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Beckett grasped his hair. “Ah, Christ, we’re dead. Dad is gonna kill us. Well, no, he’ll kill me. You’ll be fine, but I’ll be out of the family, out of a job. We’re supposed to be brothers, not—not—”
His breathing went haywire, his body was shaking, and it was clear that Beckett was losing his shit.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against me. He resisted for thirty seconds, tense and vibrating, before he collapsed against my chest with a shuddering breath. “We’re fucked,” he murmured, his breath brushing over my right nipple.
My cock hadn’t gone down, despite the fucked-up news I’d married my stepbro. Not to mention whatever else had happened. I squirmed, trying to will it away, and Beckett looked up at me, face pale, eyes big and vulnerable. “What are we gonna do?”
I don’t know what possessed me just then. My desire to comfort Beckett? The knowledge that we might have already messed around last night? My hard dick, which despite a hetero appetite for most of my life, didn’t really care that it was my stepbrother in my arms?
Whatever the reason, I dipped down and kissed him.
Beckett’s lips parted with a gasp as I brushed my lips softly over his, more of a request than a demand. He leaned into the kiss with a small noise that sounded almost like a question. I answered by running my tongue along his bottom lip, then taking it one step further, giving in to the urge to taste him.
In an instant, we caught fire. Beckett climbed into my lap, still kissing me, mouth eager and wet. So hot I thought I’d incinerate. When he settled his weight on my aching cock, both of us naked under the sheet, I groaned and kissed him even harder.
Beckett’s hands were all over me: in my hair, scratching along my flanks, squeezing my pecs. I responded by grabbing his bare ass and squeezing. Then parting his cheeks, my cock skimming through the cleft of his ass and prodding his hole.
We both snapped back to reality at the same time.
Beckett jerked back so fast he fell off my lap, then flung himself to the side to grab a pillow and slam it over his lap. I’d already seen his cock, as hard as mine, long and slim and flushed a dark pink.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, eyes wide and dark.
“Well, it is our honeymoon,” I joked weakly, not knowing what else to say.
Beckett’s eyes turned murderous, and he gave up on modesty to whack me with the pillow. Right in the face. Then again, knocking me from the bed. He followed to the edge of the bed, continuing to whack me. “This.”Whack. “Is.”Whack. “Not.”Whack. “A joke!”
I caught the pillow and flung it away. When he continued to come after me, lunging forward, I grabbed his shoulders and wrestled him back onto the bed. Beckett struggled, which only brought every part of our bodies into contact, rubbing and grinding until I was panting with more than just exertion.
“Calm down,” I ordered. “I know it’s not a joke, okay? I know!”
His chest heaved, but he stopped straining against my hold. “W-why did you…”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that question without exposing a part of myself I’d been trying to shut down the past few months. Beckett was my stepbrother and a man. He was everything I wasn’t supposed to want.
But being so close to him, naked, married. That was an adrenaline hit.
It was standing on the edge of a cliff with only a cord between me and death. It was standing in the open doorway of a plane, ready to jump.
It was betting everything on one hand in a game of poker, the gamble of a lifetime.
So I answered truthfully and hoped it didn’t ruin everything.
“We already made the fuckup of all fuckups, so I just figured…why not enjoy the honeymoon? I mean, we probably messed around last night, and I don’t know about you, but I want to at least remember how it feels.”
It seemed inevitable, really, after all the months of wishing away the urge to get closer to him. From the moment I’d witnessed our first set of male friends kiss, I’d wondered: What would it be like to kiss Beck like that?
It’d be wrong, I’d told myself. I liked women. So did he. And we were brothers, not lovers.
And yet…the thoughts hadn’t gone away. The curiosity had shifted to desire. A craving that just wouldn’t quit.
I hadn’t thought it would lead to us getting married.
But here we were.
Beck stared at me, lips parted, shock written across his face. “I didn’t think you were into guys.”
