Page 50 of Missed Steps
His mouth covers mine in a hard kiss as his hips twitch, and with his guidance, I squeeze every last drop of come from his cock. He breaks the kiss and collapses on top of me with a satisfied groan. I relish the weight of him on top of me, and wiggle to get my hands free to run them up the slopes of his back.
“That felt good,” I murmur, my lids heavy.
Mark’s chest rumbles as he chuckles. “An understatement, don’t you think?” He lifts his torso up and looks down on me, eyes glassy and lips kiss-swollen. His expression is soft and there’s a dreamy quality to his smile. “Think we can make it to the shower this time?”
I’m slack, and I don’t have the energy, but I nod.
Marks seems tired, too, but lifts me up with no qualms. “We got semen on the sleeve,” he notes as he carries me to the shower.
“We got semen on everything,” I grumble, seeing the messy sheets over his shoulder. Plus, our clothes are filthy. And it’s not like Mark has anything to change into. I think on it a moment. Nothing from my new wardrobe will fit him, but I still have my old things. “Check the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. There are some old clothes that might fit you.” Otherwise I’ll have to borrow something from Chris.
“I’ll have a look,” Mark says as he places me on the shower chair. “Hang on, I’ll grab the crutches.”
Chapter Seventeen
I’m ready to crawl back into bed again, but Mark has the sheets stripped when I come out of the bathroom. He plants a kiss on my mouth as he passes me going into the bathroom, and with a resigned sigh, I dress and pull on my prosthetic. I hesitate with my hand on the doorhandle leading to the rest of my apartment. I can smell bacon, and even though the apartment has solid walls, there’s no getting around the fact that Chris most likely heard me in bed.
Mark did tell me to be quiet; I just didn’t have the presence of mind to do so. Funny how he enforced the other instructions he gave me but didn’t seem to mind me not following that particular one.
I sigh. No point in standing here, lingering. I turn the handle and step out. Chris looks up from the kitchen island. He has a laptop open and papers laid out around him. A printer buzzes, humming as it spits out sheets.
“You bought a printer?” I ask. I go straight to the sink to fill a cup of water. I down it and fill another.
“I needed something to scan and send on my passport to the insurance company,” Chris informs me. “Sit.” He taps the chair next to him as he gets up, and I cross the room to sit there.
Chris opens the oven and pulls out a plate of food. A fully prepared, heaped plate of breakfast foods is set in front of me alongside cutlery. It looks amazing and smells even better.
“Thanks.” I forget my embarrassment, and pluck up the cutlery, digging in. It’s the biggest appetite I’ve had since the accident. I guess my little workout with Mark this morning left my body starved for energy. Chris retakes his seat, regarding me thoughtfully but I pretend not to notice. I’ve always been closer to Chris than anyone else in the family. But aside from telling him I was gay, we haven’t ever talked about relationships. Or sex. I’ve heard all our brothers boasting and talking about it around Chris, and he’s never given it much heed.
Although our brothers definitely haven’t had sex within earshot of Chris…
The bedroom door opens. Chris’s gaze slides to Mark, his expression unreadable. I turn my head to see Mark approach. He’s wearing a pair of joggers and a t-shirt that I never wore even before I lost weight because it was too big. It’s tight on Mark.
Mark comes to me, planting a kiss on my cheek before going to the other side of the kitchen island. “Want any tea? Coffee?” he asks me.
“Coffee would be nice,” I answer.
“How about you, Chris?” Mark asks.
Chris gives Mark the look that has our other brothers called to heel instantly. It’s cold, measured, and disapproving. I frown at Chris, not liking that he’s giving Mark that look when he had been fine with him yesterday. Mark stares back, and I don’t think it’s because he’s unaware that Chris isn’t happy with him; I think it’s because he’s giving his answer. Reaffirming once more that he isn’t going to be cowed into submission.
Mark raises an eyebrow at Chris. “Yes? No?” he prompts.
Chris leans back in his chair. He tilts his head, gaze fixed on Mark. “Coffee.”
Mark holds his gaze a few beats longer, then breaks eye contact to set a pot of coffee to brew.
I glance at Chris. “Is there another plate for Mark?” I ask.
Chris looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
I frown at him. Did he really make me a feast and not do anything for Mark, even though he knew he was here? I lower my fork and glance at my plate. Half left. “Mark, are you hungry? I’m finished.”
“Kyle,” Chris sighs.
I shoot him an irritated look. “What?”
“Finish your breakfast. Mark, there’s a plate in the oven for you.”
