Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
No.
Not doing this.
Not what I need.
I pull away the bottle without taking a sip and I screw it shut, feeling a slow creep of restless energy sinking into my blood.
I don’t want to numb myself. I need to feel something. I need to feel like I’m alive, in a way I haven’t felt since… when?
I clench my fist tight.
Fuck this.
I step out into the hall and pad down the hallway straight to Torin’s bedroom door.
I knock on it hard, four times in a row.
Torin swings the door open.
And instantly I feel his eyes raking over my body.
I feel weak.
I hate that I really do feel safer in his presence, too, even though I practically feel like I had the breath knocked out of me just from looking at his gaze.
Jarring.
Frustrating as hell.
How does anyone fucking exist around you?
Torin’s hair is still slightly damp from his own shower, and he’s shirtless now as usual, wearing black jogging pants.
“Yes?” he asks.
I pause for a beat.
“Forget it,” I say as I exhale, turning to walk back toward my room.
My cock is starting to get hard.
Just because Torin fucking Jensen looked at me, I’m getting hard, because my brain is soup and I’m so fried that my own dick doesn’t realize that I’m not into men like that.
I walk back down the hall, gripping my bulge and feeling like I’m losing it.
I feel like I really am drunk, even though I didn’t have a drop.
The effect of Torin Jensen.
But I hear footsteps in the hall coming soon after. Torin follows me, showing up in my doorway a split second later.
He casually leans one tan, muscled arm on the doorframe, sizing me up.
“You knocked on my door.”
“I said forget it.”
He glances down toward my cock and for some reason I feel like he’s staring right at it, even though it’s clothed.
“You want me to watch you again?” he finally asks.
A lick of white-hot fire spreads through my chest.
Finally.
I’m feeling something other than terror, confusion, and churning thoughts.
I need that feeling… but I fucking know better, too.
“No,” I tell him firmly, glaring.
Lying to his face.
Suddenly I’m plagued with memories of every time Torin showed up at my family’s house in high school, and every time I had to see him over summer breaks during college.
All those years I spent hating him, dreading the day he’d become my stepbrother, and now he’s here at the edge of my dorm room looking at me like he’s waiting for me to beg for him.
It makes me sick.
I shouldn’t be turned on, but my cock hardens more at a rapid pace, so much blood rushing downward.
Just.
Fucking.
Chill.
It’s normal to get hard, because I have some dumb kink about being watched, and I’m just searching for any sensation after a horrible night.
Not because it’s him. God, fuck, I’d rather it be anyone in the world other than him.
Torin just bites his lower lip, studying me, so calm in the face of the all-out war happening inside my mind. “Is that the truth?”
My heart slams harder.
“What do you think?” I tell him.
He hums, glancing down toward my groin. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
I look lower and see that my erection is getting so hard that it’s now becoming obvious, even through these grey pants.
I swallow hard.
I don’t want to want it.
Torin’s eyes are half-lidded as he gazes at me. I keep noticing the glint of the metal from his nipple ring, reflecting in the lamp inside my bedroom.
Piercings. Just another little kink I have, another Kryptonite nuisance for my cock.
That doesn’t have to fucking mean anything.
All of this is just a game for him.
“You want to try that again, and this time, tell me the truth?”
“Nope.”
His eyes regard me like he’s pulling me under some sort of spell.
“So… you don’t want to stroke your cock until you can’t stand it anymore,” he says, and his low voice is too appealing when he talks like that. “And you don’t want to come all over yourself while I watch you, the entire time, and you have all of my attention centered on your cock. Right?”
I swallow past a suddenly dry throat. I feel like I can barely breathe, and I tip my head upward, looking at the ceiling.
“Hate you so much,” I whisper.
“I’m not doing it unless you say the word. We’re stepbrothers now. You can tell me things—”
“Fucking psycho,” I mutter. “Quit calling me that and pretending you’re not trying to mess with my mind.”
“Is it working?”
My cock throbs.
I look at him again and I know that I want something, but I have no idea how to say it.
“I just…”
Just leave.
Please, God, make this easier for me and go?
I hear the sound of other people coming up the staircase.
Right now, my door is wide open, and Torin’s in the doorway watching while my massive fucking boner is basically on display for anyone who walks by.