“Darren, who’s on the phone?” Karen asked in the background.
“It’s Wren and Eli. They’re calling to wish us a happy Thanksgiving,” Darren shouted.
“I need you. Can you get off the phone?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, boys, but I have to?—”
“No, Dad, I wanted to talk to you. Can we talk?” Wren watched me.
I shook my head. Obviously, they were busy, and if he tried to bring up their last conversation now, it wouldn’t fare well.
“I mean, maybe another day. I’d like to come and see my baby brother.” His brows wrinkled. “I have a game tomorrow and?—”
“It’s too soon for you to see him. We don’t want him to get sick, so we’re not having anyone over. I have to go.” He ended the call.
Dropping the phone onto his lap, Wren hung his head. “What the hell should I do now?” He sniffled. “Fuck, Eli.” He turned into me, burying his face in my neck.
“Shhh, babe. He’s flustered. Think about it. The last time he had a newborn was twenty-two years ago, and even then, I’ll bet your mom managed most of the childcare.” I held him to my chest, brushing my hand down the back of his hair. “I have a feeling Karen won’t stand for that.”
Choking out a chuckle, he said, “Yeah, I think you’re right. If nothing else, she gives Dad a run for his money.”
“Literally.” I pressed a kiss on his head. “Let’s go see if Malik will relinquish some whiskey for a good cause.” I squeezed him. “Are you okay?”
He swiped his eyes. “Yes, I will be.” With a sigh, he rose. “Let’s go. I need to forget a few things.” He ambled toward the door.
“And we have pumpkin pie, too.” I followed him through the hallway and into the main room. It had been a long time since I’d seen him drunk. This could be interesting.
After hangingout with Malik and Tex, playing Madden and letting Wren forget his problems with a few shots of whiskey, weretired to my bedroom. “How are you feeling?” I shut the door behind us. Wren was just starting to slur.
“Great.” He plopped at the foot of my bed. “Come here.” He waved me over to him.
Was it okay for us to have sex? He had a look in his eyes. But he was drunk. I stepped to him and between his open legs. “Wren, you’ve had a lot to drink. Maybe we should go to bed.”
“Those were my thoughts exactly. Go to bed.” He cupped my balls, rubbing his thumb across my plumping shaft. “I want you, Eli.” He peeked up at me with darkened eyes and swept his tongue across his lips. “Have I had a few drinks? Yes. Do I care? No.” He slipped the band of my underwear and joggers down. “First, I want to suck you off a little, and then? I want to top, but this time, I want you facing me. I want to pretend I’m fucking you on the kitchen counter like you did to me.”
I muttered, “Oh, sweet Jesus.” As a shiver played up my spine, I bit my lower lip. How could I turn him down? He knew what he wanted. As my cock swelled and pointed at his face, I said, “You sure you’re up for this?” I’d want him to remember tonight.
With a coy grin, he said, “Does it look like I’m up for it?” He pulled the band of his joggers and briefs out, the head of his solid cock pointing upward, precum beading at the tip. “I’m not leaving here until you let me have what I want.” He shoved my joggers and underwear to my thighs and plunged his mouth over my aching dick, taking deep inside, to his throat. As I moaned, he fisted the root and twisted his head.
“Oh, fuck.” Tipping my head back, I clutched his hair and rocked my hips as pleasure shot across my body. There was no way to deny him. As his mouth slipped over my sensitive cock, he fluttered his tongue across the crown. Flickers of tension knotted inside my gut. I’d do anything he asked.
With one hand, he tugged on my dick, and with the other, he palmed his own. After a minute, he pulled off with a wet pop. “Get on the bed naked, spread-eagle.” He rose and shucked hissweatshirt to the floor, then kicked out of his joggers and briefs. “Lie on your back.”
I did as I was told, climbing onto the bed after undressing and lying on my back, my knees raised, propped on my elbows, exposing my hole. I didn’t think we could completely recreate the kitchen incident. I wasn’t nearly as flexible as he was, and the bed wasn’t as high, but we could pretend. “How do you want to do this?”
Crawling onto the bed on his knees, he tilted his head with one side of his lips curling. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are right now?” He licked his lips and as he padded between my legs, he skimmed his hand across my thigh, up my abs and pinched a nipple.
“Uh…” My body shuddered with pleasure-pain, and my dick bobbed off my stomach. “I’m all yours, babe.” Fucking hell, it turned me on when he took charge like this.
Reaching across me, he slid my nightstand drawer open, grabbed the lube and slathered it on his fingers. “I think this’ll be a quick fuck. I don’t have the patience to draw it out.” As he hovered over me on a straight arm, he glided his fingers inside my crack and slipped them across my hole.
I puckered and gasped as pleasure jolted through me, my dick pulsing and leaking a thread of precum onto my stomach.
“You really like this, don’t you, babe?” He lowered, slipping a finger inside me, and claimed me in hungry kisses.
His pumping finger rubbed across my prostate, and sparks lit behind my eyes. I moaned into his kisses as my thighs trembled.
“You’re so tight, babe. Can’t wait to be inside you.” He sucked my lower lip into his mouth and freed it, then nibbled across my jawline. “Fuck, I’m dripping.” After biting my neck, he flicked his tongue across it.
