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She wasn’t wrong about it being a blazing hot day. I lifted the glass, gulping water to replace all the liquid I’d lost through sweat. When I lowered the glass, I caught Beckett watching a little too closely. I licked a bead of water from my lips and a blush deepened on his cheeks.
Yeah, shit was back to normal.
As normal as it could ever be after what we’d done.
We’d both have to get used to the new normal, I supposed. Because as much as I enjoyed rocking the boat, that wasn’t how Beck was built. And with Dad’s ultimatum on the table, the last thing either of us should do was revisit the memories that surfaced every time I was alone—the tastes, the sounds, the feel of Beck’s lithe muscles under my fingertips.
It was enough to harden my cock, to make me shift uncomfortably, right there in public. When I was alone, I had no chance. My hand was on my dick every night while I thought about my stepbrother on the other side of our small trailer and wondered, was he doing the same thing? Did he still want me the way I wanted him?
The thought that he might was both erotic and torturous. I wanted to be in there with him, but I knew I couldn’t be.
So yeah, we were finding our new normal. But I was beginning to think that normal was overrated.
In fact, normal fucking sucked.
* * *
BECKETT
It wasafter midnight before Wes got home Friday night, slamming the door behind him. He’d gone out with some friends, but I’d stayed in because while things were getting back to normal, we weren’t all the way there yet.
Working with separate crews had given me some much-needed time apart from Wes, but we still lived in each other’s pockets. Going out and getting drunk with him? Very bad idea.
Still, ever since he’d gone out, I’d done nothing but torture myself with the possibilities about how his night might end. Like with a redhead who was far more curvy than me who’d cry out, “Oh, Wes, yes!” so loudly that I couldn’t avoid hearing her. Living in a small trailer with your stepbro had its downsides, and noisy sex that carried through thin walls was one of them.
Even when I’d realized I wanted Wes these past couple of years, I’d been able to cope with the reality that he wasn’t into men, and so, would never be into me. I’d popped on headphones and pretended I didn’t care.
But now? I didn’t know if I could stand it if it happened again.
I called my cousin, Fisher, to kill some time and shot the shit for a while. He was having man trouble, and it was a nice diversion to focus on someone else’s problems. I watched a movie, but I couldn’t concentrate. Eventually, there was no distraction from the thoughts circling my brain, so I turned out the lights, stripped down, and tried to sleep.
It didn’t come. Instead, my hand found its way down to my cock, and I began stroking myself as I thought about things I really should not be thinking about.
When I heard Wes come in, my heart lurched with a thrill of fear. Was he alone? If he was, would he come look in on me? If he wasn’t, would I have to listen to him fuck someone else?
The what-if scenarios were killing me. I could have gone out with him, of course, but watching him pick someone up at the bar would have been even worse than imagining the possibility. At least here in my bed, with my hand slowly working my cock, I could play out the situation in all the ways I didn’t dare in real life.
Me, emerging from my room to demand Wes throw his hookup aside for me, and him eagerly complying, of course. The hookup in question, a faceless woman, would vanish and Wes would beg me to forgive him, offer to do anything, then drop to his knees and swallow my cock.
I shuddered a little under my thin sheet, ears straining for any indication that Wes hadn’t returned alone. But all I heard was him cursing as he tripped over something, then snickering like an idiot and shushing himself, which was so ridiculous I smiled.
Wes was alone, I was pretty sure. A surge of relief made me light-headed, and I spread my legs, stroking my cock a little faster, heart hammering.
A sound outside my door made me freeze.
“Beck, you awake?”
My cock throbbed in my hand, practically begging me to invite him inside to see just how awake I really was. I kept my silence, but I couldn’t resist squeezing my dick to relieve the pressure. My door inched open and Wes peered inside.
It was dark. There was no way he could know I held my dick in my hand with the wish for him to climb into this bed trying to break free of my lips.
He just stood there, looking down at me, and it was wrong, so wrong, but I held his gaze as my hand moved on my cock. The sheet rustled slightly, and Wes’s head turned, and I was sure he could see my hand moving, knew exactly what I was doing.
“Fuck,” he whispered into the darkness.
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t, because if I did, it would all be over. I stopped moving, and he groaned quietly.
“I don’t see anything,” he muttered. “I’m not here. You’re alone, just you and your fantasies. Stroke it, Beck.”
