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“I’m gonna use your bathroom. Be back in a minute.” He disappeared down the hall into the half-bathroom for guests, and a minute later, I heard the faucet running and the toilet flush. He reappeared, naked and smiling. Carson joined me at the sliding door where I was still palming the glass, spent and sated. He stood at my back, his hands on my hips as he pressed little kisses over my back and shoulders.
“Your pale skin looks beautiful in the moonlight.” More kisses. “It felt incredible to be inside you.” A brush of his palm over my ass. “Keep the money, Ryan. All I wanted was you.” His arms came around my waist and he squeezed, almost like a hug as he pressed into my back. “I’m gonna go now. Thank you for letting me rescue you tonight.”
When I turned around, he was gone. The soft click of the door shutting on my magical night felt slightly depressing and very final. My evening of rum and rendezvous had come to an end. Albeit, a very satisfying end.
4
CARSON
As I drove home,I contemplated two things. One, there were no hills in Rolling Hills. Stupid name. They should have called it Ocean View or Riverside or something water related. Maybe the name Rolling Hills was supposed to tout their little on-site golf course? Whatever. I’d never understand people with money. The second thing? Ryan Middleton, prim and proper insurance salesman, had a hot little body and was the best fuck I’d had in a long time.
I planned to go home and shower as I jerked off to the memory of his hands spread on that glass door, legs wide, crying out as he took my cock. I palmed my dick as it stirred from the memory. It was a shame he was a one-and-done because I could go another few rounds with him before I lost interest.
When I arrived home, the house was quiet. My brother and cousin were already asleep. After I showered, I crawled into bed, pulling the blue and gray plaid comforter up to my chin, and thought once more of my luck tonight before I closed my eyes and drifted away, sated and smiling.
The following morning, I padded barefoot down the old squeaky hardwood staircase to the white-tiled kitchen, where I found my roommates already getting an early start to their day. My brother Carlisle was reading a magazine article while he sipped his coffee and Gordy was cooking breakfast, as usual. The guy loved to cook. He was dark, brooding, always had a chip on his shoulder, but a genius with food.
Carly and I might be identical twins, but we couldn’t be more different. Where he was organized, I was a mess. He always dressed impeccably, neat and tidy, and I usually looked disheveled and freshly fucked. Carly was creative and polite and kind. People often described me as a troublesome ass because, compared to him, I was, but underneath the snark and sass, I was as generous and nice as the next guy.
“Morning, losers. What’s on the agenda today? We need groceries.”
Gordy glared as he slid me a plate with an omelet and buttered toast. “Then you should go get us some.”
I set the plate down next to Carly and grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge, pouring it into a glass. If my brother wasn’t so fastidious, I would have drank it straight from the carton.
Gordy continued with a smirk. “Uncle Graham texted. He’s on his way over to check our water heater. We had no hot water this morning. You should have heard your brother scream when he stepped in the shower.” Gordy laughed at the memory.
Carly glared. “It was fricking cold as ice. Not exactly how I wanted to wake up.”
People wondered why, at twenty-eight, I still wanted to live with my family. It was moments like these—besides sharing the financial burden of a house—that I appreciated most. Asinine antics, camaraderie, having my family near, splitting chores, and of course, my brother. After having shared everything our entire lives, including a bedroom, clothes, friends, etc., I couldn’t imagine going a day where I didn’t see him or share my life with him. Carly was literally my other half, and as different as we were, we got along like a house on fire.
Someone knocked briefly on the front door before I heard it open. My uncle usually let himself in as if he lived here. A moment later, Graham popped his head in the kitchen. “Morning, boys. Gordy, finish up and give me a hand with the water heater. I’ll be down in the basement.” He hefted his tool bag over his brawny shoulder and disappeared. At fifty-three, my uncle was in excellent shape. With salt and pepper hair and a thick matching beard, he looked like a hot daddy with his big muscly body. Graham still worked out, and working at Limericks Sports Bar and Grille, where he hefted cases of alcohol and kegs of beer, kept him fit. He looked intimidating as fuck with his size and tattoos and the motorcycle he rode, but Graham was a big ole teddy bear at heart.
The real prickly cactus was Gordy. Never a very touchy-feely guy, he was always grumbling under his breath, shooting daggers with his eyes. Gordy sported a constant grimace, rarely smiled or laughed, and had the personality of a wet towel. It was no wonder he never dated. Who in the hell would want him? Gordy had never actually come out of the closet and officially declared himself gay. I had a feeling he was probably bisexual. But I’d glimpsed enough of his porn to know he was definitely interested in the same sex. Whereas my brother was a quiet bi. Carly said he was equal opportunity when it came to dating, but he’d only ever dated women so far. Neither of them knew what they were missing. For me, it was all men all the way.
My uncle was a lot like Gordy. I’d never seen him date anyone, so who knew? But my cousin Shannon was definitely gay, like me. My mom said her parents must have drank the wrong water that mutated the male chromosome in our genetic makeup and that if a straight male was ever born into our family, she would celebrate and make it an official Carrick family holiday.
Carly dumped his plate and mug in the sink and clapped my shoulder. “Finish up and come with me to the grocery store. We can be back by the time they finish up down there and eat lunch before we have to get to work.”
Sighing, I shuffled to the sink and dropped my plate and cup. “I’ll run upstairs and get dressed.” I absolutely hated grocery shopping. It was one of the many necessary evils of being an adult.
* * *
It was nearlyone o’clock in the morning by the time we were finished with our shift and driving home. Carlisle was on his phone, checking missed calls and messages from earlier in the night. He sighed deeply, sounding defeated and exhausted as he read a series of texts.
“Who is that from?
“What?” he asked, glancing up from his screen.
“Whose message has you sounding so chipper?”
“Just Susannah giving me shit again for missing couples night with her girlfriends. It’s my fault that I had to work and she had to go alone.”
I frowned, completely baffled. “Why did she even want you there? You’re a guy, she’s with her friends.”
“Who the heck knows? It’s always something I’m doing wrong. Like I can help the fact that I work nights and weekends.”
When he sighed again, pocketing his phone and staring out the passenger window as we drove, I decided he needed a detour before heading home. Carlisle noticed when I missed our turn.
