He swallows hard, and then his eyes meet mine. “Whatever’s going on needs to stop.” Then he turns and rushes down the stairs. “Hey, Dad. Good to see you.”
As their voices fade, I slump against the doorframe, my heart still pounding. My body is shaking. The adrenaline rushing through me has nowhere to go.
I enter my room in a daze, leaving the lights off as I lock the door. Throwing myself on the bed, I stare at the ceiling and try to ignore the pounding of my heart and the insistent throbbing of my cock.
What the actual fuck?
This reaction isn’t because of Jonah. It can’t be. I hate him. But it’s understandable that my body forgets that. Jonah has so many muscles. And sure, he’s attractive if you’re into boy-next-door-who-turns-into-a-beast-when-challenged.
I’m not into that. And I refuse to give in to my body’s demand that I jerk off to thoughts of my stepbrother. That’s a line I will not cross.
When the ache becomes unbearable, I adjust myself. Pleasure zips through me. A need so intense I can’t ignore it.
Jonah touching me with his rough hands. One gripping the back of my neck. The other squeezing my cock.
A sob escapes me. No. Not Jonah. Not my stepbrother. I have to think of something to make this go away.
My father. His lips twisted in disgust. George. Disappointed. And maybe he’s disgusted as well.
Jonah would point at me and laugh his ass off.
That helps to deflate my boner. But it leaves an unwanted residue like a sticker that won’t quite peel off. No matter how much you pick at it.
I’m tired of just existing. Living in a town that barely tolerates me. Working a job I could do in my sleep.
No chance of finding someone who wants me for me and not just a hookup. And most of the guys from this area are either closeted or in denial.
San Diego Pridefest is my chance to show everyone what I can do. A way to live my life on my terms.
I just have to get there. No matter the cost.
