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)
He knocks again, and I school my features, get up, and tug the door open.
“What do you want?” I pretend I don’t know.
Troy’s gaze slides down my bare chest, to my groin, and back up again, making my skin heat up. This is so fucked.
“Excuse me,” Troy says rather than answering, and walks into my apartment, but the cocky smirk on his face is proof that I’m going to be sucking his dick tonight. “I got my grade.”
I close the door. “I figured you did.”
“I decided I want to stand, with you kneeling in front of me, but I’m open when it comes to what room we do this in.”
I cross my arms. Arrogant little shit. That’s usually my MO. “Let’s see it, then.”
He tugs his phone out and pulls up proof of his grade. Ninety-one percent. Of course my perfect little stepbro did exactly what he set out to do.
“You’re welcome.”
“What did you do?” He pushes a hand through his brown hair, and…shit, is he nervous? He’s not the one who should be freaking out in this situation.
“Clearly, you wanted my mouth on your dick so badly, you spent the last month doing everything in your power to make it happen.” I step closer, don’t stop until I can smell the nerves on his skin, my mouth close to his ear. “How long have you wanted me, Troy?”
“Since I started noticing those luscious lips of yours.”
My stomach flip-flops. I didn’t expect a comment like that, but I recover quickly. “If you think my lips are nice, you should see what I can do with my tongue. Bet it leaves you screaming my name.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“I think you’re about to…well, my mouth at least.”
Inside, I’m freaking out a bit. Again, not because I have an issue with what might be my budding bisexuality, but because it’s with Troy, and there’s no way I’ll allow myself not to be the fucking best at this. I don’t have it in me, just like Troy didn’t have it in him not to get an A on this test.
I get on my knees in front of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Didn’t you say you want me on my knees?” I quirk a brow.
“Oh, ’cause you’re actually about to do this? Right.”
“Um…I was planning on it. I lost. You won. Plus, I need to show little Ash up.”
“Ash didn’t…we’re not…”
I unbutton his jeans, willing my hands not to shake. Troy takes a step back, his thighs hitting the arm of the couch, which stops him.
“You’re determined to try and look like you’re really going to do this, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I’m going to. Unless you tell me no. Otherwise, your dick will be in my mouth in three…two…”
“Wait.”
I stop. His forehead wrinkles, and he bites his lip like he’s struggling to process what the hell is happening.
“You don’t have to do this.”
I frown. That’s not him saying he doesn’t want me to. What is he playing at? “So you can spend the rest of my life reminding me how I’m the first one who didn’t follow through with one of our bets? Nah, I’m good.”
“I wouldn’t do that. You’re straight, and I’m your stepbrother. We shouldn’t do this.”
No, we shouldn’t, and I am likely not straight. But we made a bet, and my dick is beginning to plump behind my sweats. The fantasy flashes through my head and…
“We’re doing this. I’m not chickening out. Should I continue counting now? If you don’t say you don’t want this, I’m gonna make you come so hard, you won’t have an orgasm for the rest of your life that you won’t compare to this one.”
I see Troy’s throat work as he swallows the lump there. “Prove it.”
Heat fills my belly and radiates down to my groin. “Oh, lil stepbro, I plan to.”
13
Troy
This is not happening.
I’m trying to keep my cool, but I’m freaking out.
Atlas is on his knees, and my fly is open, my cock so stiff in my pant leg that if he doesn’t whip it out soon, I’m gonna have to adjust.
On the way over to his place, I was on top of the world. Not only did I ace that fucking test, I won against Atlas, something that feels more extraordinary than any stupid grade. All our other bets were the playoffs, and this was our Super Bowl. He was finally going to chicken out, and once he did, no matter what bets we had from that point on, he’d always know I was the true victor between us.
I win, you lose, Atlas McCallister.
But when he pulls back the waistband of my briefs and pushes them down, my cock springs out, and I realize we’ve really gone too far this time.
“So you were just hard ’cause we were wrestling around?” he asks, his suspicious green gaze turning up to me, and for someone who just lost a bet, his mouth is twisted into a real cocky smirk.