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’ll read it as a joke, I assure myself, but since we’ve messed around, his mouth sure as fuck isn’t the only orifice I think about…obsess about, and chatting with him more has only encouraged wicked fantasies about what I’d do to my stepbrother—lust- and cum-filled fantasies I’ve jerked off to more than a few times. I want to mark him, claim him. I want his body in ways he’d probably be disgusted by. Or would he?
Sometimes it’s like I can read his mind, and sometimes he’s a code I can’t crack. When he didn’t want me to hang with his friends after McDonald’s, I was confused…and hurt. Was I wrong about what was going on between us? No. I couldn’t be. He’s acting the same as always, which makes me believe something else was going on that night when we reached his place. Or maybe he just doesn’t want his friends to know he’s attracted to a guy…or his stepbro. Whatever it is, as long as we’re still cool, I’m comfortable with that. Whatever’s going on between us isn’t something I’m trying to figure out or define. It’s messy and chaotic, just like we are, and frustrating as it might be, I like the idea of letting this runaway train take us wherever it will.
When the evening of the bachelor auction arrives, I’m a hot mess, rushing through a hotel hallway with my suit draped over my arm.
“Dude, there you are!” I hear before recognizing Dixon from the image in his email profile. “I thought you stood us up.” He hooks his arm around mine and escorts me down the hall.
“Sorry. There was sort of a catastrophe at work, and I didn’t have time to get into my suit. I figured there’d be somewhere I could throw it on.”
“Don’t worry. Atlas told me. And we’ve still got twenty minutes. Plenty of time. Just come with me.”
“Twenty? The auction doesn’t start until eight thirty, right?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got to take photos for social media.”
I grunt. That wasn’t in the email, but I guess that’s why they needed us here at six p.m.
Dixon leads me to a room in the hotel that’s being used as a green room. There’s a mirror, counter, and bulb lights along one wall, a couple of wardrobes opposite that. I assume I’m the only one who’s late since I’m the only one in here.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Dixon says as I hook my hangers on a rack in one of the wardrobes along the wall. “Thanks again for signing up, Troy. Really helps having you here. We got a ton of RSVPs on the Facebook invite after we mentioned you were coming.”
“I’m glad I can help,” I say before he heads out, leaving me to scramble into my clothes.
As I’m stripping down to my briefs, there’s a knock at the door, and it swings open. I should probably cover up, but I don’t have anything to hide, and anyone bold enough to barge in should be expecting an eyeful. I glance to see who it is and see Atlas standing inside the door. As it closes behind him, his green gaze is fixed on me, something predatory about the way he watches me from a distance, remaining silent.
“Sorry,” I say, snatching my pants out of the wardrobe and pulling them off the hanger.
“You wanna tell me what the ‘work shit’ was?” he asks.
I texted him so he could let everyone know I was running behind, but I didn’t get into it.
“We had a guy who put diesel fuel in his tank come in earlier. New employee was working on the car, and we wound up with a leak. Whole garage is still a mess, but Al and Walker are handling the rest.”
When I slide into my pants, I suddenly realize that Atlas is at my side, looking me over.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re all stressed and panicky, but you still look like you stumbled out of a Calvin Klein ad.”
I chuckle, my cheeks warming. I don’t know why, since I’m usually good with compliments. Maybe I’m just getting used to my stepbro being so generous with them.
“And here I thought you were gonna get onto me for being late.”
As I fasten my fly, he shrugs. “I appreciate your doing it. You didn’t have to, and shit happens.”
“I was happy to do this. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t be.”
“All I know is that if Ash wins you tonight, he’s gonna need to join the witness protection program.”
I laugh, but he looks deadly serious. Has to be a joke, though. He can’t really have an issue with Ash crushing on me. Can he? It’s a thought I entertain briefly before remembering: “Oh, I took a shower, but do I smell like the garage?”
He leans close, near my cheek, and takes a whiff. His lips twist into a mischievous smirk. “Nah, just like Troy.”