Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could share this with me…or that you had to when you didn’t want to. You can trust me, A. This stays between us.”
A breath finally escapes me. We’re both quiet again, and I have no idea what to say, which doesn’t happen often.
It’s Troy who breaks the silence. “I can’t believe you volunteer,” he says playfully. “Atlas has a heart, Atlas has a heart,” he teases, and I can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter.
15
Troy
When I finish my swing, Glen’s still fishing through the bag for a driver.
“I’m glad you could make it today,” he says.
“Happy to join you.” I fucking hate golf, but spending time with him really matters to Mom. And I’m glad it’s just the two of us since I hate it even more when it’s with a bunch of his snooty coworkers.
“Sorry we didn’t come sooner,” he says. “Got behind at work last month, so I’m glad we made it out here before the holidays.”
“Not a problem.” Hell, I assumed he’d forgotten he’d invited me, but now that I’m here with him, there’s something I have to get off my chest. “You really should consider inviting Atlas to come out sometime.”
I tell myself it’s because my stepbrother deserves to suffer through this too, but I know the real reason I’m pressing: because Atlas is the one he should be inviting, not me. And it seems that no matter how many times I bring this to Glen’s attention, it doesn’t change anything.
Maybe because he’s not really listening to anything I say.
“Eh, he wouldn’t enjoy this.”
Why the fuck do you think I enjoy it?
He begins his swing but stops himself and looks back to me curiously. “Oh, your mom tells me…”
Not for the first time, I’m waiting for him to say, You’re fucking around with my son.
You know, the things you expect to hear from your stepdad, like:
Did he blow you?
Did you like it?
Did you lick the shirt he came on?
Yes, yes, and yes. Get off my dick, Glen!
Of course, he’s not gonna say any of that. And even if he does, that’s not what we were doing. It was one time. One weird, wild…hot time.
“…you aced your Thermo test you were so on edge about,” Glen finishes.
Why did he have to say edge?
It makes me think of how his son tortured me…made me practically beg to come.
After Atlas finished that epic BJ, I didn’t know what the fuck to think…hell, I could barely formulate responses. And then I was just watching him like a creep, dumbfounded as he jerked off.
He invited me to help him out—why hadn’t I?
I could have had that beautiful cock in my mouth. It reminded me of when we were in high school, fighting over the PlayStation 3: “No fair! I want a turn!”
Then why had I told him no?
I know the answer. Even after what he’d done, part of me still thought it was a trap. Like I’d start sucking him off, and he’d go, Hahaha. This was all to show you that you wanted my cock so bad. Got ya!
Or worse, that after we finished, he realized he’d made a horrible mistake, taken a bet way too far.
But God, I wish I could have tortured his cock the way he’d tortured mine. Could have made him beg to let him come.
I’ll have to get him back for that later.
Later? What the fuck? There isn’t going to be a later!
Or is there?
Atlas clearly enjoyed himself, and I enjoyed myself…much more than I should have.
It isn’t just about the BJ, though. Atlas is queer. Maybe bi, but for a guy I’ve never had much in common with, we apparently have more in common than either of us realized.
Although, I’ve considered he was just trying me on for size. Seeing if he would like it. It’s possible, likely even, that it was just a hit-it-and-quit-it thing for him. From everything I’ve heard, that’s his MO.
Fuck, will not going down on Atlas be one of the biggest regrets of my life?
If I never get a chance to taste his cock, at least I got a little lick of the cum on his shirt. I knew it was a weird thing to do, but I told myself tasting him was only fair since he’d tasted me.
“Troy…” God, my name’s never sounded as good as it did slipping out from between those wet lips, watching him spray across his stomach.
And now I’m getting a semi.
While Glen’s still facing away from me, I adjust. I imagine Atlas standing next to me, teasing me, “You getting hard over me with my dad on the eighth green?”
“It’s the sixth, thank you very much.”
“What’d you say?” Glen asks.
Fuck, did I say that out loud? Really need to watch my mouth. This isn’t the time to be blurting out certain things I can’t get out of my head.