Page 5 of Wrapped Up In You
“I’m sorry my father made you feel that way. You have a gift. You should share it.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He moved on to another song, this time a sultry version of “Santa Baby.”He sang with a flirty demeanor, and that, combined with the velvety timbre of his voice, had my dick stirring in my pants once again. I hadn’t had any more alcohol since dinner, so with the effects of the liquor mostly worn off, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the effect he had on me. He was beautiful when he sang, like his soul was lit from the inside out, and like a moth to a flame, I found myself drawn to his light.
Abruptly, I stood, and he stopped playing mid-song, eyes wide in confusion. This madness had to stop. I could no longer deny the attraction I felt for him, but that didn’t mean I had to act on it. Icouldn’tact on it. There were rules in society. You didn’t fuck around with your stepsibling. It didn’t matter that we were both grown adults and hadn’t been raised together. It would tear our family apart. My father, in particular, wouldneverunderstand.
“I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to head to bed.” In the sudden silence of the cabin, my voice was unnaturally loud, as if I had no control over the volume.
“Oh, okay.” He laid the guitar in the case and rose to stand, facing me, just a few feet away. If he was surprised at my abrupt announcement, he didn’t let on. “I’ll take the couch since you were here first.”
I nodded, unsure what else to say, desperate to escape to the bedroom before he caught sight of the raging erection tenting my pants. “I’ll just brush my teeth, and then I’ll be out of your way.”
“Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”
I hurried to the bedroom to grab my dopp kit before returning to the bathroom. Hayden had moved the stool back to its spot and was now sitting on the edge of the couch, strumming his guitar softly and humming to himself.
I made quick work of my nightly routine and then stepped back into the living room. “It’s all yours,” I said, standing awkwardly in front of the fireplace.
He looked up from his guitar. “Okay. Thanks.” His smile was full of warmth, making me feel even worse about my attraction to him. He’d likely think I was a dirty old man if he knew what had been going on in my pants most of the night.
I nodded once more and headed into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I climbed into bed, shut off the bedside lamp, and pulled the covers up over me.
And stared at the ceiling for hours.
HAYDEN
December 24
It had been an absolute garbage night of sleep. My brain had bounced between the argument I’d had with Dad yesterday morning and the weird-as-fuck evening I’d had with Jonathan. Back and forth, back and forth, over and over, until I’d thrown my blanket off, and since the reception was shitty out here and I couldn’t stream anything, I resigned myself to reading a book on my Kindle app. My eyes had finally begun to droop, so I’d set my phone aside and fallen asleep.
I had no idea how long I slept before being woken up by Jonathan stumbling through the cabin in the dark, but however long it had been, it hadn’t been nearly long enough. He knocked into something and muttered a whispered curse before finally making it into the bathroom. Shortly thereafter, I heard the sound of the shower running. I had no idea what time it was because I’d forgotten to plug my phone in, but it was still dark, which, to my mind, made it entirely too early to be taking a shower.
The steady sound of water falling in the shower had nearly put me back to sleep when a very distinct groan caught my attention, causing my eyes to spring open and putting my ears on full alert. A grunt and another groan, this one louder than the last, had my cock taking notice too. Surely he wasn’t… Not with me in the next room and only a thin door separating us.
Too late, though, because I was already imagining it. Jonathan in the shower, cock in hand, stroking steadily up and down. Was he thick or long? Or both? He was probably using his left hand since his right was bandaged. Would that make it sloppy and frustrating? Or would changing it up make it more interesting?
Curiosity overriding good sense, I lowered the waistband of my joggers, my cock springing free, bouncing against my bare belly. I licked my palm and took my shaft in my left hand, stifling my own groan as pleasure coursed through me. I moved my other hand lower, rolling one ball and then the other, as I continued stroking, picking up the pace. Did Jonathan like his balls played with? Would he roll them around like I did, or would he prefer it a little rougher? I was willing to bet he liked it rough. Uptight guys like him always had a hidden freaky side.
It had been a long time since I’d imagined Jonathan this way—not since my teens. He’d held a prime spot in my spank bank roster until I’d finally outgrown my childish crush sometime during my senior year of high school. It turned out that having all of your perfect stepbrother’s achievements shoved in your face at every turn while simultaneously failing everything you tried was a bit of a turn-off.
None of that was stopping me from imagining it now though.
The angle of my stroke was different using my left hand, but that didn’t diminish my pleasure. I liked to mix things up in the bedroom, so why not jack off with the opposite hand? I picked up the pace, imagining Jonathan was doing the same, my hand shuttling up and down, faster and faster. The fire had died down to embers during the night, but that didn’t stop beads of sweat from forming on my brow as I worked myself over. My balls were tight and my body strained with the need to release, but it was the long, guttural moan coming from the bathroom that had my back arching and cum jetting all over my chest. Three spurts—no, four—all the way up to my shoulder, covering my abs and chest as I gritted my teeth, trying not to make a sound.
I lay there for a moment, my hand still wrapped around my spent dick, as I tried to catch my breath. I had sex regularly. I was a fan of having a good time, so why wouldn’t I seek out partners who wanted the same thing? Occasionally, I was exclusive with someone, but even then, it wasn’t really serious. It was always about pleasure and release and usually only lasted a few weeks. But tonight—this morning? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come so hard or for so long. Especially using my hand. No, not just my hand, mylefthand. And the fact that it had been Jonathan I’d been thinking about while I’d done it was a fucking head trip.
The shower stopped, the sudden silence spurring me into motion. I grabbed the T-shirt I’d stripped out of last night off the floor and used it to wipe up my mess. I tucked myself away, debating what to do next. Should I act like I was still asleep? Fuck it. If he was going to jerk off in the shower right next to where I was sleeping, then he could deal with the consequences. I wasn’t embarrassed. If he was, that was on him.
I leaned over and flipped on the lamp on the side table next to the couch just as Jonathan exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing behind him. My cock tried to rally at the sight of his bare chest, the small patch of dark hair nestled between his pecs glistening with moisture. I watched as a droplet broke free and trailed down his abdomen before disappearing into the patch of hair peeking out of the towel he held clutched around his hips. I knew he ran regularly, had heard my mom talk about him running a couple of marathons, but I had never appreciated a lean runner’s physique more than in that moment.
I returned my gaze to his face only to catch him admiring my bare chest just as openly as I’d admired his. One side of my mouth rose in a smirk as he bit the corner of his lip. I’d thought Jonathan was straight. Rebecca was the only person I’d ever heard of or known him to be with, though I assumed there had been others before her I hadn’t known about. But if the way he was looking at me was any indication, he was definitely somewhere on the queer spectrum.
I rubbed my hand up and down my chest a couple of times, his eyes tracking the motion. “Like what you see?”
His eyes snapped to mine, tension filling his body. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking like a fish. Then, without a word, he turned and bolted for the bedroom.
* * *
Iprobably shouldn’t have fucked with Jonathan like that this morning. The guy was clearly going through some shit, but I just couldn’t help but mess with him a little. He was always so perfect. So polished and put together. Catching him looking at me like that, with lust in his eyes, even after what had obviously been a jack-off session in the shower, was too much of a temptation. Besides, maybe he could do with a little distraction. I sure as shit could use one.
