Chapter 16
I wake up confused—which, yeah, standard.
My brain’s still booting up when the weight on my hips registers, followed by the familiar heat pinned against my back and a thick dick nestled right between my cheeks.
Routine shit. My muscles immediately go lax, prepping for use, but then I realize Reid isn’t fucking me.
He’s just holding me. Arms locked around my waist like I’m some teddy bear, his breath warm against the nape of my neck.
I wonder if we moved at all during the night.
I blink at the wall, and just let out a dumb, “Uh.”
“You slept like the dead.” His nose nudges my neck, inhaling slowly. “Didn’t even snore.”
“...Did anyone…?”
“Walker tried.” Reid’s arms tighten possessively. “Told him to fuck off.”
It’s not hard to picture Walker padding in at dawn, fully bricked and expecting his usual morning fuck, only to find Reid curled around me like a guard dog. Guess Walker wasn’t happy about missing out on a happy ending this time around.
Reid’s fingers trail down my stomach, dipping under the waistband of my boxers. But instead of his usual grab-and-go grip, he merely traces the lines of my hips, his thumb rubbing idle circles into the divot of my pelvis. It’s fucking weird. Nice-weird.
“You’re always… soft here. In the morning.”
I don’t know what to do with that. Dolls shouldn’t get noticed like this—not outside the context of being a warm hole to use. But Reid’s touching me like he’s cataloging the differences between my awake body and my doll one.
His fingertips skate higher, brushing my nipple, and holy fuck, it’s still sensitive from last night. My breath hitches. Reid freezes.
“Sorry,” he mutters, but he doesn’t pull away.
His palm settles over my pec instead, thumb rubbing slow arcs around the swollen bud, then it slides down, slow and absent.
“Bro,” I mutter, half into the pillow. My voice comes out sleep-rough and cracking at the edges.
Reid hums, his nose buried in the back of my neck.
“You’re—” I swallow hard as his fingers dip lower, brushing the trail of hair leading straight to my junk. And it’s not even deliberate. It’s just lazy, half-asleep exploration. “You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?” His lips drag over my shoulder blade.
“The—” My throat clicks. “The doll thing. But I’m not…“
I’m not offline right now. Not blank-eyed and pliant, not spread open and waiting. Right now, I’m just Kit—sleep-mussed and confused.
Reid stills. His hand flexes against my stomach as if he’s debating pulling away. Then he exhales, rough, and his grip tightens.
“So?”
“So it’s weird.”
“Yeah?” His teeth graze my nape, making me shiver. “Bad?”
It’s definitely not bad. Not even close.
This, right here, is what I’ve been running through my head lately.
What it’d be like with one of them not treating me like a fucktoy.
Not that I don’t love getting passed around like a communal fleshlight, but this?
Reid’s fingers tracing lazy patterns over my hipbone, his dick pressed against my ass without slamming inside, his breath warming the back of my neck? It’s… fuck. It’s nice.
A stupid part of my brain wonders if Reid even realizes we’re cuddling. If he knows this shit feels borderline romantic, all tangled up and breathing each other in. The rest of me doesn’t dare ask because fuck if I’m gonna ruin this by making him bolt.
“So?” Reid’s teeth graze the shell of my ear. His breath hitches when I shiver, his grip tightening around my waist like he’s afraid I am the one who will leave if he lets go. “Is it bad?”
“N-no.”
He hums, and the vibration against my neck sends another shudder down my spine.
“Didn’t think so.”
He nips at my ear again, and I jerk against him with a choked noise. His lips seal over the spot instantly, sucking the lobe into his mouth while his tongue flicks the sensitive skin behind it. My brain whites out for a second, my dick pulsing against my thigh.
“Fuck,” I mutter, fisting the sheets.
It’s weird having the freedom to move when one of the guys is messing with me. Usually, I’d be sprawled out, letting them manhandle me however they want. But right now, I’m just Kit—wired and twitchy, keeping my hands to myself so I don’t look like some desperate virgin.
“Good?”
I nod, or try to. My body’s gone lax, pliant in a way that’s not doll-mode, just fucking boneless from the way Reid’s touching me.
“Yeah,” I say. “S’just weird. Being… awake for it.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah.”
He nips at my ear once more. It’s not even hard, just a teasing little bite, but my cock throbs like he’s got it on a string.
“So,” Reid murmurs. “That guy last night.”
“What about him?”
“Were you flirting with him?”
“Not… exactly.”
“But you were gonna leave with him.”
“Yeah.”
Reid’s grip tightens around my waist. “You’d let him fuck you?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“Why?”
I blink at the wall, my brain scrambling for an answer that doesn’t sound stupid as hell.
Reid is not Miles. Talking to Miles last night was easier because he was visibly losing his mind, too.
Miles is confused, figuring it out in real time, which made me feel less insane about my own mess.
Reid, on the other hand, doesn’t look confused at all about his sexuality—even though he’s all over me right now.
“Dunno,” I end up saying, lamely. “Wanted to know if I actually like guys, or if it’s just the doll thing. ”
“What’s the difference?”
“Like—” I try to figure out how to explain this without it sounding stupid.
“In doll mode my body just cooperates. Someone touches me, and it responds because that’s what bodies do when they get stimulated.
But that’s not the same as actually wanting someone, right?
It’s not the same as seeing a guy and thinking—yeah, I wanna tap that. ”
Reid hums, soft, his fingers skating lower to cup my half-hard cock through my boxers.
“Doesn’t this count?”
The audacity of this man.
“Dude—”
“You’re hard,” he murmurs, squeezing a little. “Isn’t it proof enough? You get hard when a man touches you.”
I genuinely have to grip the sheets to stop myself from rutting against his palm with zero chill. And okay, yeah, maybe I don’t have any, but I have some dignity left. Okay, I don’t have that either. Whatever.
“My body’s already—you guys have been doing this for months, okay? My body is basically Pavloved at this point. Someone lays hands on me and I’m already halfway gone. That’s not the same as actually being attracted to someone.”
Reid exhales through his nose. “If you wanna know if you like guys, I can help you find out.”
“How?”
“Data points. Isn’t that what you engineer boys do? Start small. One variable at a time.”
“Like?”
“Ever kissed a guy?”
“No.”
“There’s your first data point.”
My brain stutters. “Yeah. Could work.”
Reid hums low in his throat. His arm shifts from around my waist, guiding me over until I’m rolling onto my side to face him. His hand finds my hip again the second I settle, automatic.
I’ve seen Reid every day for months. I know his face.
I know the resting-asshole expression and the dry almost-smile.
But this close, in the thin morning light coming through the curtains, it’s different.
His eyes are usually so dark, but this close I can actually see the color.
Deep brown. Like the bottom of a really good cup of coffee.
He watches me watch him and doesn’t say anything about it.
I become very aware of my dick, which is still hard and pressing against his hip. He is aware of it too, and makes zero moves to acknowledge it or create distance.
“Okay?” he asks, quiet.
I nod, brain short-circuiting when his fingers slide along my jaw, tilting my face up. Reid’s mouth twitches into a smile, then he leans in very slow, giving me time to bolt.
I don’t.
His lips press against mine, dry at first. Then his tongue flicks my bottom lip, questioning, and my whole body tenses. Reid freezes like he’s waiting for me to shove him off, but I just tilt my head, letting him in.
It’s nothing like kissing girls. Reid doesn’t taste like cherry gloss or mint gum—just cigarettes and sleep. His teeth catch my lip, and I gasp into his mouth, my hips jerking up against his thigh. It’s weirdly soft, too. Not like the claiming thing he does when I’m dolled out. This is careful.
This is good.
His lips are softer than they look, too.
I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does, and I suck on his bottom lip, a little shy, but wanting to feel it.
He tilts his head slightly, shifting the angle and somehow that’s better.
I feel my hand come up, without my conscious decision, and land flat on his chest.
Reid groans.
“Yeah,” he mutters against my lips. “You like that.”
It’s not a question.
I do.
Fuck, I do.
But I won’t just say that. I’m not that easy.
“Dunno,” I say, a little dazed. “Need more data.”
Reid grins, and his hand slides from my hip to the small of my back. Then his mouth is on mine again.
This one’s different—still lazy, but deeper. His tongue slides against mine, exploring, and I kiss him back properly this time. He makes that sound again, slightly less quiet, and his hand flexes against my back.
His dick is hard against my thigh, but he doesn’t grind into me. He also doesn’t try to touch my own very hard one. We just kiss and kiss and kiss, his breath hitching when I bite his lip, when I arch up against him, when I grab his hair.
Reid pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes flickering over my face.
“So?”
My brain’s basically offline at this point.
“Uh.”
“Was the data point useful?” He brushes his thumb on the corner of my mouth, swiping away spit “Good?”
“Yeah.” I blink at him, dazed. “Super… uh, scientific.”
Reid huffs, almost a laugh.
The door creaks open—Walker, probably, judging by the way he doesn’t bother knocking.
“Yo, the fuck? You two cuddling?”
I look over Reid’s head and it’s Walker all right, gym bag slung over his shoulder, sweat still gleaming on his chest.
“No,” I say quickly, letting go of Reid’s hair and backing up so fast my skull cracks against the wall.
“Uh-huh.” Walker drops his bag with a thud, crossing his arms. “Doll’s awake already?”
I rub the back of my head, glaring at him. “Nope. Totally inanimate object here. Just vibing.”
Walker snorts, stepping closer, his gym-sweat scent mixing with Reid’s cigarette-and-sleep.
“Bro.” He gives me a look. “Bad fucking luck, dude. I came back from the gym earlier just to get a go at the doll’s ass before class but you’re already—” he gestures at my entire situation— “awake. And apparently cuddling.”
“I just said—”
“Such bad luck.” He shakes his head mournfully.
I roll my eyes so hard I briefly lose vision. Reid chooses this moment to tighten his grip around me, and there’s no way to say that’s not cuddling. Asshole. But my chest flutters, and that makes me freak out a little, so I shove at his chest, struggling to untangle myself from his octopus limbs.
“Fuck off, both of you. I’m late to class.”
Walker’s voice follows me into the hall, loud and shit-eating. “Hey Reid. At least you weren’t able to hit it either, man.”
Then Reid’s amused voice: “Wouldn’t say that.”
My stomach flips.
I bolt before I can process that, before my traitor dick can get any harder, but not fast enough to miss Walker’s choked laugh, the wet sound of a slap—probably a high-five even though Walker doesn’t know the context of Reid’s words.
The bathroom door slams behind me, and I brace my hands on the sink, staring at my reflection—flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, hair fucked-out. My cock aches, leaking a fat stripe of pre-cum down my thigh.
Fuck.
Okay.
So.
I think I got my answers.