Chapter 9 Jordy #3
Whimpering, I tried not to blush at the feeling of it dripping down my crack and onto his bed. I wanted him to push it into me, where it belonged, but I knew he’d probably choke me for real this time if I said it out loud.
When he was done, shuddering and shivering against me, he laid his forehead on my bent knee, panting.
The silence was heavy, and I knew he was probably thinking all kinds of dark thoughts. Thoughts that I didn’t want him having.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” I piped up softly. “I’m really sorry for sneaking in here.”
“I’m not mad at you,” he said. To my relief, most of the anger seemed to have ebbed out of his voice, but there was still this note in it that I hated. Like he was in pain. “I just… I’m just trying to understand why you’re doing this.”
“What do you mean?” I asked incredulously. “I like you, Kieran. A lot. What else could possibly be my motivation for all this?”
He winced slightly at my words, like they were a bullet that had just barely grazed him. Shifting back up to his knees, he tucked his softening dick back into his jeans and zipped them. Being the only one naked made me feel kind of exposed and uncomfortable.
“But why now? Why are you suddenly so…” He hesitated, like he didn’t know how to say it out loud. “Why do you want this so much now?”
Tilting my head, my brows furrowed. “You mean why do I like you now?”
“Yeah.”
A small laugh tumbled out of my lips, despite the incredibly tense and heavy atmosphere. It was such a ridiculous question, and I couldn’t believe how incredibly oblivious he’d always been to my feelings for him.
“I’ve liked you forever, Kieran. Seriously.
The only reason it’s different now is because of…
” Now I was the one hesitating. He was hard on himself when it came to me, and I wasn’t sure I should be totally honest about that night.
Knowing him, he’d probably be convinced that he’d forced himself on me or something.
“The other night, when you came home drunk… Before that, I didn’t really think I had a chance with you. ”
“Can you… Tell me what I did?” He asked, sounding like he really didn’t want to know. The resigned note in his voice cemented my decision on what to tell him. Maybe it was wrong, but I’d rather be wrong and lie to keep from potentially hurting someone I cared so much about.
“Um…” I glanced down at my body, where pools of my own cum were dotted all over my stomach, and my ass was dripping with his. “Yeah, but…”
“Hang on,” he said instantly, springing up off the bed like he’d been shocked.
I heard him rustling around for a second, before the sound of rushing water from the bathroom.
He came back into the room with a damp washcloth.
I reached out to take it from him, but he didn’t seem to notice, kneeling on the bed next to me.
Gently but thoroughly, he started mopping up the mess all over my stomach.
It was stupid, but it made my heart flutter in my chest like a leaf trembling in the wind.
Carefully laying my hand on his arm, I stroked his skin with my fingertips. I knew it was probably the last thing he wanted at the moment, but touching him felt so soothing.
Moving the washcloth down between my legs, he glanced up at me, looking hesitant and sheepish. “Is it okay if I…?” He trailed off, but I nodded, flushing pink all over. Trying not to hiss at the feeling of the warm washcloth probing me, I cleared my throat.
“About the other night… You don’t have to worry,” I said.
“You were really sweet. You kissed me and… You said some things,” I finished, trying to hold back my grin when he grimaced, his face radiating embarrassment.
He tossed the washcloth into a hamper and reached down to scoop up my shorts off the floor.
“What did I say?”
“You just said I was pretty and you kind of, um, gave me a little nickname. That’s all.”
“God.” He groaned again, pressing his palms into his eyes like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.
Wiggling back into my clothes and sitting up, I snickered, glad at least that he wasn’t pissed off anymore. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“I already know what it is,” he answered flatly.
“Do you really think of me like that?” I wondered, biting down into my lower lip to keep from giggling when he lowered his hands to give me a dry, unamused look. “An angel?”
“No, I think you’re a spoiled brat.”
“Aw.” I pouted a little, but curled my fingers into the front of his shirt. “I really liked when you called me that, though.”
“Don’t say that.” He warned, but before I could try to counter, his eyes narrowed a little and realization dawned on his face. “Why are you wearing my hoodie?”
“You just noticed that?”
“I’ve been a little distracted.”
“I wear your hoodies all the time.”
“Yeah, but…” He glanced over to the chair where he’d had this one thrown over the back. “You have one in your room. Why are you wearing this one?”
I shrugged. “It smells good and it’s warm. I saw it and I just… wanted it on me. Wearing your clothes makes me feel closer to you,” I confessed.
He shook his head, a shadow passing over his eyes again. “You shouldn’t say that, either.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t care that we’re stepbrothers, Kieran. It doesn’t even mean anything, anyway. Our parents are married, that’s all.”
“It’s…” He let out a harsh sigh. “It’s not just that, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. Isn’t that why you’re so weird about all this?”
Staring down at the bedspread, he shook his head again. “It’s complicated.”
“You can tell me,” I said, scooting over toward him so I could wedge myself under his arm, wrapping my arms around his waist. “You can tell me anything.”
“Not this.” He sounded hopeless and resigned, but he let me wiggle into his side. Holding me closer into his body, I felt his lips press into the top of my hair. “I’m sorry, Jordy. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“This is the right thing,” I said, raising my gaze up to stare at him. “I know this feels right for you, too. I can tell how much you want this with me.”
He sighed, squeezing his eyes closed. “I…”
The sound of tires crunching onto the driveway had both our faces snapping toward the window. Our mom’s car was pulling in. I felt Kieran’s body instantly go cold and stiff. He shoved my arms off him, springing up from the bed again.
“Shit!” He hissed out, his gaze darting between the window and me.
“It’s fine. She isn’t going to know anything happened.”
“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “No, this can’t happen again. I lost control, and I’m sorry for that. But this isn’t… We aren’t a thing. Don’t forget that.”
Groaning, I collapsed onto my back, staring up at his ceiling.
Why couldn’t my life be like the TV shows I watched, with picnic dates and make-out sessions and romantic confessions instead of constant rejections with sharp barbs sticking me all over?
Rolling onto my side, I watched him smooth his clothes out before turning back to me.
“You need to get out. You need to go act like everything’s normal.”
It sucked and it hurt, but some small, hopeful part of me, like a tiny candle flickering in a rainstorm, assured me that he didn’t mean it.
He didn’t want things to be like this. He didn’t want to keep rejecting me.
But something had convinced him that giving in to his feelings for me would be wrong.
But if his problem wasn’t that we were stepbrothers, then what was it?
Was it even something I could solve? Before that, I needed to try and convince him to tell me what it was.
And to do that, I needed to get even closer to him, to bring down his defenses even more than I’d done today, even if it had only been for a few minutes.
“Okay, Kieran.”
Making my way past him and out the door, I tried to ignore the way he stepped aside so that we didn’t brush against each other, like I was something gross and slimy that he didn’t want to touch.
At the top of the steps, part of me yearned to look back at him, to give him another chance to change his mind and take it all back and decide he didn’t care about whatever stupid thing he was so fucking afraid of, that was keeping him from me.
But I must have had some pride left, at least a little bit, because I didn’t.