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And I would take it because I was a coward, a desperate little boy, when it came to her.
Drake disappeared around a corner, leaving me feeling more empty than I’d ever been. I’d gone from flying high above the world at finally seeing his gorgeous face and strong shoulders to wallowing in my loneliness.
No one waited for me back home in Boston. Hell, Drake wasn’t even aware I lived minutes away from him. We had no interaction—his doing, not mine since I’d given up after he’d made his desires clear years earlier.
And tonight only reiterated what he wanted.
Or rather, what he didn’t.
Me.
Anger boiled up inside me, and I clung to the emotion like a raft in the turbulent ocean. Heart still breaking, I lifted my chin and turned toward my car on shaking legs.
Fuck Drake Hemmings.
I didn’t need him in my life. I could choose to change my unattainable dreams about him, those fantasies of settling down with him and having a dozen babies together. Children who would be loved regardless of their sex or orientation.
There were no kids in my future, and there would be no grandbabies for Mom, since I didn’t want any if they wouldn’t have Drake as their Papa.
Climbing into my car, I kept my thoughts on my mom and Michael and the joy I would feel once I reached Queens. I would be happy for them and give all my energy to celebrating their engagement.
And try not to cry once I buried my face in the pillows on their guest bed.
Chapter 7
Drake
Present Day…
I stroked into a hot, tight ass, imagining the passion-filled green eyes peering up at me were Preston’s rather than my Friday night client’s.
But what else was new?
While I enjoyed the hell out of easy ass and getting paid for fucking it, I always imagined it was Preston Casswell sprawled beneath me, clinging to me, or bent over and begging for my cock.
Fucking Cupid. The batshit crazy asshole had hit the wrong fucker with Preston’s arrow. I’d lost my faith in love when my parents had divorced, so I had no fucking clue what made him even aim my way.
But he’d struck me through the heart. Hard.
All I dreamed about was Preston’s mouth and his bubble butt I’d lusted after for-fucking-ever.
But that could never be since we were stepbrothers. Even worse, our hooking up would inevitably end my dad’s marriage, something I couldn’t allow since he remained madly in love with his bitch of a wife.
Still, my heart wanted the man who owned me regardless of the necessary chasm of time and distance between us.
“Goddamnit,” I muttered. I grabbed hold of Andy’s cock to get him off before I blew my load into the condom to thoughts of sinking balls deep into my stepbrother I hadn’t laid eyes on in years.
Andy whimpered, head tipping back, those gorgeous green orbs of his fluttering closed. Sweat dampened his brow and dark hair as he panted, “Yes, yes, yes…”
“Come for me,” I coaxed, rubbing my thumb over his wet slit while burying deep inside him.
“D-Drake!” Andy sputtered my name, and ribbons of white shot up and over his smooth chest, soaking my hand.
I hissed, slamming in hard, seeing Preston in my mind. His red hair mussed from fucking, his eyes hazed over from climaxing around my dick, his plump lips parted while stuttering my name.
Only in my fucking fantasies.
I clenched my jaw and came, head tipped back and teeth gritted.
