The Step Bet (Peach State Stepbros, #1)

by Riley Hart

Atlas rolls his eyes. “Come on, T. You’re being ridiculous. After what we’ve done together already, how bad could it possibly be?” He has no idea what he’s inviting, but I’m tempted to take him up on it, if only to see where he’s going with this. “You want to play this stupid game? Fine. You asked for it.” Just spit it out. “You mentioned pegging. Did you ever do that with any of your girlfriends?” He shakes his head. “Good. ’Cause I want that ass to myself.” My voice is a low growl; I don’t know where this is coming from. “I want to be the one to introduce you to your prostate. Very slowly. Not just to let you know how good it can feel to have something rubbing against it—that’s easy—but to introduce you to every crevice, so you’ll always know the difference every centimeter makes.” He’s not cringing or freaking out. Does that mean he wants that? Or do I just wish he wanted that? “And that’s all before I fuck you, Atlas. Watching your face as I open you up, molding your ass to my cock. Studying your expressions to know exactly what movements hit you just right. And then riding your ass, not letting up until you come without even touching yourself, making the pleasure so intense and excruciating for you that by the time I’m finished, I’ll know every possible way you could say my name.”

It’s hard to know which of us initiated it, but suddenly our lips mash together, so fast that my thumbnail jams into my lip. I can hardly think straight as I reposition my hands on either side of his face. We’re all lips, tongues, teeth, a torrent of fury, like all this pent-up shit we’ve been dancing around is gone. It’s like I black out in the frenzy because all of a sudden he’s got his legs wrapped around my waist, and I’ve pinned him to the wall. I must’ve forgotten to breathe because I have to pull away, gasping for air, then kiss along his cheek, unleashing all those fantasies I’ve had about him on his precious face, feeling his facial hair against my cheek. I push my hip against him, the subtle movement soothing my rock-hard dick. “I want you, A,” I confess as I kiss down to his neck. “I want every fucking part of you.” It’s like Atlas broke the dam, flooding my senses, and I can’t hold anything back anymore. “Let me show you,” I whisper into his flesh. “Please let me show you.” I’m begging again. Fuck, I should have some self-restraint. I wonder if he even knows I’m referring to those things I told him I wanted to do to him, until he whispers, “Show me, Troy.”

“Troy,” he whispers into my mouth. “I want you. I need you.” He pulls away so I can see him, and he cups my face in his hand, those green eyes set on me. I’ve known those eyes for years. When I’ve looked at them, I’ve known their pain. Their sadness. But I’ve never known them as well as I do now, in this moment. I’m lost in his gaze, not hiding any of myself from him, and I can tell he’s not hiding any of himself from me. These are our real selves, staring, panting, all desire and passion, just wanting each other. “I love you. I love you, Troy,” he says between heavy breaths. “I love you too, Atlas.”