Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
All that talk we both intended to distract the other with has done so much more, and if he thinks we’re going to a gaming machine after this, he’s lost his damn mind.
Brenner smirks. “We should probably head back to our place now,” he says, echoing my thoughts.
For guys who can usually talk to each other about nothing nonstop, we’re sure awfully quiet on the trip back to our place.
Feels like it would have been better if I could have just dropped my pants right after and let Brenner have me on the air-hockey table.
But life’s never that fucking convenient, is it?
Brenner says, “I just want you to know, since you lost, I’ll be extra gentle.”
I laugh because I know that’s how he’d be anyway. “Oh, that’s thoughtful of you.”
“Obviously only until you tell me not to be gentle anymore.” He sneaks a glance at me, and I roll my eyes, though the anticipation of what we’re about to do is setting off sensations in my chest, swirls of nerves broadcasting to the rest of my body the news of what’s about to go down. It intensifies the closer we get to the apartment.
It’s not a long trip, but sure feels like it. And we haven’t even gotten in the door before he jumps me, shoving me against the wall, his lips locking against mine.
Taking what’s his.
All his tonight.
Despite how excited I am, there are some nerves too. But I know Brenner has the experience, that he’ll do what he needs to make sure it’s comfortable for me.
We’re a fumbling mess as we make our way to my bedroom. What would usually take a minute takes about five since neither of us can keep our greedy hands off each other.
When we get into my room, I pry him off me, pushing him back so he sits on my bed.
“Feisty tonight, aren’t you?” He rests his palms on the mattress behind him. “But just so you know, if you don’t feel up to it, we don’t have to do anything.”
“A bet’s a bet.”
His eyes narrow in that sexy way they do sometimes, and he wears a mischievous smirk, clearly reveling in his well-deserved victory.
I step back from him, and he glances me over, like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m up to, which I love because it’s amazing, given how well we know each other, that I can still surprise him.
I stand in place, waiting, until he asks, “What are you doing?”
“I’m your prize. So this means you get to tell me what you want me to do.”
His eyes flare with excitement, and my cheeks warm.
“You should have told me this is how it was going to go down before air hockey. I would have kicked your ass a lot faster.”
“Please. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you break a sweat for anything other than my hole.”
His smirk expands into a grin. “Well, I’d never lie and say that wasn’t the case.”
He leans back, studying me like he’s thinking real hard about how to take advantage of this moment.
“Okay,” he says. “Strip for me.”
This is how I know Brenner is the one to share this with.
He’s fun, playful.
He pulls me out of my comfort zone, but in the best way, like when we messed around with Dax.
I grab the hem of my shirt, but he raises his hand. “Hold up.” He hurries to the nightstand, fetching the lube and returning to the edge of the bed. “Got that out of the way so I can just fuck you once I’ve got you ready. Proceed.”
I can’t help chuckling at how serious he’s acting about me doing this stupid thing, but I pull my shirt off, and as soon as it’s over my head, he says, “Freeze. Right there.”
I obey, staying in the strange position as he pushes to his feet and approaches me.
His hands gravitate to my hips before probing around, his gaze taking in my body. “Mmmm,” he says. He kneels, and as his hands knead into my flesh, he kisses my abdomen, trailing his way down.
I keep in place, like a statue, and he licks under my navel, stirring a wild sensation within me that pulses back to my ass. Then he pushes back to his feet and takes my shirt the rest of the way off, discarding it behind him.
“Now lose the rest of it.”
I start to kick off my shoes, and Brenner says, “No. Make it sexy.”
“Sexy?”
“You know what I mean. Make. It. Sexy.”
It’s not a request. It’s an order.
And given that he won the game, I’m committed to doing whatever the fuck he wants. Not really just because he won, but because I know it’s more fun when I give in to Brenner.
I finish removing my shoes, slowing down my movements.
Brenner’s eyes are fixed on me, drinking me in as I unfasten my belt, slipping it off. I unbutton my pants and pull them down, exposing my thighs for him, then my shins before stepping out of them, so that now I’m just in boxers and socks.