Page 59 of Stepbrothers with Benefits
“Howdo you always manage that?” he snarled, doing his best to keep his hands free from my grasp. Eventually, he would realize what I already had: that he would never keep his hands free and get himself out of the hold I had. It wasn’t even a choice of one or the other; trying to free the rest of his body required his hands, which were distracted by trying to stay free, and his lower body was basically helpless.
“I guess someone is wishing they’d kept up with their yoga,” I panted, grinning to show that, despite my heavy breathing from the effort the little bastard was making me put in, I was still in control. Considering his options were either giving up or delaying the inevitable while tiring himself out, I had every reason to feel smug.
“Yoga is for New Age weirdos and twinks,” he protested. “All that stretching and breathing, and for what?”
“Clearly, it has its uses,” I said, ensuring he didn’t wriggle out of my grasp. I had him good, but while Milo wasn’t the best planner, he was a world-class improviser. He could find an angle or maneuver I wouldn’t anticipate and go at it before I realized I was being outdone. “Plus, I would have thought that stretchingand learning how to breathe would be really useful when you’re under some guy.”
“Some guy,” he muttered, slapping at my hands when I caught one of his wrists again. “You make me sound so easy.”
“If the shoe fits.”
“Gasp! You would call into question my dignity and propriety.”
“I’m saying you have no dignity, and despite the minimal effort you’ve put into it, you don’t understand propriety either.”
“This from the guy who sleeps nude!”
“Don’t you wish I slept like that and kept the door open?”
He stiffened beneath me, glaring up. “Really?”
“What?” I asked innocently, cocking my head as his attempts to fight me off stopped so he could focus all of his annoyance on me. “Am I wrong?”
“You know,” he said, eyes narrowing further. “Every time you make a joke at my expense about that, I feel a little less guilty about the whole thing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“And you can be all smug about it, but I want to point out that you’re currently making fun of me for being attracted to you, while just about everything you’ve done from the moment I got in the door counts as increasingly more effective attempts at seduction.”
“Right,” I relented because, yeah, giving him food, providing him alcohol, playing games with him, and then manhandling him was probably the verbatim step-by-step list of how to get into Milo’s pants with no extra effort. The realization stood out because I’d known that on some level, but having it presented so neatly and succinctly gave it a new light that caught my attention. That, of course, made me take stock of the position we were in, his leg hooked over one of my shoulders and the rest of his body pretty much pinned to the ground by my hips andgrip, and...alright, it did look pretty bad. “Not exactly what I was going for, but if it makes you stop acting like you might lose your shit and tackle me to the ground to try to have your way with me.”
“No,” he grunted, pushing against me. “Clearly you’re the one doing the tackling.”
“Haven’t had my way with you, though.”
“I mean, yeah, but still... Can I be honest, real quick?”
“When the fuck have I ever wanted you to be anything but honest with me? Jesus.”
“It might be the booze, or the fact that after everything that happened my feelings for you are a lot closer to the surface than they’ve been since I was fourteen, or I don’t know... but I’m definitely feeling like I’m about to be taken advantage of and I’ll be real here... it doesn’t feel like normal play anymore.”
I squinted. “Are you trying to tell me you’re turned on?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah.”
That would have been the perfect moment to let go and ease off so he could do something to calm down, maybe a cold shower. It was one thing to tease him in the usual sense, but to go further and tease him sexually was cruel. Looking at him, I swore I could see his inner battle. On one side was the Milo who wanted me to get off him, and on the other was the Milo who definitely did not want me to.
His loose grip tightened when I didn’t think about glancing down, and while not surprised, I was...amused to find that he wasn’t lying. The loose shorts he had put on were bunched up at the top of his thighs, exposing the white skin that never saw sunlight and the sparse layer of blond hair that caught the light from the screens. My eyes lingered longer than usual, having never thought about the hair in so intimate an area on another guy, despite having plenty of my own.
It was where his shorts bunched up, however, that gave truth to his statement. I could remember two weeks ago, clear enough to know that what I saw was not Milo completely hard; I had felt enough in my hand to know the bulge I could make out was probably only halfway to full stiffness. I had inadvertently treated him to his version of a perfect date night, and now had him pinned under my weight, which was the perfect come-on as well. I briefly wondered if anyone he had slept with or dated had ever treated him to such a perfect moment of wining, dining, and seduction, because I had done it flawlessly without intending to.
“Eli,” Milo whined, and I looked at his face as he wriggled under me. Now that I was paying complete attention to his body, I was also paying attention to my own. That translated to being hyper aware of the feel of his ass accidentally grinding against my groin. It had been happening pretty much the entire time we’d been wrestling, but now it felt a whole lot less innocent, and it was taking snatches of my attention. “You’ve made your point, okay? I’ll do better about not being a weirdo about being into you. I’ll stop beating myself up and acting skittish, okay? Just...c’mon, this is mean...really mean.”
My eyes dropped again, but this time I wasn’t pulled immediately to his shorts. Now I could see his shirt riding up, exposing about an inch or so of his stomach. I had never paid much attention to his stomach or any part of his body, despite probably seeing most of it more than anyone else he had known. A flat stomach wasn’t all that strange; I’d been with enough athletic girls to have seen my share on the fairer sex. I couldn’t remember any of them ever having coarse hairs, though, a strip leading from the confines of his underwear and up to his belly button, clearly a grooming choice on Milo’s part.
Curiosity jerked my hand from Milo’s wrist, and I set my fingertips gently on the exposed stomach. Milo had gone still, and I ran my finger back and forth, getting a feel for it andapplying pressure. It was different, noticeably so, because the hair tickled my fingertips and I realized there was a hardness to his flat stomach that had never been there with even the most athletic woman I’d been with...at least, none of them had that degree of firmness. So yes, noticeable, but not...unpleasant.
