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)
During the panty bet, throughout the day, I realized that every time I sat or bent over, I had to stress about someone seeing the underwear. So when I won against him the following year, I enjoyed placing my name right above his shorts so that he would have to be as self-conscious as I was for the day. Petty as our little bets may have been, there was something life-giving about them…intoxicating, even.
“I’ve already done that,” I say. “And it’s gotta be bigger if I’m having to do some mystery challenge.”
“So you want something more substantial? Come on. Name your price. Have you been thinking about me in panties since I made you do it?”
“I’m more original than that.”
Atlas grins. “Then what have you got? There must be something you want me to do. Something that would put me in my place if you aced your next test.”
“Whatever I say, it doesn’t even matter because I only have a few weeks until the next test. You know damn well you’re going to win and then parade my F and whatever creepy-ass secret thing you want me to do.”
Atlas pushes to his feet and approaches me. “Lil stepbro, are you conceding before we even made the bet?”
“You don’t get to make up an impossible bet for me to win and then act like you won when I refuse to accept it.”
“Think of something you want from me. I can be your personal Uber for a month.”
“Not good enough.”
“Then what?” He studies my expression. “Something more personal. Something that’ll really show me, right? You want me to eat a rare steak?”
I heave. “You’re gross, Atlas. I would vomit just watching you eat that, and you know it.”
“You’d prefer something more pervy than gross, wouldn’t you?”
What a fucking prick! “Suck my dick, asshole,” I say through my teeth.
“Okay.” He shrugs, and it takes me a moment to process his response to my insult. “That what you want it to be?” he presses. His expression is so unfazed that there’s no way he’s being serious, but heat surges through me so fast, I clench my fists.
“Shut up, Atlas. That’s definitely homophobic.” There are times where I’m a little quick to throw that at him, but this isn’t one of them. What the fuck is his problem?
His eyes widen. “How is that homophobic?” He looks totally lost.
“You’re making a joke about the fact that, because I’m gay, that’s what I’d want you to do to me. Like I’m some kind of perv.”
“What about that sounded like a joke? I’m trying to help you brainstorm. Surely you realize there’s nothing intrinsically homophobic about the idea of me sucking your dick.”
“You’re not queer, Atlas!”
“I can suck a dick and not be queer.”
He’s being so fucking rational when I’ve got a tank full of emotion. Damn, this is frustrating. “Whatever you meant, you know damn well you have no intention of actually doing that.”
“Well, not if you don’t ace your Thermo test. And just to be clear, you have to get an A or you lose. B plus isn’t gonna cut it, lil stepbro.” His lips tug into his dimples as he taps his beer against my shoulder. Now he’s just trying to piss me off. He’s flaunting the fact that he knows how far I am from even passing my next test, let alone acing it. And this whole BJ shit is the last straw.
“Will you just be serious for a minute? Listen to yourself. You’re telling me, if I get an A on my test, you’ll do that.”
“I’m curious why you’re so sure I wouldn’t.”
“Because we’ve known each other since we were fourteen. You’re straight, Atlas. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you that you would even suggest that.”
“Technically, you suggested it.”
“I was just… I…”
Fuck, he’s right.
Again.
He’s got that fucking smirk on his face. He’s living for this.
Why am I letting him get to me? If he wants to play this game, I can play it just as hard—not that my straight stepbro is going to suck my dick; that’s never going to happen, and nothing Atlas could ever say would convince me otherwise, but…
“So if I get an A, you’ll suck my dick?” The words sound ridiculous as they escape my lips, so why isn’t he flinching? “That’s how confident you are that I can’t get an A?”
“Totally.”
Does he really think it’s impossible for me to figure out Thermo? Fuck if that doesn’t just make me want to take him up on it that much more. But I hate that he’s probably right.
Another thought crosses my mind: if I do ace my next test and he doesn’t follow through with this bullshit bet…oh, that will be glorious. Neither of us has ever backed down after we lost a bet. We’ve followed through regardless of the consequences, determined to show we weren’t afraid of a challenge, if only so the other would have to follow through when they lost a bet.