“Fuck,” he breathed. “James, I?—”
I silenced him with another kiss, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against his as I showed him what I wanted. At the same time, I reached down, undoing the button of my jeans. Lifting my hips, I slid them low enough so my cock sprang free at last. Kent pulled back just long enough to pull out his own cock, the heat of his skin pressing against mine deliciously.
Without hesitation, I wrapped my hand around us both and began to stroke, our pre-cum mixing into a pleasant slickness that had us moaning into each other’s mouths.
“Fuck,” Kent groaned, his hips seeking friction against mine. “Fuck James… that feels good…”
I tightened my grip, increasing the pace as Kent’s breathing grew ragged against my neck. His hand came up to cover mine, guiding the rhythm faster, more desperate. The fact that this was his first time touching another man like this, being touched by another man, made everything feel more intense.
“Is this okay?” I asked, my voice wrecked with lust.
“Better than okay,” he panted, his hips thrusting into our joined hands. “God, James, I didn’t know it could feel like this.”
I kissed him again, swallowing his moans as I worked us both toward the edge. His free hand gripped my shoulder hard enough to bruise, and I loved it. Loved the way he was coming undone beneath me, loved the desperate sounds he made, loved that I was the one making him feel this way.
“I’m close,” he warned, his voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Let go,” I urged against his lips. “I want to see you cum.”
That was all it took. Kent’s entire body went rigid, his cock pulsing in my hand as he came with a strangled cry. The sight and sound of it pushed me over the edge, my own orgasm hitting me like a freight train as I spilled over our joined hands.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, foreheads pressed together as we came down from the high. My hand was sticky with our combined release, and I should probably have felt some kind of shame or regret. But all I felt was satisfied.
“Holy shit,” Kent finally said, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah,” I agreed, reluctantly pulling away to grab some tissues from my nightstand. I cleaned us both up as best I could, Kent watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“You okay?” I asked, suddenly worried that he was already regretting this.
“I...” He paused, his face running the gamut of emotions. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.” I reached out for him, but he pulled away. I dropped my hand, giving him space. “I know it’s a lot to process.”
“I’m going for a walk,” he said abruptly, pushing himself up. He quickly pulled up his sweatpants and headed for the door. “I just need a minute to think.”
“Do you want me to come with you?—”
“No,” he snapped. Then he looked back at me, regret filling his eyes. “I mean…fuck.”
Without another word, he grabbed his keys and left, the door slamming behind him.
What had I done?
Chapter 15
Kent
The night was cool, and the rain was already starting to fall. I hadn’t brought a jacket, but I didn’t dare turn back. Not now. Not after what I’d just done with mystepbrother.
At first, all I felt was anger. I fell back into my old thoughts, blaming James for everything. If I hadn’t come to live with him, this wouldn’t have happened. My life and everything in it wouldn’t be upside down. Now I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted all because of James. If he’d just chosen to benormal, none of this would’ve happened.
But then the other thoughts broke through. James didn’tchooseto be gay. I knew that now. Because I hadn’tchosento be attracted to him. It just happened. Why now and why him were still a mystery though.
The rain started coming down harder, soaking through my shirt within minutes. I welcomed the cold, the discomfort. It felt like penance for something, though I wasn’t sure what. For jerking off with my stepbrother? For liking it? For running away after?
I walked without direction, my feet carrying me down streets I barely registered. The sidewalks were empty, everyone elsesmart enough to get out of the rain. But I kept walking, letting the water plaster my hair to my forehead and drip into my eyes.
The helpline counselor’s words echoed in my head.Sexual orientation can be fluid. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for who you are.
