Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
He clenched his thighs together instinctively.
He felt strange… He was… he was getting slick.
Slick.
Liam scrambled away so fast his vision swam with dark spots. He dropped himself back into the pilot’s seat and set his trembling hands on the steering wheel.
“We should get back,” Liam said, taking the aircar off autopilot. His voice didn’t sound like his own. He didn’t look at Anthony. Couldn’t.
He had no idea how they made it home. He thought he said something to Anthony, but he wasn’t sure.
He didn’t even remember getting to his room.
The next thing Liam knew, he was hugging the toilet in the ensuite bathroom, throwing up what little there was in his stomach.
Still dry heaving, Liam pressed his face against the cold tile and wondered if he was the most disgusting omega in existence or the most defective.
He wished he were passionless now.
Chapter 5
Liam emerged from his room in the evening. Partly because he couldn’t keep hiding in it, and partly because he was determined to prove that what had happened was a one-off. A very unfortunate one-off and nothing more. Just because he’d gotten aroused in his brother’s presence didn’t mean that his brother was the cause. Liam would prove it. He would prove that he wasn’t—that he wasn’t a degenerate.
“Your brother is in the gym, Master Liam,” a maid told him when he asked.
Your brother.
Brother.
Swallowing another surge of nausea, Liam thanked her absentmindedly and headed to the gym. He would see Anthony and feel nothing. Nothing besides what a normal person would feel for a brother.
Liam entered the gym and came to an abrupt halt.
Anthony didn’t notice him, too busy hitting a punching bag. He was wearing just a pair of loose gym pants. And nothing else.
Liam wet his lips, his eyes helplessly tracing the muscular lines of Anthony’s strong back. It was gleaming with perspiration, highlighting each individual muscle, beads of sweat running down his spine. Dark brown hair curled at Anthony’s nape, also damp with sweat. Anthony punched the bag hard, again and again, his biceps flexing and making the veins on his strong forearms stand out. He exuded male aggressiveness and raw, lethal strength.
Liam swallowed thickly, heat pulling to his crotch.
Fuck.
Liam took a step back.
But it was too late.
As if sensing him, Anthony turned his head, panting, his gloved hand resting on the bag, his thick bicep bulging. Blue eyes framed with dark lashes burned a hole in him, full of frustration.
Slick dribbled down Liam’s inner thigh, his cock so hard it hurt.
Anthony’s nostrils flared.
Surely… surely he couldn’t smell his arousal from across the room, right?
Still looking at Liam, Anthony took his gloves off. Dropping them on the floor, he headed toward him.
Liam should have left. He should have run.
He didn’t.
He stood still, like an idiot, as incriminating evidence of his sickness dribbled down his leg. If Anthony hadn’t smelled that across the room, he surely would now.
Anthony stopped in front of him and just looked at him, his face like stone. He should have smelled gross, all sweat, testosterone, and alpha musk, but he smelled fucking divine.
Gods, he really must be sick. The most perverted person in existence. Not only did his own brother arouse him, the smell of his sweat turned him on even more.
“Are you feeling better?” Anthony said, breaking the silence. “Jules said you had a headache.”
Liam blinked, stunned. What? Was Anthony just… going to pretend that he couldn’t smell anything, that he didn’t know what a sick person Liam was? Why would he do that? For what reason? Not that Liam wasn’t relieved—of course he was—but it was strange. Very strange.
“Li?”
Utterly confused, Liam forced a weak smile. “I feel better now,” he lied, fixing his gaze on Anthony’s face and refusing to look at his half-naked body. Not that looking at his face was any easier.
“I…” he said, feeling ridiculously tongue-tied. He, Liam Blake, who had never gotten tongue-tied around alphas, felt painfully awkward and off-balance. The sticky, pulsing situation between his legs didn’t help, either.
He didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t know what to do.
To Liam’s mortification, his eyes started watering. He tried to stop, but he couldn’t hold back the tears of frustration, horror, and confusion. He was attracted to his brother. He could no longer deny it. The evidence was currently running down his leg.
Anthony’s expression became tight, almost pained. “Please don’t,” he said tersely, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.
Liam wasn’t even sure what he meant. Don’t cry? Don’t smell aroused? Both?
Liam could only look at him, at a loss, trying to blink the tears away. It didn’t work. The full horror of the situation finally sank in. He was attracted to his brother. Brother. There was no denying it. He was a degenerate. A sick, disgusting pervert. Attraction to one’s brother was beyond unnatural. Why did he have to be such a freak? This was sickness.