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Two days later, and I still couldn’t keep my hands off my stepbrother. He was addicting. I found myself sleeping in his room every night, sucking him off, and waking in his arms every morning. I couldn’t get enough. I didn’t want this feeling to end, and I hoped he felt the same way.
“Stop moving!” Holt exclaimed as the hammock threatened to spill us both on the ground.
I snorted. “Me? You’re the one who keeps moving,” I reminded him.
“Because you keep making me!” He shoved at my arm which was wrapped around him.
I only tightened my grip, my legs twisted with Holt’s. “If you keep doing that, H, we’re going to end up face first in the grass,” I warned, before I tickled his ribs again.
“Watson!” He giggled, his knee coming too close to my junk.
I loved the sound of Holt’s laugh, as did my dick. “You fucking love it.”
I wanted to bottle this moment up for the rest of my life. We had been out here for hours, just wrapped in one another without a care in the world. Making out, snuggling, it was pure heaven. My phone was full of pictures of Holt. The two of us together. It was ridiculous the number of times I made him stop so I could take a selfie together, but I wanted to imprint everything and not forget it. Nothing made me as happy as his smile. How did I never notice the way he looked at me before? It was more than obvious in every picture I took.
“You—Stop!” Holt jerked away, the hammock twisted beneath us, and we both ended up in the grass. The upside of the situation was Holt’s small, hard body was trapped beneath mine.
I smirked. “Well, what’s this?” I murmured as I ran my hand through his silky hair. “Think you’re trapped now, H.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“No, not really.”
I was obsessed with this feeling. The way Holt looked at me, the way he made me feel like I was the most important person in his life, and when he touched me, I wanted to claim him as mine. No one had ever made me feel like this before, and it probably should scare me, but it didn’t. I wanted him. I wanted him now, tomorrow, and the day after that. Forever, if he would have me.
“Watson.” Holt’s voice dripped with desire. “We should—”
“We should tell everyone about us. We can talk to Jenna about us and see what she says,” I blurted. Jenna was my PR person.
A look of absolute terror came over his face. “What? Why?”
I dropped a wet kiss against Holt’s nose. “I need everyone to know you’re mine.” I wanted everyone to see us together. Hold his hand at races, kiss him, and not have to hide what we were. This was something I had never actually felt before, but I knew it was real the moment I put my lips on Holt. Fuck what everyone else might think about us being together.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he whispered. “Watson, that’s... that’s a big commitment. I don’t... we don’t need to rush into that.” I noticed the way his hands shook when he reached up to touch my face.
I nodded. “You’re nervous. It’s okay to be.” I leaned my head against his. “You’ve waited a long time. If you’re not ready for that, I completely understand.” I kissed him lightly.
“Watson, we should tell Mom and Dad first. Tonight, maybe. They need to know before everyone else.”
“Uh, no. That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
Holt struggled to get out from beneath me, his small frame wiggling like a worm. “Move, please.” He sounded mad. “Watson, I’m fucking serious.”
Clearly, because he hardly swore at me. “H, don’t.” I did as he asked though, and just in time, because my mother appeared out of nowhere.
“Boys, there you are!” Mom was still dressed in her scrubs from work. She was a vet technician. “What are you doing out here on the ground?” Her brown eyes, identical to mine, narrowed.
“Just horsing around,” I assured her before standing up.
She had been concerned about my face when she’d seen it. I’d told her that too had come from us goofing off, but it was Holt getting hit by Jones’s car that had really set her off. She had fussed over him like a mother hen, and he’d hated every single moment of it.
Holt’s ears were bright pink as he kicked at the grass with his sneaker. “You know us boys,” he muttered.
Jesus, he looked guilty as fuck right now.
“How was work?” I tried to change the subject.
“Good, good. Are you staying for dinner? You leave tomorrow morning, and I was going to make your favorite.” Mom moved to put an arm around me.
