I feel the way Will’s muscles contract. But either I misinterpreted how uncomfortable that made him, or he’s choosing to ignore it.
“Between that and waking up humping my foster brother’s leg on the regular, I’d say I’m allowed to feel pretty pathetic.”
His throat clicks with a swallow. “It’s not pathetic to need something or someone, Ari.”
“It is if you’re the only one who ever needs it.”
Will rolls his hips again, and my breath catches. There’s just enough light to see the uncertainty on his face.
I can’t let this happen. It would change everything. Ruin it.
My best friend. My brother. My everything.
“Don’t,” I rasp. “You don’t have to do this?—”
“Shh,” Will whispers. “It’s not like that. It’s good. It’s just… different.”
I open my mouth to protest more, but Will reaches for my hands, presses them above my head, and thrusts against me again. My mind goes blank. My legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass and encouraging him to keep moving. The friction is so fucking good, and yet not enough.
Will moans, and I swear the sound of it is enough to turn me feral.
“Ari, I need to tell you—” His voice is muffled in the side of my neck.
Lost to the madness that has been building up inside me for years, I hook a thigh around the back of one of his legs and turn my body. Will lets me roll on top of him.
“Later,” I growl softly, as Will grips my hips to keep me in place, thrusting up against me. It’s a slow, intense grind. Heavy breaths and moans fill the room, and I wish I could hear our skin slapping together. I wish there was no barrier between us. I wish I was truly riding him the way I’ve been imagining since he started watching me while someone else got to have him.
Will’s hands are gripping my ass, fingers digging into my flesh as he guides me to grind on him. Whether purposely or accidentally, one hand slips down the back of my pajama bottoms and his fingers brush over my crack. My breath hitchesand I look down at his helpless expression, eyes hooded, mouth open.
Keeping his eyes locked on mine, as if testing that this is okay.Fuck yes, it’s okay! Please, for the love of God, don’t stop!One finger gently rubs across my hole.
He makes a sound that could be a cross between a groan and an exhale, the wordwettumbling from his lips. His finger presses gently against me, and I nearly cry out with need. Maybe I do. I don’t know. I don’t know what this is, or what we’re doing, or what is happening. I just know that Ineedit.
I rock back against his hand, encouraging him by flexing my core and pushing out so he can feel my asshole pulse with the need to be filled. His finger just barely slips inside, and he gasps before giving it more pressure and pushing through the barrier. Now he’s knuckle deep, still guiding me to rock against his hard cock, and I’m quickly reaching a point of no return. I move my hips in a circle and rock back on his hand, trying to reach that aching space inside me. When he touches it, my whole body lights up and clenches.
Will surges up with a gasp, and for a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. But he’s panting, open mouth against mine, sharing breath. He cries out his release. I shudder and throw my head back. Will's mouth lands on my throat, and I come with a shout. It hits me harder than the poppers ever could, sending me into the stratosphere before I’m spinning back to earth.
The post-nut clarity hits me fast for having come so hard, but I’m immediately tense over what the fallout is going to be.
What did we just do?
NINE
WILL
Shrill beeps that are too reminiscent of Ari’s heart monitor from the hospital drag me roughly from a deep sleep. I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, silencing it before looking at the name flashing across the screen. My heart jumps into my throat when I see Blake’s name.
As quietly as I can, I extricate myself from Ari’s sleeping form and slip out of bed, easing the covers back over him. We’re going to have to deal with everything that happened last night, but for now at least I have a reprieve. I can gather my thoughts rather than have him watch me process as I’m bombarded with guilt over my actions.
I’ve just stepped out onto the back porch when Blake calls a second time, and I know for sure that I’m in trouble.
“Good mo?—”
“Is it true,” Blake says without preamble, “that you and Ari went to some hole in the wall bar and threatened the owner?”
I stop short of even taking a breath, searching for a way to explain myself.
“Threatened is a strong word,” I say carefully. “The bartender was being inappropriate, tried to get Ari to go to the bathroom with him. I was worried about it ending up on TMZ or something.”
