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I shiver when he squeezes me tight. “I like it, too.”
We let that declaration set up camp around us as we listen to the fireworks outside, signaling the end to one of the most magical weeks of my life.
The lies I’m keeping from him scrape their claws along my subconscious, making it increasingly harder to keep them silent. Because that’s the thing about secrets, the more energy spent concealing them, the more determined they become to expose themselves.
“I won’t be here much longer, Marcus.”
“Tomorrow,” he says by way of avoidance. “We’ll deal with whatever comes next then.”
Will we, though? It’s becoming our mantra at this point. One more tomorrow. One more night. As if we can truly put off the inevitable forever.
“Okay,” I say, meeting him halfway for a soft, sensitive kiss. “Tomorrow.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Marcus
Atingling sensation, followed by a vise grip around my cock, wakes me from the sweetest fantasy. I check the time on my phone with squinted eyes before stuffing it back under the pillow. It’s four o’clock in the morning, and here I am, half-awake and pumping away with a fresh vision of Heather on her knees in front of me.
I try to resist the urge to continue, but it only makes my balls ache twice as much.
I wish it were her touching me, and I wish like hell she hadn’t made that rule about not fucking in my bed. Because right now, I would be worshipping her.
I groan, knowing this torture was brought on by the longest, dick-teasing, make-out session in history after we made it home from Vera’s. As tempted as I was to take what Heather was offering, she was emotionally spent, and instead of a quickie on the couch, I ordered her to relax in a nice hot shower.
And to think of me while she was at it.
Fucking hell. For all my supposed addictions, I’m a fiend for her. I crave the smallest tastes of Heather I can get. Especially the soft, sensual kisses paired with her constant challenging.
“Fuck it.”Might as well finish.
Slicking my palm with spit, I wrap it around the tip of my throbbing dick. Still submerged in what I’d been about to do to dream Heather, I squeeze, pretending it’s her hand choking my shaft instead of mine.
“Just like that,” I whisper into the cool darkness of my room.
From my side, something weighs the edge of the bed down, and then I hear a pathetic chuffing sound.
Jango rubs his snout on top of the covers, wagging his tail happily.
“Jerking off in front of a dog.” I glare at him in the dark. “That’s a new low, even for me.”
My phone startles me when it buzzes beneath my pillow.
“Shit,” I say when I get a glimpse of who’s calling. “Couldn’t have picked a worse time.”
Yanking my boxer briefs up with one hand, I stare at my phone, hesitating to answer. I’m not ready to have this conversation, but I guess it’s about time.
With my stomach in knots, I slide the green bar to accept the video call.
“Hello, brother,” an identical reflection of me says, instantly dowsing my veins with anguish, grief, and anger.
“Morton,” I greet my twin.
It’s been well over a month since the wreck that could have easily taken his life and thankfully, no one else’s. I knew he would check-in once he was sober enough to start a new bender, but I didn’t expect him to look so lifeless.
“Can’t bother showing me that ugly mug?” he goads, searching the dark screen for my face.
“I’m sure you get enough of it plastered all over the internet.” I click the lamp on the nightstand. “Especially after your most recent escapade.”
