“I want your dick. Give me your cock, Lane.”
“Goddamn it.” I pulled my fingers out, replacing them with my erection in one smooth, deep movement.
He looked over his shoulder, and I crushed our mouths together, trying to keep us both quiet.
My body was already splintering apart, only three pumps of my hips before my balls drew tight, giving in to the hot suction of his ass. My release burst out of me in a hot rush—once, twice, three times, then another, until my load just trickled out of me.
“God, I needed that,” Isaac said quietly.
“And you’ll always have it,” I promised.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Isaac
That was…really fucking stupid. “We shouldn’t have done that here.”
Lane sighed. “No, we shouldn’t have, but we did, and I wouldn’t change it.”
No, I wouldn’t either. We’d needed each other, and we’d been there for each other. I wouldn’t wish that away.
“The house is made of good bones,” Lane continued. “I doubt anyone heard us. Plus, Mom and Da—Timothy are on the ground floor.”
I frowned. “I told you, you can call him Dad. You always have. You shouldn’t lose that by being with me.”
Lane shrugged off my concern. “It’s fine. I’m going to throw some clothes on to go get cleaned up.”
While he did, I picked up his notebook. There were numerous sketches of me, all in various positions of sleep. I loved being his muse, loved holding Lane’s attention that way. I closed the book and made sure to put it in his bag.
When he came back, I went down to do the same. The house was quiet, all the lights off. I really didn’t believe anyone heard us, but it still felt wrong to have fucked there.
The rest of the weekend was similar to the first day. We spent time together, went to the park, played games, ate good food, one big happy family, no one knowing the secret Lane and I were keeping—one we couldn’t hold forever. Sooner or later, we would have to tell our parents who we were to each other.
When we returned to my condo, we fell back into our routine, where none of the other shit mattered. We laughed and talked and fucked. I gave him shit for being messy, and he walked around the house like the nudist he apparently was, painting art of faceless men, painting us.
It was a Saturday morning, a few weeks after the family get-together. Lane was painting naked, as always, and I was cleaning the kitchen, when my cell rang. I looked down to see Hutch’s name on the screen. We hadn’t caught up in a while, and I immediately felt guilty. I was so wrapped up in my own life, I’d forgotten he was going through some major shit too. Last we’d spoken, his family basically wasn’t talking to him.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” I asked him.
“Better, actually.”
I cocked a brow, even though he couldn’t see me, and leaned against the counter. “Must be if you’re calling to talk to me like a normal human being…and not keeping your feelings inside. What is this magic? Who are you, and what happened to the Hutch I know?”
He chuckled. “Aaaaand, fuck off. You’re not much better.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. I’m much, much better than you, than most people really,” I teased, enjoying a laugh with him. “Seriously, though. How is everything?”
“It’s good. Maddy has forgiven us. I had long-overdue conversations with my parents. I’m…fuck, I’m happy, Isaac. I’m happy, and I’m in love, and I can’t let myself feel guilty about that.”
A swell of pride filled my chest, mixed with a little envy. “Good for you, man. I’m happy for you.”
God, I wanted what Hutch had, but the only way to do that was to actually move forward.
I rubbed a hand over my face, frustrated with myself for my insecurities. I was tired, so fucking tired of keeping in how I felt about Lane. “I’m in love with Lane,” I admitted, and damned if that wasn’t almost as freeing as it had been when I’d told him.
The line was quiet for a moment. I waited for Hutch to take that in. Hoping he wouldn’t feel the disgust I figured a lot of people would when they found out. I’d deal with it, but I didn’t want that for Lane.
“Does he feel the same?”
“Yes.”
“Who knew he had such bad taste?” Hutch said. “I’m gonna have to talk to him about that.”
Warmth filled me, came close to overheating me, and I’d welcome the burn. It was…fuck, it was the perfect response. “I’m a motherfucking catch,” I told him.
“And slightly delusional.”
“He’s my brother,” I replied, getting serious.
“He’s your stepbrother, as you made sure to tell me before. It doesn’t matter if other people see it differently. That’s not the reality of the situation. All that matters is that you love him, Isaac. And you have for a long time, haven’t you?”