Finally, I cut my eyes at him.
“I’m supposed to take care of you, Hanlon. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s what’s expected of me now, as evidenced by the daily fucking check-in texts I get from our parents.”
Hanlon smirks. “I would argue that youdidtake care of me.”
“Be serious,” I groan. I try to glare at him, but it’s hard when he looks good enough to eat, and those slutty fucking glasses of his keep taunting me.
“Iamserious,” he says,taking a step inside my room.
Mybedroom.
Where my bed is.
And Hanlon and I now are.
And no one else.
“Why do you think I asked you those questions last night? This is what I wanted to avoid,” he says, stepping closer.
“I fuckingcameon you, Hanlon. We couldn’t avoid that even if we tried,” I snap, backing up.
He waves me off as though my spilling my release on his dick is no big deal.
“Technically, you came on yourself. We were wearing boxers, remember?”
“How are you so fucking calm about this?” I ask.And why is he still moving closer?
Hanlon lifts one shoulder in a shrug.
“When I was growing up, I learned one lesson repeatedly…if it’s something I really want, then I can’t give up. Mom taught it to me with piano. Dad taught it to me with calculus. And you taught it to me on the side of a mountain, with tight, frozen limbs.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, my voice threatening to give out at any moment because nowI’mthe tachycardic one, and my heart is about to beat right out of my chest.
Hanlon’s hands find their way to my naked waist backing me toward the head of my bed.
“I want to try this. With you.”
I’m pretty sure this is the part where I adamantly tell him no, where I push him out of my bedroom and slam the door in his face for even suggesting such a thing, where I get so disgusted that my two sips of coffee come right back up.
But I stay still and silent as he takes the coffee mug from my hands and places it on my nightstand. Bringing his mouth to my ear, his lips hover, but never touch as hewhispers, “Please?”
No part of him is touching any part of me right now.
And it’s fucking torture.
I’m so turned on, my dick is thickening in my sweatpants, and he’s zeroed in on it, watching it come to life with unfiltered lust in his eyes.
“Fuck, Han,” I breathe. “You can’t ever look at me like this when we’re around other people.”
“What about when we’re alone?”
I move to scrub a hand down my face, but Hanlon catches my wrist and doesn’t let me complete the gesture. The pressure from his hand forces my cock to stand at full attention a millisecond later.
“Answer me,” he demands.
He’s not asking if he can touch me. He’s asking if I’m going to cross this line of insanity with him. Sure, thinking about sneaking aroundsoundssuper hot, but the reality of it is a lot different. If Dad and Lana were to find out, this would tear our family apart. Or what if Hanlon and I have a huge argument, which is a high probability? It wouldn’t be a clean breakup. We can avoid each other a lot, but not indefinitely.
I’m convinced he means to kill me when he leans in and runs his nose through my beard, along my jawline, stopping just below my ear as his tongue darts out to lick the skin there.
