Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I swat his hand away.
And he puts it back a moment later.
I’m hit with adrenaline and I scowl at him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I whisper to him.
Hunter stands up, watching me as I tuck my cock back in and pull up my sweatpants, right before Wes walks in.
“Yo,” Weston says as he loops around the open passageway, leaning on the wood of the arch.
Weston looks at me.
Then at Hunter.
Then back at me.
“Hey,” I say to him, and I feel like I should say something more but right now, I forget how the English language works.
My heart’s like a war drum inside me.
I feel like Weston can smell the sex on us. Like he must be able to tell, just from looking, every lurid, terrible detail of what I just did to his brother.
“What’s up?” Weston says, still looking between us like he’s missing something.
Not much.
My cock’s still slick with your brother’s spit.
My cum is still in his throat.
I swallow hard, still trying to remember how to speak to the person who is usually the easiest for me to talk to.
“Just chilling,” I finally say.
He pauses for a second, then nods once.
“Well. The food is ready,” he says, glaring at Hunter before walking away.
Hunter chews on his lower lip as Weston walks off. I feel like I just dodged a thousand bullets, and I don’t know whether I want to sock Hunter in the face for calling Wes into here or thank the skies above that he didn’t ask any more questions.
He might ask them later, but that’s a problem for future me to deal with.
My heart leaps in my chest as Hunter moves in close to me again.
For a moment I think he might be about to choke me out. Threaten me. Warn me about some fucked-up thing.
But instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
He’s so gentle. So warm and soft that it almost feels like he's someone else.
Like he’s someone kind.
Someone who could care about me, or care about anyone.
“Why did you have to do that?” I whisper as he pulls away from my lips. “Do you want your brother to hate both of us for the rest of his life? Because you know that’s what will happen if he ever finds out.”
He lets out a long breath. “I don’t want him to find out. But fucking with you is the most fun I’ve had in years, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to stop myself.”
He puts his hand on the back of my neck. He strokes my hair with his fingers as he gives me a hard stare.
I watch the silvery-grey flecks in his eyes and it feels alarming to realize that I’m closer to Hunter now than ever.
“Weston can never know about us, and he never will,” Hunter says.
He’s only an inch away.
Right now, it’s difficult not to lean in and kiss his lips again.
I want to. Despite everything.
“Thank you,” I say.
“I like knowing that you’re mine,” he says. “You’re mine when you’re fucking my mouth, or when you’re in class, or when you’re out playing football. You’re mine every time my brother looks at us. I’m going to protect you from whoever is after you, and it’ll be easier if you just accept that.”
My heart feels like it’s too big for my chest again.
I should be freaked out by what he’s saying, but instead, my body responds to it like a challenge.
Game on.
“Treat me like I’m your new favorite toy all you want,” I murmur. “Sure felt like you were the one who belonged to me when I was throat-fucking you, Knox.”
“I take good care of my toys. I will for you, too.”
I don’t believe a single word of it.
Hunter and Weston have never cared much about toys, anyway. Back in high school their stepmom had a habit of getting them new gadgets and technology and very nice cars anytime the boys asked. She showered them with gifts, because she wanted her new stepsons to love her.
And they never stayed interested in any of them for long.
Guys who had everything got bored of everything fast.
Hunter would drop me like a broken toy the moment he got bored of me.
I couldn’t let myself forget that.
“You think I owe a single thing to you?” I ask him. “You were supposed to tell me about London. I’m not going to forget about it, Knox.”
He looks so good it’s hard to comprehend. His lashes, his milky skin, his cheekbones. Hunter could be an actor if he wanted to be. His face is made to be looked at, and made to be admired. And I still can’t really believe I’m so close to it.
That the flame of his attention is suddenly very much aimed at me.
He presses another kiss onto my forehead. “You don’t owe me anything. You just belong to me. Get used to it.”