Page 4 of Nothing to Lose

“Yeah, you’re damn right I fuckin’ do. Want to give me what I want? We can even keep the lights off, and you can pretend I’m not here. But we both know me watching you stroke your dick is going to do it for you, so maybe we keep them on. Win-win.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not win-win. Lose-lose. And why do you have to make everything so sexual, perv?” Eli scoots off his bed, letting the blanket fall to the floor as he tucks his dick back into his sweats. I have to bite my bottom lip to stifle the moan. When I look up at him, his eyes are on me, watching as I readjust my hard dick. Yeah, baby boy, you see what you do to me? How you affect me? I let my hand linger there longer than necessary, rubbing the heel of my palm against it. Fuck, the things I would do to this man if he gave me the green light.

The tension in the room increases, but then Eli coughs, severing it. I drop my head back, letting out a long, pent-up breath. “You hungry?”

“Haven’t eaten yet. Needed to decompress from practice.”

“By stroking your dick?”

“Sue me.”

“I’d do more than that if you’d let me,” I jest with a wink.

“Our parents shouldn’t hold me liable if I suffocate you in your sleep.”

“As long as it’s with your ass in my face, I’ll go out happy.” I wait for one of his smartass quips back, and when one doesn’t come, I look up at him, finding his face flushed crimson, his eyes heavily lidded, looking so fucking hot. “You like that visual?”

He recovers quickly, sobering his expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You like the idea of your legs spread over my face while I eat your ass, little brother? My tongue lapping and rimming your tight hole.”

His breathing kicks up a notch. “No.” I let my eyes dart down to his crotch, the outline of his still-hard dick clear as day.

“Liar.”

“Fuck off, Hunter. What’d you get?”

“You mean to tell me you can’t smell this vile shit stew from over there?”

“No. What the hell is it?”

“Take a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Fuck you, I can get it myself.”

I point my finger at him, dropping my voice sterner. “Sit the fuck down. You don’t have to admit it, but I know you fucked up your knee, so if you want to continue to play, you need ice, rest, and elevation.”

Eli opens his mouth to fight me, but I shoot him a glare, holding up his container of the putrid, creamy chowder.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“If you’re thinking it’s Rome’s bottled-up vomit, then yeah.” Eli chuckles, and the sound settles right between my ribs. “Back to the headboard, legs out in front of you,” I demand.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy as hell?”

“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?”

“For fuck’s sake, Hunter, why do you have to remind me every ten minutes?”

“Like I said, I like the way it makes you blush.”

“Whatever. Can I have my food, please?”

I hand Eli the warm container and his plastic utensil, and watch as he dives right in, moaning around the spoon resting against his tongue.

“Fuck, Eli, that sound . . .” I rasp. “I don’t have a food kink, but I think I could based on how you’re eating that.”

“I don’t even care right now. This is incredible.”