Chapter Five
Ryder
My heart raced so fast, I was in danger of a serious arrhythmia.
As soon as I stepped foot on the dock, the normally soupy Miami air was ice cold in my lungs, coming in ragged bursts.
I fought against the sudden urge to vomit and kept my stride strong and back straight.
I had no fucking idea where I was going, I just needed to get away from all of them. From Finn.
I might have made eye contact with one of my brother’s friends, but I didn’t know who the fuck it was, or if the smile I offered looked anything other than the onset of a full-blown panic attack.
Holy fucking FUCK. What the fuck was that? Did that really just happen? Did I really just do that? Am I insane? An asshole? A bad person? He definitely wanted it, right? I mean, I asked him. He said yeah. But…
Jesus fucking Christ. If my dickhead of a brother could have just been a little less of a gaping asshole, that wouldn’t have happened.
But Finn was into it. He was. I knew he was.
The way he moaned, and how hard he was… and his COCK!
Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker. I had no idea that boy was packing such heat in his pants.
Always kinda thought he was working with a little less than.
But no. Little Finny might be bigger than me.
My cock was hard. Part of the reason I needed to get the fuck away from the boys and my brother. And Finn. When I looked down, the bulge wasn’t bad. I was glad I didn’t take any of my smaller, tighter, gayer swimsuits.
The marina bathroom was tiny, filthy, and smelled like fish guts.
There was one small window letting in zero Florida sun, and the single bulb above my head flickered like it was begging to be put out of its misery.
It was the perfect setting to calm my dick the fuck down.
The image in the smudged, chipped mirror offered no solace.
No comfort or retreat. Only the bald-faced accusation that I had done something deeply shitty to Finn. A guy I actually liked.
And I did like Finn! More than I wanted to. More than I should. He was my little brother’s best friend, for fuck’s sake. And straight. At least to the world, at least to himself. He wasn’t. I knew that. But that didn’t mean he was ready to be manhandled on a fucking jet ski.
And all for what? Some kind of fucked up revenge?
It was just a joke between my sister and me, but that didn’t fucking matter, did it?
I wouldn’t have even considered doing anything like that had I not felt his goddamn boner on my ass while I was driving…
If I didn’t know how badly he wanted it.
Even if he didn’t know himself. That didn’t make it any better.
Jesus, I’m a piece of shit. What kind of psychopath does that?
Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck was wrong with me? Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
Jason? I think? Had apparently persuaded the guys to get an Uber back to the hotel instead of making that walk again.
I offered to pay and then sat in the passenger seat.
The only time I caught Finn’s eye was waiting to be picked up.
My face matched his in utter mortification and guilt.
I said nothing on the ride, and went to my—JESUS—our room once we arrived.
I locked the bathroom door. They all went to the pool, I think, including my roommate, but I locked it all the same. The much nicer, cleaner, and larger mirror offered no more comfort, no less accusation.
“Fuck,” I said, leaning over the sink. I had never felt so bad, while still so horny in my life.
I stripped my shirt and dropped my pants. My cock had gone down in the last bathroom I commiserated in, but as soon as he was in the open air, he stirred again.
The shower stall took up half the bathroom.
Its walls were a fancy textured tile that fit the theme of the overpriced, but underwhelming hotel I knew my brother would love.
When I picked that place, I had imagined taking long, luxurious showers.
Not once since we got there was I close to that fantasy.
I poured too much shampoo into my hands, but used it anyway. It ran down my face and stung my eyes. I let it, then washed the sting away under the gentle rain from the ceiling.
My chest hair needed a trim. I let a finger graze my nipple, once, twice, then I gave it a pinch. Just light enough to feel. Just a little pleasurable pop of nerve endings to help ease my racing mind. Because of what I did. To Finn.
My chest was broader than it had been since med school. But fuck, so was Finn’s. I wished I had slid my hand up his shirt, too. Felt those amazing abs and pecs myself. Fuck it, I wished my tongue had learned the ridges and curves of his entire flank.
And his arms? Goddamn, that boy knew how to sculpt muscle.
His shoulders and biceps were perfectly proportional to the rest of his body.
But, his face. Christ, how I wished I could have seen the look on that adorably handsome mug when I asked to touch him.
I wondered if he smiled or chewed his lip. Or if those goddamn dimples came out.
One hand had slipped down to my aching erection, gliding up and down in the excess soap from my chest. The other found my lips. I sucked my finger, imagining it still tasted of his precum.
But really, his cock. My goodness, what a pleasant surprise. So fucking big and thick. I’d love to gag on it. Or hold it like a joystick while I rearranged his guts, showing him what it was like to fuck a guy. Or let him do the fucking and feel that monster split me open.
I could see him below, or above me, in absolute ecstasy, realizing that dudes just taste better, right before he loses it. His ass clenching around me making me spill into him, or feeling him flood my deepest place. Those dimples shining, kissing me either way.
“Oh, FUCK!” I grunted as my cum stuck to the textured wall. It wasn’t a small shower load, even with how quickly I rubbed it out. At least five thick ropes clung to the tile. I had to gather little pools of water in my hand to wash it all off.
The humidity had fogged my face in the mirror, letting the damp warmth cocoon me in my post orgasm glow. My skin prickled in the overpriced room’s powerful AC.
Dry and miserable, I reevaluated while sitting on my new bed.
What I did might have been shitty in the broader, meta context, but he had said yes.
He was into it at the moment and could still be.
There was no evidence that he wasn’t suffering from a massive case of blue balls down at the pool, or wherever the fuck they went.
I looked up flights home again, but nothing had changed since that morning. I hadn’t been lying when I said the only one wasn’t until midnight, but I didn’t tell them it would cost close to a thousand dollars to change. Or that I was just one click away from confirming when they knocked.
The confirmation button glared at me, daring me to press it. I called my sister, Lena, instead.
“Hey, what’s up?” She sounded busy.
“Is this a bad time? I can call back,” I said.
“No. Fuck you. What’s up?”
“I had it out with Miles.”
“Oh, yeah!?” It sounded like she sat down or turned something off in the background. “What did you say? What did he say? What did the guys say when you said what you said?”
I had to laugh. I should’ve called her instead of shame-sturbating in the shower.
“No, it wasn’t a big deal. But we cursed each other out, and he called me a shitty brother.”
Lena cackled. “Fucking balls on him! Oh my god, I can’t even.”
“Yeah. It didn’t feel great.”
Her voice softened like our mother’s did. “I bet, Ry. That’s super shitty of him. Why don’t you just come home? I don’t know why you went in the first place.”
“I was about to. But Miles sent Finn and Tyler to not-apologize, and Tyler offered to switch rooms with me. So I stayed, and now I’m rooming with Finn.”
“Ohhhhh. Okay. So, I guess the mission is still on? Any progress?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “It’s not a mission. Just a joke. I didn’t even think you’d remember it, but… I did touch his dick on the jet ski.”
“Woooo!” She screeched through my phone speakers. “Mission revenge fuck the best man is alive and well!”
“Don’t call it that.” I used my serious, big brother voice.
“Sorry, mission fuck the best man ‘cause your brother is an asshole who asked, then un-asked you to be his best man, is alive and well.”
“I’m not gonna fuck him, Lena. What I did was already fucked up enough.”
“Wait, why? Finn’s been in love with you forever. Why was it fucked up?”
“Because he’s straight,” I said, and Lena laughed. “Even if he’s not… that wasn’t right of me. I would’ve freaked the fuck out if someone did that to me when I was in the closet.”
That was the understatement of the century.
Had some guy, even someone I beat off thinking about, tried to come onto me when I was in the closet, I’d have wrecked his face.
Finn didn’t. He indulged, but I still should’ve had a conversation with him about it first. I could’ve been so wrong. I was so wrong.
“Oh, get a fucking grip, Ry. Remember that time Mom made a joke about Finn being Miles’s brother-in-law one day? And he got all red in the face and stuttered until Mom said too bad that I had a boyfriend, or whatever she said, and he realized she was talking about me, not you?”
I remembered that vacation. Finn had tagged along. I was almost out of college, so they must have been seniors, and Lena was a junior. The look on Finn’s face was hilarious. And adorable. Fuck, why was he so goddamn cute?
“Either way, just trust me, it wasn’t right, and I need to apologize.”
“Okay, fine. Abort mission.” I could almost hear her eye roll. “But that doesn’t mean what Miles did wasn’t horrible. He’s still a major dick. If it’s not clear, you’re obviously the better brother.”
That hit me harder than it probably should’ve. My throat constricted, and I said, “Thanks, Le. Love you.”