“Tell me where to come. Tell me where I can come,” I pleaded, the orgasm so close that even if I was supposed to wait for permission, I wouldn’t have been able to hold off one second longer. “I’ll come on your face, Daddy. Sir, ohfuuuuuuck…”
I came with the memory of Hunter’s slack jaw and hooded eyes on the backs of my eyelids. Imagined pulling my cock out of his mouth, slick with spit and tears, shooting my load across his swollen lips and his freshly shaven cheeks. Hunter’s name tumbled out of my mouth as loud as a thunderclap, and when the first shot of cum burst out of my cock, my knees trembled and gave out entirely.
My ass hit the floor of the shower hard enough to hurt, but the cum still geysered out of my dick like I had an endless supply of it for this one, earthquaking orgasm. Two more strokes and it hurt to touch myself, but the orgasm was still tight and aggressive in the base of my spine, so I fought through it until I had to cover my eyes and cry out for how bad—how good—it felt.
Finally, my balls were empty, and my arms fell uselessly at my sides. The warm water rained down against my chest, my face, my stomach, rinsing me clean while I caught my breath. Groaning, I forced myself onto my hands and knees, then up onto my feet. The camera still recorded, and I made sure to give Hunter a good look at my dilated pupils and my flushed cheeks before swiping my finger over the record button the end the video.
“I think I’m in love with you,” I muttered.
And fuck if that wasn’t the worst news I’d had since Cassandra died.
CHAPTER 18
HUNTER
As soon as I sat down across from Smith at lunch, he knew something was up. It was written clear as day in the lines around his mouth that he had no business having on account of how young he was. He eyed me warily, and I adjusted the knot on my tie to give me some breathing room.
“Is there another one?” he asked, mouth pulling down into a frown.
“What?”
“Another brother.”
I scoffed, leaning back in my seat and hoping it portrayed an air of casualness. I didn’t want to set off any alarm bells with the conversation, and I definitely didn’t want him to think whatever I had to talk to him about was serious. Telling him about Lincoln should be an easy thing. If they were really just friends, then it shouldn’t matter at all that I was involved with him. At least, that’s what I’d been telling myself all morning.
“Statistically, I’m sure we have another brother,” I admitted to him, “but I don’t know about him yet.”
He barely looked relieved. “Is someone dying?”
“What? No.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Why would you ask that?”
“Why did you invite me to lunch?” he countered.
I shot a scathing look at him across the table. “Because I’m your brother.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re the quiet brother. Marshall is the controlling one, and Finn is the talker. So why are you the one talking?”
I paused, reflecting on his observation about the group of us. He was clearly right on the mark about Marshall, though there was a much better word to use than controlling, even if I surely wasn’t going to be the one to introduce my baby brother to…
No.
Wait.
Lincoln had told me Smith knew abouthim, which meant Smith…
I shuddered, not wanting to know about any of my brothers’ sex lives, least of all the youngest one. He was barely of age in the first place.
“You’re not wrong that I keep to myself more than the rest of us,” I conceded. “But if that’s the truth of all of us, which brother are you?”
Smith scrunched his nose and shrugged. “What did you want to talk about, Hunter? If it’s not a new brother or someone dying.”
“We have a mutual friend,” I said, not sure how else to start.
Smith arched a brow at me, and he looked so much like Marshall, even though they shared hardly any facial features between them. “Okay.”
Sitting across from my brother in a loud Thai restaurant in the middle of a Tuesday, on the brink of telling him about Lincoln, suddenly felt silly. Smith wouldn’t care at all. Marshall had spent so many years trying to coddle him and shelter him from the realities of the world, and that was the last thing Smithneeded…or wanted, probably. I didn’t think any of us had ever bothered to ask.
“In hindsight, I thought this would be more of a problem,” I muttered, which at least earned me a smirk. “I’m seeing Lincoln.”
