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Until, finally, gasping for air, I did.
"Fuck, baby," Fallon said, breathless and shaky himself, his face pressed to the side of my head, his heartbeat slamming against my back.
Every inch of me felt weak and trembly.
But even more unsettling than that was the strange tugging sensation in my chest, something tight and borderline uncomfortable, something that begged to be felt and recognized.
"I'll never get enough of that," Fallon said, pressing a kiss to my temple as he slowly slid out of me, moved away from me.
And it was with that separation that I finally understood the feeling.
The very beginning tug of an emotion stronger than I'd ever felt before.
Something that felt a hell of a lot like that love shit people always went on and on about.
It was scary.
And confusing.
But as I turned to look at Fallon who shot me a sweet smile with a bit of something that looked like wonder in his eyes, I knew that there was no use trying to deny it or fight it.
"Where are you going?" Fallon asked, watching as I made my way back in the direction of the bathroom.
"Have you ever had lube dripping down your ass and thighs?" I asked, shooting him a smirk.
"Can't say I have."
"It's not pleasant," I explained.
"I'm not sorry," Fallon shot back, smile big.
"Me either," I agreed, smile matching his.
From there, we dried off and dressed.
"It's a look," I declared to Fallon who was wearing a pair of my least feminine pajama pants. They were more than a little tight. And I wasn't complaining. He'd lucked out in the hoodie department, because I liked to buy them big. "Ready?" I asked, making my way to the stairs.
"Yep," he agreed following me up.
That was supposed to be it.
We walked out of there.
We went to Fallon's place to crash. Maybe we'd wake up in a few hours and eat some frozen food and watch a movie before we passed back out again.
It was all supposed to be over.
That was until we got back into the bar.
And someone else was there.
Someone who most definitely wasn't supposed to be there.
"Who're you?" Fallon asked, taking a step forward like he was planning to move in front of me.
"Rider," I told him, the name like an exhale. "My brother."
Chapter Eighteen
Danny
The last time I'd seen Rider, he'd been getting bracelets slapped on him by the local police department.
From there, he'd been extradited to a different state where his crime had been committed to sit in jail and await trial. My father had taken the trip there to support him, but I'd been stuck on a run in his absence.
He'd been found guilty and sent away.
Second-degree assault.
That was, what, four years ago?
No, five.
Five years.
That was what he was supposed to serve.
How the hell hadn't I known he was getting out?
I would have made the trip back to the mother chapter to see him.
I mean, we weren't the closest of siblings. He was a few years older, and had been somewhat disinterested in me most of my life. But he was one of the few people who hadn't given me shit based solely on my gender.
When he was hard on me, it was always based on what he thought I was capable of.
Come on, Danny, I know you can do better than that.
Shoot better than that.
Fight better than that.
Whatever it was, when he wanted me to do better, he told me he knew I could do it, not that I couldn't because I was a girl.
Unlike me, his mom had stuck around. Not at a full-time capacity, but enough that he'd been given a bit more well-rounded family life. Which might have been what made him better with me than our own father had ever been.
"Why didn't you tell me you were getting out?" I asked, too stunned to move.
He looked good. Pretty much the same as he had when he'd gone in. Maybe he put on a few pounds of muscle. But when you were inside, what else was there to do to pass the time but workout? Well, in Rider's case, to workout and to read.
Even standing there in my bar in jeans and a black tee, he had a book tucked under his arm.
"Seemed my release coincided with a lot of shit going down," Rider said, shrugging. "Figured I would wait for the dust to settle."
"That's why you're here?" I asked, something inside of me tensing, sensing something strange about him. There was a standoffishness I wouldn't have said was natural for him. At least with regard to me. Under normal circumstances, I would have brushed it off as the distance and awkwardness that came from a five-year separation. But nothing had been normal lately.
"Well..." Rider said, sighing out his held breath. "Not exactly."
"No," I agreed, shaking my head. "Of course not."
"Danny..." he started, eyes sad. Eyes so much like my own.
