”
A moment later, I hear the sound of the deadbolt unlocking, and when the door opens, my mouth dries at the sight before me. Standing in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs is Finn, clearly having just woken up. His hair is mussed and sexy as hell. My eyes can’t help but trail down, taking in his fuzzy chest, his abdominal muscles, and the enticing trail of hair that leads directly into his underwear.
An unamused look is plastered on his face as I make my way back up to it. “It’s not cold outside,” is all he mutters as he steps aside, gesturing for me to walk in.
Daddy Finn is mad…and I like it.