“Wait. No. You said both.” Edison flicked his gaze over my face, his voice hoarse. “What does that mean?”
It was my turn to be coy and facetious. Leaning closer, I nuzzled the damp hair at his temple and ensured that when I spoke, my words ghosted his ear.
“It means…” Edison shivered and stilled. “I won’t choose. It means there was a time long ago when I let your dad fuck me. We were young. In college. Same age as you are now. You were nothing but a glimmer in his eyes. So, he needed to know what happened between us, understand? Like I said, he’s a tad jealous.”
Edison absorbed that for a moment.
My phone rang again. I ignored it.
“But, y-you said both.”
“Yes, I did. Because he wanted me to choose. You or him.” I took Edison’s earlobe into my mouth and sucked. With my other hand, I snuck a single finger under the edge of his towel, savoring the warmth of his smooth skin. “How rebellious are you, Edison?”
He melted into my touch, hips jutting forward, seeking pressure against the fast-growing swell of his erection.
“You’re insane.”
“Possibly. Probably. Our whole family is messed up. It’s about time you realize that. First, I fucked around with my brother. Now, I have his delectable son in my house who makes me want to cross all those lines again. Don’t think I don’t remember those sweet noises you make right before you come. They’re burned into my mind. I’ve relived them plenty while jerking off. That’s why you came here, isn’t it? To have it all again?”
“Yes, but…”
I tugged the towel loose. It fell silently to the ground, pooling around his feet. I wrapped my hand around his erection and gave a few testing strokes. “You want it?”
He grabbed hold of my shirt, fists balling around the fabric as he went to his toes, a tiny gasp escaping his parted lips as his eyes fluttered closed. I stroked him a few more times, watching his face and every minuscule reaction.
I’d lost my mind. My intention was to drag him across the bridge to Crazyville and leave him wanting just enough so he might consider my proposal. The problem was, I wasn’t sure I’d have the willpower to back off once I’d made my point.
My dick throbbed and begged for attention. Memories of Edison’s tight ass squeezing me were as fresh today as the day I’d taken him to bed.
“Imagine it. My cock sinking into you, slow and steady. Owning you. Taking you to the edge over and over.”
His grip tightened. “Jesus, Uncle Den. Please.”
“Shh… Listen.” I increased my pace. My lips brushed his as I spoke. I released his elbow and traced a path over his round ass until I found his begging pucker with one finger. I applied pressure, not enough to penetrate but enough to tease. “Imagine me filling you with my cum then eating it out of your ass.”
He shuddered. His cock leaked.
“I w-want that.”
“I know you do. But I want more.”
He was deliriously confused. His forehead wrinkled as he trembled and wet his lips over and over, his orgasm building.
“Wh-what…? What more?”
“Imagine another man watching me fuck you, watching me clean you up with my tongue. Imagine him using my release for lube as he slides into your already stretched ass and fucks you until you come again.”
Edison groaned. His hips jerked forward. He wanted me to speed up, so I slowed down. He whimpered. “Please.”
I released his cock and grasped hold of his chin, keeping him in place so he’d look at me. “Open your eyes.”
“Please don’t stop,” he begged, the tempest raging and stirring and clouding his vision so all he could see was his pleasure on the horizon.
“I’m not choosing, Edison. Like I told your dad, I want you both. No negotiations. Those are my terms.”
I kissed him, sucking his plump lower lip into my mouth and suckling until my cock dripped a damp spot in my underwear. I’d made my point, but it was torture.
I ended the kiss far sooner than I wanted and held Edison’s gaze. His confusion marked his every feature.
“Think about it.”
Then I left him standing there naked in my office. Hard, ripe, and ready. I needed distance or I’d cave. I locked myself in my bedroom, showered, dressed, and was out the front door in under ten minutes.
Panic hit me in the chest before I reached the driveway. An unstoppable tremble made my hands shake as I found my keys.
What have I done?
I closed my eyes, pinching them shut as I steadied my breathing. This wasn’t like me. Maybe I was truly losing my mind. Harley was livid. Edison would be too once he came down off his high and made sense of my words. What if I never saw them again?
No matter how many times I pinched myself, I didn’t wake up. This wasn’t a dream. It was real, and I’d just given my brother and nephew the ultimatum of the century.
Who the fuck was I?
Chapter Two
Harley
“Denver! Don’t fucking hang up on me, jackass!”
It was too late. My brother had grown some balls in the last twenty minutes, and I wasn’t pleased with this radical turn of events.
I chucked my phone aside and scrubbed at my face, staring at the ceiling from the comforts of bed. So much for sleep. If Denver’s announcement about fucking my son wasn’t enough to wake me up, his proposition had driven the nail home.
He’d lost his mind. Denver had officially cracked. I knew it would happen eventually. He was so stuck in his stiff and unyielding life, lonely and introverted, and working himself to the bone for that unappreciative asshole of a boss. I always worried about my brother. Denver was the type who couldn’t say no to anyone. He was a people pleaser to a fault—to the detriment of his own happiness sometimes.
Stunned, I lay in bed a bit longer, absorbing our conversation and the severe change of course it had taken.
“I fucked your son.”
An unexpected nugget of jealousy wedged itself under my ribs, aching in the place where my cold dead heart resided.
“You fucking little bitch.” I balled my fists and punched the mattress, lips curling with the cold rage swamping my system.
There was no way Edison knew what had happened twenty years ago between Denver and me. He couldn’t know unless Denver had told him. This wasn’t Edison being vindictive and trying to provoke a reaction from me like everything else he did that annoyed and enraged me. This was a fine example of bad fucking luck—and possibly damaged genetics.
I grabbed my phone and redialed Denver’s number. No answer.
“Motherfucker.”
I rolled out of bed, cursing the early hour, the shitty heating system in the house that wasn’t pumping out enough warmth to take the winter chill out of the air, and my idiot son who just had to go stir up the past—unknowingly or not.
I scooped a dirty pair of jeans off the floor and tugged them on, taking pains to be careful not to zip my junk like I’d done last week. I roughed a hand over my jaw and sniffed my pits. I smelled like a bar and something candy-like. There were sparkles on my chest from one of the girls’ glittery body sprays. That shit got everywhere.
I needed a shower, a shave, and about three more hours of sleep, but that wasn’t happening. Not with Denver’s words still pinging around my head.