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)
“Stop thinking so hard. If you think hard, then I’ll feel like I need to think hard.”
I smile, turning over to face him. “Pfft. Look at you over here acting like you’re gonna be thinking about anything other than my hole.”
“And your cock,” he replies, which I hadn’t expected.
“Oh yeah? That’s good because you know I’m gonna want to dick you down too.”
“Obviously. And you might learn something,” he tosses back.
“That’s not what you were saying last night. I’ve never had it so good, best hole ever, I don’t think I’ll ever fuck anyone else without comparing him to you! I’m not worthy of your ass,” I tease, earning an eye roll from Troy.
“Whatever you have to keep telling yourself, A.”
Deciding to play with him a little, I crawl over his naked body, letting our skin brush, thrusting against him before getting out of bed.
“Where are you going?” Troy calls after me as I walk away.
“Gotta take a piss.”
“And you couldn’t get out of the bed on your side?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I close the door behind me before taking a few breaths. That little stunt got my dick going just as much as it did his.
I take a quick leak, then wash my hands. When I head back down the hallway, Troy is sitting on the edge of my bed with his underwear in his hands. His head is bent forward, looking toward the ground, much more serious than he’d been just a few minutes before.
Disappointment twists inside me, a windstorm trying to whip up the fear I pretend isn’t there. The one that tells me I’m not good enough, that he’s going to regret this, regret me, the way Glen did Mom, and hell, in a lot of ways, me.
“You can leave if you don’t want to be here.”
Troy’s head snaps up, brown hair mussed from sleep. “What are you talking about? Who said I want to leave?”
I shrug like it doesn’t matter to me. “I’m just letting you know it’s not a big deal if you do.”
As I’m pulling a pair of boxer briefs from my drawer, Troy comes up behind me, surprising me by wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Your I-don’t-give-a-fuck facade doesn’t work with me. Not anymore. I see you, A.”
I tense but don’t move away from him. I know, and I like it. It should be scarier than it is. “Nothing to see.”
“A whole lot to see, more than what’s in most people.”
Not more than what’s in him. That’s the thing with us: I see Troy too. Even before all this started, I saw him. He might think he’s covering it well, but I know how much the way his mom fawns over my dad hurts him, know that he feels like he doesn’t matter when she makes food she knows he hates or puts Brandon’s things away. He misses his brother, though he rarely talks about him, and he hurts because his dad walked away. Maybe it even makes Troy feel a little unwanted too.
“Can I ask you something?” he says, still holding on to me.
“I can tell by the sound of your voice that I’m going to wish you didn’t.”
“Why don’t you want anyone to know you volunteer?” he asks, and yep, called it.
I sigh, glad he’s behind me, that his chest is against my back and I can’t see his face. That makes it easier to talk, easier to say this to him. I would never answer the question with anyone else.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words. I guess…I don’t like people to see me,” I say, remembering that he’d just said he did and I’m okay with it. But everyone else, if they see the real me and I’m not enough for them, the way I’m not enough for Glen, it would hurt more. “I just like to protect it.”
“You like to protect your heart.” Troy’s breath is warm against my neck, and I tremble.
Yes. I do. Those aren’t words I can force out, so I say, “Let’s eat,” rather than spilling all the shit that’s inside me: that I prefer people to think I’m an asshole to keep them at arm’s length; that showing them this piece of me is like cutting myself open so they see what’s really inside. “You can cook me breakfast. I think I deserve it after the way you railed my ass last night.”
Troy chuckles. “I didn’t hear you complaining, unless please, more, and harder don’t mean what I thought they did.”
“Please hurry up because you’re boring me. Harder because I couldn’t feel you.”
“Yeah. When you were calling out my name and coming, I’m sure that’s ’cause you couldn’t feel me,” he says playfully. We both tug on underwear, and I toss a pair of sweats to him, which Troy puts on. “I will cook you breakfast, though. I’m a gentleman. But I have to work half a shift today, so I can’t stay long.”