He was awake. And he’d just realized he was balls deep inside me.

  “Don’t stop,” I repeated, reaching back to grab his hip, holding him in place. “Please don’t stop.”

  For a moment I thought he might pull away, might freak out about what was happening. But then he groaned, low and desperate, and his hips snapped forward hard.

  “You feel so good,” he breathed against my neck. “God, James, you’re so tight.”

  He was fully awake now, his movements becoming more purposeful. He adjusted his angle slightly and thrust in deep, making me cry out. His hand on my cock picked up speed, stroking me in time with his thrusts.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice strained. “Tell me this is okay.”

  “More than okay,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his hip. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. His thrusts became deeper, more confident, and I could feel him losing himself in the sensation. The hand on my cock was working me expertly now, his thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke.

  “I was dreaming about you,” he confessed, his voice rough in my ear. “About doing this. I didn’t think—fuck—I didn’t think it would actually happen.”

  “What else did you dream about?” I managed to ask, even though coherent thought was becoming difficult.

  His response was to bite down gently on my shoulder, his hips snapping forward hard enough to make the bed creak. “I dreamed about making you cum. About feeling you fall apart around me.”

  The words sent a shiver through me. This was a side of Kent I hadn’t seen before. He was confident, vocal, and completely uninhibited. Maybe it was easier for him in the dark, half-awake and driven by pure desire rather than overthinking everything.

  “Touch me harder,” I demanded, and he obliged immediately, his fist tightening around my cock.

  The dual sensations were overwhelming. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside me, and his hand was working me with increasing urgency. I could feel myself getting close, that familiar tension coiling at the base of my spine.

  “James,” Kent groaned, and I could hear the strain in his voice. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

  “Good,” I panted. “Want to feel you cum inside me.”

  He made a strangled sound, his rhythm faltering. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Maybe.” I clenched around him deliberately, and he cursed.

  His thrusts became erratic, chasing his release. I could feel him swelling inside me, could hear the desperation in every breath he took. The hand on my cock was moving frantically now, and I knew he was determined to make me cum first.

  “Come on,” he urged, his lips against my ear. “Cum for me, James. Want to feel it.”

  The combination of his words, his hand, and the relentless pressure against my prostate pushed me over the edge. My orgasm hit me like a freight train, pleasure crashing through me in waves. I came hard, spilling over his fist and onto the sheets below us, my whole body going rigid.

  The feeling of me clenching around him must have been too much. Kent buried himself deep and came with a low moan, his cock pulsing as he filled me. His hips jerked forward a few more times, riding out the aftershocks, before he finally went still.

  We lay there for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, his softening cock still inside me. His arm was still wrapped around my waist, holding me close, and I could feel his heart hammering against my back.

  “Holy shit,” he finally breathed.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, because what else was there to say?

  He pulled out slowly, and I felt the loss immediately. But before I could miss his warmth, he was rolling me over to face him, his hand cupping my cheek as he kissed me. It was soft and sweet, completely at odds with what we’d just done.

  “I can’t believe I just fucked you in my sleep,” he said when he pulled back, and I could hear the embarrassment creeping into his voice.

  “You woke up eventually,” I pointed out. “And you definitely finished the job awake.”

  He laughed, the sound low and genuine. “True. Still, that’s got to be the weirdest way I’ve ever had sex with someone.”

  “Weirdest? Or hottest?”

  He pretended to think about it. “Definitely hottest.”

  I grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Good answer.”

  We needed to clean up. I could feel his cum starting to leak out of me, and the sheets were definitely covered in lube. But neither of us seemed willing to move just yet. Instead, Kent pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin.

  “So,” he said after a moment, his face out of view. “About earlier. With Trevor.”

  My good mood deflated slightly. “Do we have to talk about that right now?”

  “Probably not the best timing,” he admitted. “But I want you to know I’m sorry. For how I reacted. You were right. I do put up walls when I get scared.”

  I pulled back to look at him. “And are you still scared?”

  “Terrified,” he said honestly. “But I’m also done running. You called me out on it, and you were right. I can’t keep doing that to you. To us.”

  The word ‘us’ made something warm bloom in my chest. “So, what does that mean?”

  “It means we figure this out together. Whatever Trevor does or doesn’t do, whatever happens at work, whatever our parents think if they ever find out… We handle it together.” His thumb stroked along my cheekbone. “I’m not saying I’m ready to shout it from the rooftops or anything. But I’m done pretending this doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.”

  I kissed him again, deeper this time, trying to pour everything I was feeling into it. When we finally broke apart, we were both smiling.

  “We should probably deal with this mess,” I said, gesturing to the sheets.

  Kent groaned. “Do we have to?”

  “Unless you want to sleep in the wet spot.”

  “Fair point.” He reluctantly pulled away, climbing out of bed. I watched him walk naked to the bathroom, completely unselfconscious, and felt a surge of affection so strong it almost hurt.

  This thing between us was messy and complicated and probably a terrible idea. But as Kent returned with a warm washcloth and started cleaning me up with gentle care that made my heart clench, I thought maybe we could make this work.

  “You’re being very sweet right now,” I observed, watching him concentrate on his task.

  “Yeah, well.” His ears went a little pink. “I just fucked you raw. Least I can do is clean you up after.”

  I laughed softly. “Such a gentleman.”

  “Shut up.” But he was smiling as he said it, tossing the washcloth toward the bathroom before crawling back into bed beside me.

  We ended up stripping the sheets and remaking the bed together, working in comfortable silence. When we finally settled back under the fresh covers, Kent immediately pulled me against him again, resuming his octopus position.

  “You’re a clingy sleeper,” I commented, though I made no move to pull away.

  “You literally ordered me to sleep in this bed with you. Don’t complain about the consequences.”

  He had a point. I settled more comfortably against him, letting my eyes drift closed. My body felt pleasantly worn out, satisfied in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.

  “James?” Kent’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you. For not letting me push you away.”

  I laced my fingers through his where they rested on my stomach. “Always.”

  His breathing evened out within minutes, and I wasn’t far behind. Whatever tomorrow brought—whether it was disaster or salvation, we’d face it together. That I was sure of.

  Chapter 20

  Kent

  All morning I’d been doing everything I could to be busy. It wasn’t often that I was actually at the office for the construction company. Usually I was out at jobs, supervising on site and making sure everything ran smoothly. But today Derek had asked me directly to come in for the day. I wanted to convince myself it was just for paperwork that I’d fallen behind on. But I knew the truth. Derek wanted to talk about my outburst last night at the bar.

  That coupled with the fact that I’d fucked my stepbrother for the first time last night, had me on edge in a way that I didn’t know was possible. I hadn’t been able to eat all morning, and the thought of coffee made my stomach turn. My hands were already shaking, and I doubted the caffeine would make that any better anyway.

  I’d busied myself with organizing supply invoices, checking time sheets, and responding to emails that didn’t really need immediate responses. Anything to avoid thinking about the inevitable conversation with Derek.

  Around ten-thirty, his office door opened and he stuck his head out, scanning the room until his eyes landed on me.

  “Kent. Got a minute?”

  My stomach dropped. “Yeah, sure.”

  I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady as I crossed the open office space. A few of the other guys glanced up from their desks, and I wondered if they’d already heard about last night. If Tyler had been running his mouth all morning.

  Derek’s office was small but organized, with blueprints tacked to one wall and a massive desk covered in project folders. He gestured to the chair across from him as he settled into his own seat.

  “Close the door, would you?”

  Fuck. That wasn’t a good sign.

  I did as he asked and sat down, trying to appear calm even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. Derek leaned back in his chair, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

  “So,” he started, folding his hands on the desk. “Want to tell me what happened last night?”

  I’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times in my head during the sleepless hour before dawn, but now that I was actually sitting here, all my carefully planned explanations evaporated.

  “I overreacted,” I said finally. “Tyler was making some jokes that rubbed me the wrong way, and I should’ve just let it go.”

  “Jokes about your stepbrother being gay.”

  “Yeah.”

  Derek nodded slowly. “From where I was sitting, it looked like a lot more than an overreaction,” he added carefully. “You were legitimately upset, which is fine. Tyler’s jokes can go a little far sometimes. But if last night had been a month or two ago, you would’ve been making those jokes right along with him.”

  I swallowed hard, knowing he was right. A few weeks ago, I would’ve been the first one to crack a joke about James bringing home some guy from a bar or making comments about him checking me out. The realization made shame curl hot in my gut.

  “People change,” I said, my voice coming out more sheepish than I intended.

  “They do,” Derek agreed. “But not usually overnight. So, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Not as your boss, but as someone who considers you a friend.”

  My pulse kicked up another notch. “Okay.”

  He leaned forward, his expression serious but not unkind. “Are you going through something right now? Something personal that’s affecting how you’re showing up to work, to these social situations?”

  The question was so direct, so unexpectedly compassionate, that for a moment I couldn’t speak. I’d been prepared for anger, for a lecture about professionalism, maybe even a warning about my job performance. I hadn’t been prepared for genuine concern.

  “I...” I started, then stopped. What could I possibly say? Yes, Derek, I’m going through something. I’m sleeping with my stepbrother and I think I might be in love with him, and it’s turning my entire understanding of who I am upside down.

  “You don’t have to give me details,” Derek continued when I didn’t respond. “But I’ve known you for years, Kent. You’re a good worker, reliable, and you’ve never caused problems before. So, when you storm out of a bar after defending your stepbrother like your life depends on it, I notice. When you come into work looking like you haven’t slept in days, I notice that too.”

  I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to buy myself time to think. Through my fingers, I could see Derek waiting patiently, his expression open and non-judgmental.

  “I’m figuring some stuff out,” I finally admitted. “About myself. And it’s... complicated.”

  “Does this have to do with your sexuality?”

  The question hit me like a punch to the gut. My hands dropped from my face and I stared at him, unable to hide my shock. Derek held up a hand before I could panic.

  “I’m not trying to put you on the spot,” he said quickly. “And I’m not asking you to come out to me or label yourself or anything like that. But I’ve been around the block, Kent. I recognize the signs of someone wrestling with something they’ve been taught to be ashamed of.”

  My throat felt tight. “How did you⁠—”

  “The way you reacted last night wasn’t just about defending your stepbrother. It was personal. Like Tyler’s words were hitting you directly.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t care who you’re attracted to. You do good work, you show up on time, and you treat people with respect. That’s what matters to me.”

  The relief that flooded through me was so intense I felt dizzy. I’d been so terrified of this conversation, convinced that admitting anything would mean losing my job, my reputation, everything I’d worked for. But here was Derek, offering me understanding instead of judgment.

  “I’m still figuring it out,” I said quietly. “I don’t have all the answers yet.”

  “Nobody does,” Derek said with a slight smile. “But here’s what I need from you as your boss. Whatever you’re going through personally, I need you to keep it professional at work. That means you need to get some sleep and take better care of yourself. Can you do that?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

  “Good. And I’ll talk to the guys and tell them they need to tone down the jokes a bit. They could stand to be a bit more professional, anyway.” He pulled a folder from the stack on his desk, effectively signaling that the serious part of the conversation was over. “Now, about the Jackson project. I need you to run point on the electrical inspection next week...”

  We spent the next twenty minutes going over project details, and I was grateful for the return to normalcy. But as I left his office and headed back to my desk, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted. Derek knew. Maybe not the specifics, maybe not about James, but he knew enough. And he didn’t care.

  The thought was both terrifying and liberating.

  I pulled out my phone, seeing a text from James that had come through while I was in Derek’s office.

  James: How’s work going? Everything okay?

  I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I thought about last night—both the disaster with Trevor and the incredible intimacy that had come after. The way James had refused to let me pull away, had demanded that I stay and face what was happening between us. The way he’d felt underneath me, around me, the sounds he’d made...

  Me: Better than expected. Tell you about it tonight.

  Three dots appeared immediately.

  James: Can’t wait. Also, I’m making dinner. Real food, not takeout.

  Me: You cook now?

  James: Don’t sound so surprised. I know how to use Google.

  Heat crept up my neck and I quickly locked my phone, glancing around to make sure nobody was reading over my shoulder. The last thing I needed was someone seeing that message.

  But I was smiling as I turned back to my computer, and for the first time all day, the knot of anxiety in my chest had loosened slightly.

  Maybe we could actually do this. Maybe it didn’t have to be the disaster I’d been convinced it would be. Derek’s acceptance had shown me that not everyone would react with disgust or judgment. Some people—the right people—would understand.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and phone calls. Tyler avoided me, which was fine by me. Marcus gave me a sympathetic nod when our paths crossed in the break room but didn’t bring up the previous night. By the time five o’clock rolled around, I was exhausted but in good spirits.

  I drove home with the windows down, letting the cool air clear my head. The apartment was filled with the smell of something savory when I walked in—garlic and herbs and what might have been chicken. James was in the kitchen, wearing a plain apron that I was pretty sure had never seen the light of day before.

  “You actually cooked,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter.

  He looked up from whatever he was stirring on the stove, a smile spreading across his face. “Told you I would. How’d it go with Derek?”

  I moved closer, drawn to him like a magnet. “He knew. Or at least, he suspected.”

  James’s expression shifted to concern, his hand stilling on the spoon. “And?”

  “And he was cool about it. Said he didn’t care who I was attracted to, just that I needed to keep it professional at work.” I leaned against the counter beside him, close enough that our shoulders touched. “He’s going to talk to the guys about toning down the jokes.”

  “Wow.” James set the spoon down and turned to face me fully. “That’s... that’s really good, Kent.”

  “Yeah.” I felt something loosen in my chest, something I hadn’t even realized was wound so tight. “I was terrified all day, thinking he was going to fire me or lecture me about how I was representing the company. But he was just... cool.”

  James reached out, his hand finding mine. “See? Not everyone is going to react badly.”

  “One person,” I pointed out. “That’s a sample size of one. Trevor sure as hell didn’t take it well.”

  “Trevor was hurt and confused. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s going to tell anyone. What would he even say? He doesn’t have any proof, and honestly, who would believe him anyway?” James squeezed my hand. “We’re stepbrothers. Most people would assume he was just being vindictive after a breakup.”