Trevor straightened his shirt, his expression contemptuous. “Whatever. You two deserve each other.” He turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “Hope it’s worth it when everyone finds out.”

  I stood there, fists clenched at my sides, watching him go. James’s hand was on my back, steady and grounding.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  “No,” I admitted. “I wanted to punch his fucking teeth out.”

  “I know. Thank you for not doing that.” He tugged at my arm gently. “Come on, let’s go inside before we attract anymore unwanted attention.”

  I followed him into the building, my mind racing. Trevor’s words echoed in my head. Would he make good on his threat? Who would he know that would even care about us?

  As we stepped into the elevator, James pushed the button for our floor and then turned to face me. “Kent, look at me.”

  I dragged my gaze to his, still buzzing with anger and fear.

  “He’s just trying to get under your skin,” James said, his voice calm and certain. “He’s hurt and lashing out. I don’t think he’s actually going to tell anyone.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because who would he even talk to? He doesn’t know any of my friends, my clients, or my family. He’s just a heartbroken ex with nothing better to do but cause trouble.”

  The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the hallway. James unlocked our door, and we went inside, the familiar space immediately bringing a sense of calm. I felt the tension in my shoulders start to ease as James closed and locked the door behind us.

  “I shouldn’t have lost it like that,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I just... when he started talking about you⁠—”

  “You went all protective caveman on him,” James finished, a small smile playing at his lips. “It was kind of hot, actually.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “Hot? I nearly punched your ex-boyfriend in broad daylight.”

  “Ex-hookup,” he corrected. “And yes, hot. Though I’m glad you didn’t actually hit him.”

  I sank down onto the couch, the adrenaline leaving my system and making me feel suddenly exhausted. “What if he does tell someone? What if he finds out who my dad is, or where I work?”

  James sat beside me, his thigh pressed against mine. “He won’t. How could he?”

  “I meant what I said, you know,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “You’re mine, James. I don’t care what anyone thinks about that.”

  James reached over and tilted my face toward him. His eyes were soft, full of an emotion that made my chest ache. “I know. And you’re mine too.”

  Without warning, he leaned in and kissed me, hard and possessive. I responded immediately, my hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, became hungrier, all teeth and tongue and desperate need.

  I pushed him back against the couch, my body covering his as we continued to kiss. His hands slid under my shirt, palms hot against my skin, and I groaned into his mouth.

  “Fuck me,” he gasped when we broke apart for air. “Now.”

  In a flash he was standing, stripping his clothes off in a flash. I barely had time to unbutton my own jeans before he reached down and practically tore them off, my already hard cock springing free. He turned away only for a moment to grab a bottle of lube before he was climbing into my lap, his ass warm and soft against my cock.

  “You’re so fucking sexy, James,” I murmured against his throat as I pulled him in, nipping at the sensitive skin there. “I need you.”

  James ground his ass against my dick, his hands laced behind my neck. “Then take me.”

  I growled like an animal and claimed his mouth again. The encounter with the waiter and then Trevor had awakened something in me, a need to mark James as mine, to erase any doubt about who he belonged with.

  Grabbing the lube, I poured a generous amount into my hand. I reached around James, my fingers finding his hole instantly. He moaned and leaned against me, his chest pressed against mine as I slipped a finger easily inside him.

  “Oh fuck…” he groaned against my ear. “Fuck Kent… just like that. Make me yours.”

  I worked another finger inside him, watching his face contort with pleasure as I stretched him open. The way he moved against me, desperate and needy, made my cock throb with anticipation. I’d never wanted anyone the way I wanted James. It was like a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied no matter how many times I had him.

  “You ready for me?” I asked, my voice rough with desire.

  “Yes,” he hissed, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed down at me. “I need you inside me now.”

  I removed my fingers and positioned my cock at his entrance, gripping his hips with both hands. James reached between us to guide me, and then he was sinking down, taking me inch by inch until I was fully sheathed inside him. We both groaned at the sensation. The tight heat of him around me was almost too much to bear.

  “Ride me,” I commanded, my fingers digging into his hips.

  James didn’t need to be told twice. He began to move, lifting himself up before dropping back down, setting a pace that had us both panting. I watched his face as he rode me, mesmerized by every expression of pleasure that crossed his features. His cock bounced between us, hard and leaking, but neither of us reached for it. I wanted to see if he could cum just from my cock inside him.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I murmured, leaning forward to capture his mouth in another kiss. “So tight and warm.”

  “Kent,” he gasped, his movements becoming more frantic. “Oh god, right there. That feels so fucking good…”

  I shifted my hips, thrusting up to meet him as he came down, hitting that spot inside him that made him cry out with pleasure. His head fell back, exposing the long line of his throat, and I couldn’t resist leaning in to bite at the sensitive skin there, marking him as mine.

  “Everyone should know,” I growled against his skin. “Everyone should see that you’re mine.”

  “Yes,” he moaned, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Yours, Kent. Only yours.”

  The possessiveness that surged through me was overwhelming. I wrapped my arms around him and flipped our positions, pressing him into the couch as I took control, driving into him with renewed purpose. James cried out, his legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me in deeper.

  “Look at me,” I demanded, needing to see his eyes. “I want to see you when you cum.”

  His eyes locked with mine, dark and filled with the same desperate need I felt coursing through my veins. I reached between us, wrapping my hand around his cock, but he shook his head.

  “Don’t need it,” he gasped. “Just keep—fuck—just like that. I’m going to cum just from your cock.”

  The words sent a jolt of pure lust through me. I angled my hips, making sure to hit his prostate with each thrust, watching his face for every reaction. His breathing grew more ragged, his body tensing beneath me.

  “That’s it,” I encouraged, not slowing my pace. “Let go for me, James. Show me how good I make you feel.”

  His eyes never left mine as he came undone, his body arching off the couch as he reached his climax untouched. The sight of him orgasming beneath me, combined with the feeling of him clenching around my cock, pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep inside him as bliss tore through me, his name falling from my lips without a thought.

  For a long moment, we stayed like that, breathing hard, our bodies still joined. Then I carefully pulled out and collapsed beside him on the couch, pulling him against my chest.

  “Holy shit,” James murmured, his voice muffled against my skin.

  “Fuck yes…” I agreed, unable to form a more coherent response. My heart was still racing, my body humming with satisfaction.

  We lay in comfortable silence, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. I felt strangely calm now, the anger and fear from earlier replaced by a bone-deep contentment. Trevor’s threats seemed less important in the aftermath of what we’d just shared.

  “I meant what I said,” I finally spoke, my voice quiet in the stillness of the apartment. “You’re mine, James.”

  He just smiled at me, snuggling in closer. “Good. Because that’s right where I want to be.”

  Chapter 24

  James

  Isat in silence as the clients looked over the final files I’d sent them. I’d been working on this rebrand for nearly a month now with lots of revisions going back and forth. But today was it, I was finally delivering them the completed project and I could barely contain my anxiety, especially after what happened with my last client.

  I watched nervously as Michelle, the marketing director, scrolled through my presentation on her laptop. Next to her, Roger, the CEO, was examining the printouts I’d provided, his expression frustratingly neutral. The conference room felt too warm suddenly, and I resisted the urge to loosen my collar.

  “Well,” Michelle finally said, looking up with bright eyes, “I think you’ve absolutely nailed it, James.”

  Relief washed through me so intensely I almost laughed. “You do?”

  Roger nodded, setting down the printouts. “The typography is perfect. Modern but still approachable. And the color palette—” he gestured to the brand guide I’d created “—it’s exactly what we were hoping for. Distinctive without being too trendy.”

  “The logo variations are brilliant,” Michelle added. “Having the simplified version for social media was exactly what we needed.”

  I allowed myself to breathe normally for the first time in what felt like hours. After the disaster with my previous client I’d been terrified of another failure. Especially with how distracted I’d been lately, splitting my focus between work and the situation with Kent.

  “I’m so glad you’re happy with it,” I said, my professional smile finally feeling genuine. “I really enjoyed working with your team on this project.”

  Roger leaned forward, his expression shifting to something more serious. “Actually, James, we were hoping to discuss another opportunity with you. We have a second brand that needs refreshing, and after seeing what you’ve done here...” He glanced at Michelle, who nodded encouragingly. “We’d like to hire you for that project as well. Immediately, if possible.”

  I blinked, momentarily stunned. Two major projects back-to-back from the same client? That kind of stability was rare in freelance work, and exactly what I needed right now.

  “I’d be very interested,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “What kind of timeline are you thinking?”

  As Michelle outlined their needs for the second project, my mind was already racing with possibilities. This could mean financial security for months, maybe even the chance to raise my rates for future clients. Plus they had connections with other startups that might be able to use my services as well. It was the first domino in what I hoped would be a long chain.

  And honestly, the distraction would be welcome. As much as things with Kent had been incredible, the constant secrecy was starting to wear on me. Every text from my mom was left unanswered, Kent tensed up whenever we were in public together, and every moment spent wondering if Trevor had told anyone about us... it was exhausting.

  “...so we were hoping to launch the new brand by early spring,” Michelle was saying, pulling me back to the present. “Would that timeframe work for you?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied, quickly refocusing. “I can have a preliminary concept presentation ready in two weeks.”

  Roger’s face lit up. “Perfect. I’ll have accounting send over a contract tomorrow.”

  We spent another thirty minutes discussing specifics, and by the time we wrapped up, I felt almost lightheaded with success. As we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, I couldn’t help imagining Kent’s face when I told him the news.

  He’d been so supportive through this project, listening to me rant about client feedback and offering honest opinions when I showed him drafts. For someone who claimed to know nothing about design, he had good instincts. And the way his eyes lit up when he was genuinely impressed by something I’d created... that was better than any client approval.

  Outside the building, I pulled out my phone to text him.

  Me: Just finished the meeting. Nailed it. They want to hire me for ANOTHER project immediately!

  His response came almost instantly.

  Kent: Fuck yes! I knew you would crush it. Celebration dinner tonight?

  I smiled at the phone, warmth spreading through my chest.

  Me: Definitely. I’ll pick up wine on the way home.

  Kent: You’re amazing. Can’t wait to see you when I get home from work.

  Simple praise shouldn’t make my heart race, but it did when it came from Kent. Every time.

  As I walked to my car, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. One professional win wouldn’t solve all our problems, but right now, it was exactly what I needed. It was something going right in my life that I could actually tell people about.

  Tonight, I’d celebrate with Kent. Tomorrow, I’d figure out how to balance this new project with the increasingly complicated reality of loving my stepbrother in secret.

  I pulled out of the parking lot with a stupid smile on my face that I couldn’t seem to wipe away. The meeting couldn’t have gone better if I’d scripted it myself. After weeks of anxiety and revisions, they not only loved my work but wanted more. That kind of validation was exactly what I needed after my last client disaster.

  Traffic was light as I headed toward my favorite wine shop downtown. Kent had developed a surprising appreciation for good reds since moving in, and I wanted something special for our celebration. Something that said, “I’m killing it professionally even if my personal life is a complicated mess.” Preferably with earthy notes.

  As I waited at a stoplight, my phone buzzed with a text from my mom again. The guilt was starting to compound with each day I ignored her. But what could I possibly say? Every conversation felt like walking through a minefield now.

  The wine shop was quiet when I arrived, just a few customers browsing the aisles. I picked out a nice bottle of Cabernet that was a little above my usual price point. Tonight we deserved something special. The clerk smiled as she rang me up, asking if I was celebrating something.

  “Just a good day at work,” I replied, suddenly aware of how normal I sounded. Like I was just a regular guy buying wine to share with his boyfriend, not his stepbrother.

  The drive home was quick, and I hummed along to the radio, already imagining Kent’s reaction to the news. He’d been so supportive through all my work stress lately. It was still surprising sometimes, this new version of him that cared about my success, that wanted to hear about my day. He wasn’t the bully I grew up with anymore. He was quickly becoming my… well, everything.

  I pulled into my usual parking spot, grabbing the wine and my laptop bag before heading up to the apartment. As I rounded the corner to my door, I stopped short.

  My mother was standing there, a small suitcase at her feet, looking like she hadn’t slept in days.

  “Mom?” I nearly dropped the wine. “What are you doing here?”

  She looked up, her face a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “James, thank god. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, I was at a client meeting and—” I cut myself off, suddenly terrified. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

  She ran a hand through her disheveled hair. “Your stepdad and I... we’re getting a divorce.”

  The words hung in the air between us. Kent’s father. They were divorcing. My mind immediately went to Kent. How would he react? What would this mean for us?

  “I’m so sorry,” I managed. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story.” She glanced at the door. “Can we talk inside? I hate to impose, but all the hotels are booked because of that Halloween convention they do every year. I just need somewhere to stay tonight. I’ve already got a place for tomorrow onward.”

  My heart rate doubled instantly. My mother. Staying here. Where Kent and I had been living together as much more than stepbrothers.

  “O-Of course,” I said, fumbling for my keys. “Come in.”

  As I opened the door to the apartment building, panic clawed at my throat. There was evidence of Kent everywhere in my studio apartment. His clothes were mixed with mine in the laundry basket by the bathroom, his toothbrush was next to mine, and his pillow was on my bed. And Kent himself would be home from work in less than an hour.

  We took the elevator up to my floor, then walked the long corridor in silence. I unlocked my door and pulled it open.

  “Let me just...” I gestured vaguely as she stepped inside. “Clean up a bit. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  She gave me a tired smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just grateful you’re here.”

  I set the wine on the counter and pulled out my phone, typing frantically.

  Me: CODE RED. My mom is here. At the apartment. She and your dad are getting divorced. She needs to stay the night.

  I watched the three dots appear and disappear several times before Kent’s reply came through.

  Kent: WHAT?? Are you serious? I’m leaving work now.

  My mother had settled onto the couch, her eyes taking in the apartment. I tried to see it through her eyes. Were there obvious signs that Kent and I were sharing a bed rather than him sleeping on the couch? Had we left anything incriminating out?

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, trying to sound normal. “Water? Wine? I just picked up a bottle.”

  “Water is fine for now,” she said, her voice small.

  As I filled a glass in the kitchen, I scanned the apartment for anything that needed to be hidden. There was a pair of Kent’s boxers peeking out from under the bed. I casually walked over and nudged them underneath with my foot.

  “So,” I said, handing her the water and sitting in the chair across from her. “Want to tell me what happened?”