The blood pooled around my groin area, heating my cock, and the pressure grew to be too much. Suddenly, hot spurts shot out of me, all over my hand and some on my jeans and couch. I let out a long groan, then my head fell back as the cum cooled on my hand and abs, my softening cock, still hanging out.
I tucked myself back in as best as I could with one hand, stood, and washed the cum off me in the kitchen. Then, I rested my hands on the counter and sighed. I felt even worse after that. I needed my cousin. There was no way around it.
I grabbed a water glass sitting on the counter as my frustration festered into rage.
“Fuck!” I yelled and threw the glass as hard as I could against the wall. It shattered glass everywhere, which didn’t help my morose mood. “Dammit, Lind…”
That was it. I was fucking over this. I was going over to his place to talk some goddamn sense into him, then I was going to tell him I loved him.
Decision made, I rushed back into the living room, grabbed my phone from the side table to call Linden, but before I could dial his number, someone knocked on my door.
I grumbled as I set my phone down and went to answer the door. When I opened it, my jaw fell to the ground. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine seeing my cousin on my doorstep, wearing makeup, and it… looked fucking good. Professionally done.
“Linden,” I choked out and gathered him in my arms. “Lind… Beautiful Lind.”
“Hugh,” he replied and hugged me back, gripping my shirt in tight fists.
I peeked over his shoulder to find Atlas, so I tugged him to me, too, and we all held on, standing on my porch.
The fucking relief that swelled through me left me breathless, and my eyes watered.
“You came back,” I said, choking on the words to keep from releasing all my pain in a sob.
He eased me off him, still gripping my shoulders. “We need to talk.”
I reached for his face and gently ran my thumb across his plump, red-painted bottom lip. “Did you do this, Atlas?”
“Yes,” was all he said.
I stepped back to let them inside, then I closed the front door behind us. As we made our way to the living room, I asked. “Do you all want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a bourbon if you have it,” Linden said, shoving his hands into his jeans.
Atlas gave me a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes. That didn’t bode well, but I suppose they were there so we could finally talk. “Nothing for me.” He sat on the floor by the Christmas tree, and when Mrs. Peach walked over to him, he picked her up and put her on his lap. He was frowning heavily, so I prepared for the worst when I went to grab a drink for Linden. It took whatever remaining willpower I had left not to freak out. My gut twisted painfully from the fear that Linden wanted to leave us.
I refreshed my glass and handed Linden his. He chugged his drink back and coughed a few times. “Smooth,” he gasped.
I was afraid to open my mouth and start asking questions. What if they came over to let me down? No one looked fucking happy, that was for sure.
“Well… spill it,” I finally snapped, quickly losing my patience as I braced myself for the worst.
Linden set his empty glass on the coffee table, groaned, and was about to rub his face before he remembered he was wearing makeup. It was subtle except for the lipstick. While I loved elegance and feminine things, Linden didn’t belong in them.
“I love you,” he blurted.
My heart stopped, and my breath caught. What? He didn’t mean he loved me like family, right? No, he meant what I thought he did. Of all things, his telling me he loved me wasn’t on my bingo card of expectations and anticipations.
Usually, Linden was relaxed, casual, and at ease. Now, he was tightly wound and tense, unable to look at me.
I set my glass down next to his, processing his confession.
“For how long?” As much as I wanted to say I loved him back, I needed to know. It was important. How long depended on how I approached it.
He couldn’t look at me, staring down at his hands resting on his lap. “Since… always.”
Always?
“So long.”
