The next week, everything felt… different.
Even just hanging out with Jake, scrolling through my phone, or lying in the hammock in the backyard—it all seemed like background noise compared to the one thing echoing in my head: the memory of Mark’s body pressed against mine.
I couldn’t focus on anything. I’d grab a notebook to doodle, but instead of writing, I found myself sketching broad shoulders, strong arms, even the faint outline of a bulge under sweatpants.
Every time Jake said something casual like, “Dad’s grilling tonight, wanna come by?” my heart skipped in a way it never had before.
It was dangerous. And addictive.
Friday rolled around. Another sleepover.
I told myself it was the same as always, just beers, games, and late-night laughs.
But deep down, I knew I wasn’t going for Jake this time.
That night, the three of us had dinner together. Mark grilled steaks out on the deck, the smell of seared meat drifting through the summer air. He looked casual in a white T-shirt, his arms flexing as he handled the tongs.
I caught myself staring too long. He noticed. His eyes flicked to mine for just a second—nothing more. But it was enough. A silent promise.
Jake wolfed down his food, then yawned exaggeratedly.
“Man, I’m dead tired. Tyler, you staying over?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Don’t keep drinking without me, old man,” Jake muttered, laughing as he headed upstairs.
And just like that, it was the same situation as last time.
Me. Mark. And the silence of the kitchen.
I tried to act normal, rinsing my plate in the sink, but Mark came up behind me. His presence filled the space, his body heat brushing against my back.
“You came back,” he murmured.
My hands froze under the running water.
“…Yeah.”
“You couldn’t stay away, could you?”
I turned slowly, my chest almost touching his. His eyes were steady, calm—but burning with something I couldn’t deny.
“…No. I couldn’t.”
Mark smiled faintly, then leaned in close enough that his breath tickled my ear.
“Then show me again how badly you want this.”
My whole body shivered.
This time, it wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just curiosity.
It was hunger.
I kissed him first.
Mark’s lips crushed against mine. His kiss was deep, confident, tasting of beer and smoke from the grill. His hand slid under my shirt, rough fingertips stroking my stomach until I shivered.
“God, Tyler…” he murmured, pressing me back against the counter. “You feel so good.”
I clung to him, lost in the heat of his body. His hardness pressed against me, urgent, undeniable.
And then—
A faint creak.
The sound of wood shifting.
The stairs.
My heart jumped, but Mark didn’t notice. His mouth was on my neck, teeth grazing my skin.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.
A shadow, just beyond the kitchen doorway.
Jake.
He was standing halfway down the stairs, one hand gripping the banister, his face pale in the dim light. His eyes wide, fixed on us.
I froze, panic exploding inside me.
But Jake… didn’t move.
Instead, his other hand slowly, shakily, lowered toward his crotch.
My breath caught in my throat.
He wasn’t running.
He wasn’t yelling.
He was watching.
And he was hard.
Mark’s hand slid lower, palming me through my jeans. “You’re shaking,” he whispered against my ear, mistaking the reason. “Relax. Just let me take care of you.”
I wanted to push him away, to warn him—but my body betrayed me. My knees weakened, a moan escaped my lips, and Jake’s eyes seemed to darken.
The faintest sound came from him—a muffled gasp, like he was trying not to breathe too loud.
Mark kissed me harder, oblivious.
Jake’s knuckles whitened on the railing as his hips shifted almost imperceptibly.
I was caught between two burning gazes.
Mark’s lips, commanding and sure.
Jake’s eyes, wide with something between horror and desire.
And I… couldn’t stop.
Mark’s arms pulled me tightly against his chest.
The gentleness from before had vanished, replaced by the raw, feverish hunger of a man consumed by desire.
“Tyler… I can’t hold back anymore.”
His whisper brushed my ear, sending a violent shiver down my spine.
My hips, pressed against the counter, were driven forward even harder.
“Ah—nngh…!”
A cry escaped me before I could stop it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Jake’s trembling shoulders in the shadows of the staircase.
That forbidden presence sparked not only fear but an unbearable surge of arousal.
Mark’s hands clamped firmly around my ass, shoving me mercilessly deeper.
“Ugh—ahh… so deep—!”
Each thrust into the pit of my stomach wrenched voiceless sounds from my throat.
“So tight… damn it, you’re incredible, Tyler…!”
Mark’s guttural growl spilled hot against my back.
His ragged breaths, the sound of sweat dripping—it drowned me completely.
I couldn’t hold back my own voice any longer.
“More…! Please, give me more…!”
The words tumbled from my lips, so shamelessly honest I could hardly believe they were mine.
Behind me, Mark let out a short laugh and slammed his hips even harder into me.
My fingers clutched the counter so tight my knuckles turned white.
With every ruthless thrust, my vision blurred into dazzling white.
In the corner of my sight, Jake reached his breaking point, stifling his moans as he spilled himself in silence.
The sight drenched me in guilt—and yet only fueled the overwhelming ecstasy.
Mark’s pace grew wilder, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing through the kitchen.
“Tyler… I’m close…!”
“Me too… together—!”
In that instant, the heat burst deep inside me.
“Ugh—Tyler…!”
“Ahhh—!”
My own release streaked hot across my stomach, even as Mark’s thick warmth flooded into me.
Our voices tangled, half-choked, as we melted into one in the middle of the kitchen.
—But I knew.
In the shadows of the stairs, Jake had witnessed everything.
That truth gnawed at my chest, even as the aftershocks still shook my body.
