Jaeger’s laugh trails off before he does, low and careless. He’s saying something to a guy outside, but doesn’t invite him in. When he turns and sees me, his expression sharpens.
“Hey,” he says, drawing the door shut behind him with a quiet whoosh of air. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“Don’t really have anywhere else to go around here.”
“Feel like we haven’t been good hosts.” His gaze lingers for a moment too long on my face.
“You seem better,” he adds, testing what I know without having to actually ask anything.
“I’m fine.”
Jaeger steps further inside, the soft thud of his boots against the hardwoods fill the room with sparse generosity. “You remember anything yet?”
I shake my head once. “No. Nothing.”
He exhales through his nose almost regretfully. “We’ll figure it out.”
He rocks back on his heels and looks around like he’s suddenly lost interest in the conversation.
“But, if you start piecing stuff together, maybe write it down or something. Could be useful for the guys trying to investigate. Don’t want you mixing dreams with real life,” he smiles.
A good number of boys including Carter walk through the door. Carter stops upon seeing us, raising an eyebrow before smiling at both of us.
Jaeger’s smile stays fixed, but his shoulders tighten. He nods once toward Carter, then slips past me upstairs. Carter claps him on the shoulder in passing, then replaces him in the space around me.
“You holding up okay?”
“Yeah. Just… trying to make sense of things.”
“Right.” Carter studies me briefly, then glances upstairs. “Is he giving you a hard time?”
When do I admit he fucked me too? “No.”
His jaw flexes like he doesn’t totally buy it, but part of that could be folded into petals of jealousy. “You need anything, you come to me. Not him, alright?”
I nod. Maybe he senses that Jaeger is closer than he’d like. I’m not a fan of territoriality, but I can’t say that I don’t get it.
“Do you wanna do anything tonight?”
“You still owe me a campus tour,” I suggest.
“A campus tour, really?”
“I told you I liked to go on walks at night to clear my mind.”
His posture loosens and he smiles. “Alright. What do you wanna see?”
“Everything. I wanna see your world.”
I nod. Reuben appears and comes downstairs. Reuben’s presence is a wedge between us, always. It’s like he knows exactly when I’m about to unravel Carter.
“Going somewhere?” He eyes the lanyard still tight in Carter’s grip.
“I was gonna show Cameron around. You need something?”
Reuben stands at the bottom of the stairs with his eyes splitting between us. Carter shifts beside, his hand presses gently against the small of my back.
“Nah. Just wondering where my invitation was.”
“You don’t get one. Spontaneity.”
“Mhmmm.” Reuben leans against the bannister, arms crossed. “Don’t get too sloshed, you know how Lachlan feels about liabilities.”
“Oh, trust,” Carter smiles. “Won’t be a problem.”
Reuben concedes something possibly for the first time in his life. His gaze warps down the map of veins on Carter’s forearms. Reuben eventually disappears down a hallway and Carter leads me outside.
“It’s safe to say you’ve shaken things up around here.”
“Think so?” I smile.
Carter leans into me a bit and we match stride. “Absolutely. The way you got Reuben acting like he’s got feelings, and Jaeger–” he considers his next words carefully. “I’ve never seen him so off-balance.”
Does Carter just shut off his other half sometimes? Is he really just this oblivious?
“Right.” I let the night air speak for me as we walk down the street until it meets the edge of campus.
Carter nudges me with his shoulder lightly. “That smile of yours. Dangerous.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feign.
He laughs, the sound fills my ears warmly and mingles with the quiet melodies of crickets around us. “I mean come on. I’m lucky.”
I glance at him sideways, half-skeptical but my teeth dripping with intrigue. “Lucky?”
“Yeah. Just to have been able to meet you, is all.”
For a second, I forget all of the complexities that Carter seems so keen to erase. Everything falls quiet under his words, but even still I question him. I look ahead at the treeline dotted with campus buildings. We walk quietly past the baseball stadium, by some other dorms and then past a bunch of practice fields.
“Are you always like this?”
Carter tucks his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Like what?”
I like this little game we’re playing right now. Trying to rediscover one another. “A little impossible to read.”
He laughs more quietly this time, and his mouth quickly settles back into the faintest of frowns. “I don’t know. I’m still figuring that one out.”
I glance at him again, searching for the edge in his smile, waiting for it to light his eyes again, but it doesn’t. “What do you think I want to see?”
“Someone who means it,” he states. “Someone who’s not trying to play you.”
My throat burns a bit, as if I haven’t been gently manipulated by his fingers like a linchpin that holds his illusions of security tediously.
Carter leans off onto another set of pathways that are more obscured from roads, unlit. The grass on either side is overgrown and my ankles knock the dew off of each blade. It sticks to me instead.
He glances over, slowing pace and then stopping altogether.
“You think I’ve been playing you,” he says, not a question in his voice.
I don’t respond immediately, and he sighs. “Do you want me to say no?”
“No. I want you to say what you actually feel.”
“Okay. Well, I think you know exactly what you’re doing with me, with Reuben.”
Carter faces me fully. “And what do you think I’m doing?”
“I think,” I start slowly, “you’re trying to convince everyone that you’re a steady part of their lives, but you constantly take sides. Like, if you can keep playing that part in each person’s life, then you’re untouchable and automatically likeable, and you don’t have to deal with any sort of confrontation because of it, yeah? Maybe if you’re safe, no one has to see what’s underneath.”
“And what’s underneath?”
“Someone who knows what he wants but can’t get close enough ever to admit it.”
He looks away then, just briefly. The air carries the scent of rain not far off. Each time wind pushes through the grasses and trees, the blades rustle with more urgency.
Carter chews on his thoughts for a moment, but he doesn’t argue.
“I know you’re right. I never wanted it to happen to you.”
“I’ve known you well. I’ve gotten to know you over the last few weeks, and that’s already been a theme, Carter. You’ve pulled me in, thrown me out, literally, and swooped back around just to promise that you’ll change but I’m already worried you’ll push me out again.”
His shoulders fall. “Well. I didn’t think that this is how my grand campus tour with you would have panned,” he fakes a quick smile, eyes watery around the edges, but too dark to fully see.
“Not quite something you’d put on a postcard,” I agree. “You don’t need to have it all figured out, that’s not your job.”
He looks down and shifts his feet against the loose rock on the path. He looks back up to me but his head stays tilted downward, lips pink and chapped. “Can we start over?”
“I wish,” I sigh. The wind overtakes my breath and pushes my hair over my forehead. “From here?”
“We can try.” He smiles and I do too.
It doesn’t take long for his prep to return as we walk under the threat of the coolness of the occasional raindrop. Carter tells me about his favorite places to hang out, the places he never wants to go again, and shows me his old routines from building to building.
We move through the dark like he’s rediscovering each minute back in time with each step forward. Carter’s voice trails off every time he speaks, and he often falls behind me when we reach a new space. He points out a bench he used to sit on almost every day after class to read and just watch people move along each pathway. He shows me the step that he rolled his ankle on that still has the same chip in its surface. Each story acquaints me with the Carter I have wanted to see.
It’s begun to rain, but it’s polite. It feels nice, and it cools my face. “Is this the point where I ask you to show me your favorite spot?”
Carter glances at me while a smile forms on his face. He squints up at the sky as if to measure how much longer the rain will be kind. We veer off any path, the grass licking just above my socks again. We slink together across a lawn, then in between bushes. He leads me under a large tree with branches that weave through one another until they explode in a shield of leaves. He sits on an old swing covered in moss, and I sit beside him. There’s just enough of a hill to overlook a small piece of campus and a stretch of road to watch the occasional car hum by on.
I lean my head against his shoulder and just sit. His hand finds its way around my side and he runs his fingers along my forearm. We don’t say anything for a good while. The rain picks up against the leaves, but they hold. Carter shifts, allowing my weight to fall into him even further. He lifts my jaw gently with two fingers, his eyes flicker, narrowing just a bit as he leans into me and kisses me. His lips are cold but they warm quickly against mine. He rests his forehead against mine for a moment, his body almost shelling around mine. He lingers, then kisses me again, this time, more intimately. The first kiss was to test the waters, and the second to dive into me again. He grabs my face with more command and pushes his hands under my shirt. His muscles ripple and harden while he combs over my body.
He pulls away and slips his hoodie off of his head along with his shirt. He smiles at me and bites his lip, his pecs hanging low while he leans over me and pushes my back against the damp bench. He climbs over me and presses his hand into my neck. I gasp, eyes mesmerized by how his body moves and how each muscle flexes while he works over me. He looks around for a moment to make sure that he can continue his venture. He leans over me and secures his weight against the metal armrest of the bench while his other hand undoes the drawstring of my shorts. I wrap my legs around his back and pull him in, his bulge filling his shorts and pressing up against my stomach. Carter slides my shirt off and tosses it without care to the ground. He traces my bruised side gently, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment before turning his attention onto my neck. He puts his weight into me and begins to kiss it up to my ear, then down and around my Adam’s apple.
“You think someone’s gonna see?” I ask.
“I don’t care.” He bites my neck greedily. “I just want you.”
I look around as he slides my shorts off as he exposes me completely on the bench. My heart races, eyes scanning everywhere but Carter’s face while he stays lasered in on my body. He slides a finger between my legs and I shudder, his touch cold but soft. He grins at me and lifts my legs up to his shoulders, trying to balance himself against the back of the bench while leaning into me. He shimmies his shorts down his thighs and his dick springs out from the pressure of his waistband and slaps his stomach. He spits on his fingers and presses his ring finger inside of me gently, adjusting his weight and guiding himself overtop me. I whimper quietly, tightening instinctively around him.
“Relax,” he coos, continuing until his knuckles press against my taint. He pulls his finger out and tries another, but no amount of spit could slick his finger up enough.
“You’re tighter than I remember.”
I huff, lifting myself up a bit so he can see what he’s trying to get access to. He tries again, his face setting with focus and lips hanging open. A line of spit drips down from his lips right onto my hole, and he presses inside me again. I tighten up, but he steadies me by planting his strong hand firmly against my abs. He leans in, plunging another finger deep inside me despite my weak protests. I swallow to stop a moan from escaping my lips and his mouth tilts unevenly into a grin of pure lust. He pulls out and covers his dick generously in spit, taking some time to get it fully hard before trying to press inside me while I wait anxiously. He leans his weight down against my hole, drooling down onto his cock while his eyes glaze over like a mindless himbo. I can feel pressure building just above my hole, and I wince.
“Further down,” I mutter, “you’re too high.” He doesn’t listen.
I try to redirect his dick but it softens slightly and he pulls away again, his upper teeth holding his lip hostage. He nods and pushes his dick back into the same space, and I try to redirect him again. He smiles and finally hits the right spot. He slowly presses against my hole, and I try to relax. I feel his dick finally manage to enter me, and I gasp loudly. His hand shoots from my abdomen to my mouth to quiet me.
“Relax, boy,” he repeats. “Relax.”
He pushes all the way in me and lays his body on top of me while I struggle to accommodate him.
“Fuck, Carter.”
The rain drips generously down both of our bodies and slickens Carter’s dick enough for him to slide inside me, not without him having to essentially choke me out to keep me from moaning so loud that others who might be nearby hear. He slides to the hilt immediately, and I squirm, but his weight captures me and his hands flatten me back against the bench.
“Carter–” I huff, almost certainly too muffled for him to make out the specifics of my protest. The dim light of a distant lamppost glints off of his teeth and illuminates the wide outline of his eyes while he claims my body. My groans eventually pitter to quiet whimpers, but he somehow manages to make it feel like he’s going even deeper with each thrust.
Rainwater transfers itself from his lips to mine, from his nose to mine as he leans in and tilts ever so slightly to avoid pressing noses together. I wrap my arms around his muscular back, my fingernails trying to latch into any divot between his muscle fibers. He does the same, lacing his fingers against the nape of my neck and lifting me into the air until his body supports all of my weight. He bucks into me desperately and erratically, teeth covering his bottom lip and droplets of water and sweat wicking from his oily skin. My whimpers escalate operatically back into loud moans, and he tells me to shut the fuck up again. I try, but each stroke hits me just where I need it, and with his abdomen rubbing my balls ever so slightly, I feel like the friction is just barely enough that it might put me over the edge. His skin tantalizes mine, gliding smoothly over me, his abs catching my dick and guiding. He pants, desperately now, trying to go slow enough to stop himself from cumming, but failing spectacularly. His body hitches, back arching and creating a slight space for the coldness of the damp air to swirl between our bodies, before slamming himself back down and pushing all of his weight onto my chest. His teeth sink into my neck, my skin a muffle for his loud grunts as his seed coats my insides.
He lays on me, body shining with sweat and rain. I draw on his back, leaving trails in the droplets with the oil on my fingertips. He slides off of me slowly, down my torso until his hands cup my balls and suddenly I’m the one arching my back. He works me slowly, lips hovering above the tip of my cock and engulfing my head every so often, accompanied by gentle whimpers barely audible over the steady rain. He runs a finger along my taint, his seed lubricating it generously enough to slide in without any sort of resistance. He presses against my prostate, searching almost for that perfect contortion on my face.
He finds it, and my body tenses at first but then a wave of numbness and intensity rolls through my body and washes my thoughts out of my eyes. I gasp, Carter smiles. He grips my dick so tight it looks like the head might burst, but I don’t notice. I lose control of my body, my arms go limp and my mouth fails to hold in my moans any longer. He shoves his underwear between my teeth to keep me quiet. Out of nowhere, I’m dizzy. My fingers lace between the wood of the swing so I don’t roll off. My vision almost goes completely blank until I feel the warmth of my own cum contrasting with the cool rain now drenching.
Carter stands and puts on his underwear and dripping sweatpants but doesn’t bother with his shirt. My body finally returns to my control, and I sit up on the bench and slowly lean down to get my dirty underwear from the grass. I slide them on while Carter gathers my shirt and pants. He winks at me.
“I’ll have to take advantage of that feature again soon.”
I smile, still panting slightly. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
We walk through sheets of rain until we decide we’d rather duck into the wrestling facility until it lightens up a bit. Carter keeps his hands on me, fingers exploring my wet skin. I shiver each time, and he smirks, testing different pressures and spots to make me shiver again, and again– and again. He chuckles lightly as we wander around, shoes squeaking against the wood, the tile, until they’re dry enough to trip us.
Coach emerges from the hallway, eyes sharp until he sees us. “Boys going to give me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, man,” Carter chirps, “just escaping the rain.”
“Just you two?”
Carter nods. I nod too.
“Finn,” Coach says, offering a hand. “If it’s a meeting you as a friend of Carter’s kinda moment.”
I take his hand, but he twists me into his chest and squeezes my pec before letting me go. Carter bumps him on the shoulder and smiles. “Carter’s older brother,” he clarifies.
“So I’ve heard.”
Carter shoves his hands in his pockets like I’m meeting his entire family.
“I feel stupid for not having put that together with how similar you look.”
Finn nods, “well, we keep it professional. Relatively. Do you boys have anything going on?”
“Nah, no timetable,” Carter replies. “Imma go check the locker room for my hat. I think I left it here again.”
Finn nods and shifts his gaze, pinning me to the tiles I’m standing on as Carter wanders back into the maze of hallways. Finn tilts his head slightly. “Little wrecked?” he smirks.
The words don’t necessarily register in my head immediately, and I just nod.
Air churns through his throat into a guttural hum, smirk still there. It’s eerily similar to Carter’s, but Finn’s eyes crease more, and so does the skin around his thick lips. “Bet you’re sore.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty natural.”
“Your bruising does look better, though. Is your side still bothering you?”
I shake my head. “It’s tender when I put too much weight or pressure or when I move too fast or stuff like that, but it feels a lot better now.”
“Good.” Coach– Finn nods, crossing his arms. “I was worried a bit.”
“It was pretty gnarly, wasn’t it?”
“Dude I was worried about all the paperwork of having a kid land in the hospital,” he chuckles again, revealing the smile that just drips with Carter’s seductiveness.
“So, what else did you boys get up to?”
“I was hoping for a better tour but the rain kinda fucked that.”
Finn lifts an eyebrow playfully. “Tour, huh?” He rubs the thick auburn stubble on his chin. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
I let out a short laugh, trying to keep it casual while my heart flutters in front of Carter’s impostor. “Scenic walks are my favorite thing to do in the summer. Especially on the beach, but here– well there’s no beach and there is a fuck ton of nature I haven’t seen.”
A short breath escapes his lips before they seal. They pull apart audibly. “Mine are better.” Finn’s eyes rake over me, his long eyelashes creating a halo around his burnt green eyes. Finn finds the wall behind him and leans back into it, arms folding over his chest and making him even more imposing. “You sticking around the entire summer?”
I nod. “I hope so, but I wasn’t super sure what I was gonna do after the early summer training ends.”
“Lot of guys fade when the structure disappears, but I can work something up for you if you wanna keep working out. Some training sessions.”
I shrug. “Sure. Structure helps.” Duh.
“Would put you ahead. Physically and mentally. I’ve seen you work, and Carter’s told me about you. You got something in you, Cameron.”
I can’t tell if this is Coach or Finn. He pushes off the wall a little, not quite stepping closer but shifting enough that his presence sharpens. “If you wanted,” he traces the rubber tip of his shoe against the grout line in the tile. “I could create a personalized program for you. Check in once or twice a week until summer training ends, and then I train you.”
His voice doesn’t rise nor does it push. He’s still looking down at his shoes, but when his eyes finally rise, there’s a heat in his eyes. Carter returns with his hat, swinging it around his pointer finger. The energy in the room collapses, and Finn’s eyes soften.
“Catch you two later, then,” he says.
Carter claps a hand on my shoulder and leans into me slightly. I barely manage to nod before Carter turns me around and walks out with me.
Finn steps back, his gaze lingering just a moment longer on me before he walks back to his office. When Carter and I reach the door, we watch the rain and wind punish the trees outside. Carter sighs, and smiles.
“Thought it might have let up by now,” he remarks.
“Nothing else fun to do now.”
Carter chuckles softly. “Yeah. Maybe we should have checked the weather.” He shifts his weight, eyes flicking over to me. “We could dry our clothes.”
I glance down at my soaked sleeves, then back up to his face where a small smile tugs at the skin on his cheeks. “Sounds a lot better than freezing.”
We walk to Finn’s office, where he’s sprawled back with his shirt off. “We’re gonna do laundry– here,” Carter announces. “Shit’s still pouring outside.”
Finn looks up, eyes narrowed slightly. “I was curious whether or not you’d both be smart enough to put that together. Glad to see you did.”
Carter grins, peeling off his shirt and chucking it at Finn, who catches it with the snap of his arm.
Finn smirks while the shirt drips into his lap, holding it like a trophy before tossing it onto the ground in front of Carter’s feet. Finn stands and stretches, fluffing out the back of his mullet. I stare at his chest flexing and then salivate as they bounce back into place. I hadn’t seen him shirtless yet.
Carter snags his shirt in his pinky, eyes flickering over to Finn. “Guess we’re all airing it out today.” Finn catches my gaze, and his eyebrow tweaks slightly, but he redirects his attention to Carter as a grin forms on his face. I look away and then begin to slide my shirt off to look busy, but the saturated fabric sticks to my back muscles.
I struggle for a moment, then I begin to laugh. “Fucking–” I grunt. “Grrrr.”
Carter laughs, not offering a hand until I feel a set of hands sliding under the hem and saving me from my twisting mess. I tear the shirt over my head and open my eyes, expecting Carter, but it’s Finn whose chest is right in my face.
“You’re welcome,” he says, handing me my shirt.
I blink up at him, caught off guard by how close he is, and mesmerized again by possibly the prettiest pecs I’ve seen. If it were socially acceptable, I would just fucking squeeze them right there. He notices how my eyes linger, and he smiles again. It topples into a laugh, and I just laugh too, turning around back to Carter to walk to the laundry room. Finn follows.
We walk through a small back hallway for a bit until the scent of detergent fills the air. Carter files into the laundry room and shakes his shirt out. He steps out of his sweatpants, his wet underwear grabbing everything else. I step out of mine, too. Carter flings his stuff into the dryer. I do the same. The silver dryer hums to life as we stand in our underwear. Finn watches both of us.
“Glad you know how to use it,” Finn teases.
“Not exactly rocket science,” Carter replies, tossing a look over to me.
Finn smiles, arms crossing again. “Well, some people need lessons.” He splits his gaze between me and Carter, a tinge of challenge hiding in his tone. I shift on my feet and stand up fully, though still nearly a foot shorter than Finn.
Carter smirks. “Any other lessons you need taught?”
Finn’s eyebrows smoosh together, and then one raises. “Depends who the teacher thinks he is.”
“Someone who doesn’t mind demonstrating.”
The air tightens. I glance between them and step back and watch Carter size Finn up. There’s not much question of Finn’s authority, though.
Finn huffs a quiet laugh, head tilting down over Carter. “Then demonstrate.”
“Careful what you ask for, Coach.”
“Careful what you offer.”
“You think I bluff?”
“No,” Finn’s voice drops to a whisper. “I think you pick fights you can’t win.”
“I always finish.”
I’m still standing there, in my underwear sticking to every part of my body, pressed to the corner like the world’s most awkward referee while I watch two guys who I’d love to see naked together trade punches like it’s normal behavior.
Finn turns his head slightly, just enough to clock me with a sideways glance. “You picking a side, or just enjoying the view?”
My mouth falls open so slightly– no words– just heat crawling up my neck and in my underwear.
Carter grins. “He knows better than to get in the way.”
“Shame. I bet he moves well when he’s pressed.”
Carter’s smirk sharpens, and his eyes drop for a moment. I shift again, feeling the pressure radiating from the room. Carter finally moves, just a step, but halving the gap between him and Finn.
“He’s mine,” Carter broods, hands now pressing into the pillows of Finn’s chest.
Finn doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans in. Carter’s fingers curl slightly into his muscle. “That’s not a problem, little bro.”
The air tightens with a snap. My pulse stutters as I watch Carter’s jaw set, the muscles in his arm twitching with restraint.
“This isn’t your arena,” Carter mutters.
“I own this building.”
Carter’s laugh is low, and sharp. “Doesn’t mean you run a match.”
“I don’t have to run it. I get to decide when it ends.” Finn’s voice dips lower, and its raspiness ignites on Carter’s skin.
Carter’s fingers flex against Finn’s chest until the scale finally tips, and Carter shoves Finn back into the dryer. Finn hits the dryer with a dull thud, but he barely reacts until his eyes glint. He steps into Carter, inviting him to try again.
“You done?” Finn murmurs, “or do you want to humiliate yourself in front of your golden boy?”
Carter’s nostrils flare and along with his breath, his playfulness deflates from his eyes. I press my back into the cold wall, eyes tracking both of them. Then, Carter steps back.
“Thought so,” Finn simmers.
Finn pats my ass on the way out and my mind explodes into a series of what-ifs and ethical dilemmas that would almost certainly pervert my perverted intentions. Carter’s body moves faster than my eyes, and he streaks by me. One second, Finn’s hand is ghosting off my skin, and the next he’s crushed between the cinderblock wall and six foot, three inches of raw, coiled fury. I swear to God the impact made the lights in the hallway flicker. Finn grunts, but his expression stays solid, eyes locking with mine and claiming me even while pinned. Carter’s hands tear into Finn’s pecs, trying to leverage him enough to get him to the ground, but Finn is scarily solid.
Carter’s hands try to dismantle Finn’s posture, sliding against the sweat beginning to bead on his abs. Finn actually laughs– he laughs, directly in Carter’s face.
“Still watching, boy?” Finn glances at me. With that, he reorients himself. Carter’s advantage evaporates the moment Finn decides to take it from him. With an aggressive twist of his hips and a shift of his massive weight, Finn pivots off the wall and reverses their positions so fast I nearly gasp. Carter slams against the concrete with much more force, a sharp exhale forced from his sweaty lips, and Finn’s hand already on his throat.
Finn growls, eyes never leaving mine. “Still watching?”
Carter’s chest heaves, then his breaths become shallow as Finn’s fingers tighten enough to establish himself. It's malicious, but not intended to injure– it’s brotherly and controlling. They’re brothers, I remind myself. This happens all the time. I do this with my teammates and friends.
My feet finally come unstuck from the ground, and I wrap myself around Finn’s side. His thighs are as wide as my waist, and his biceps bigger than my head. I grab his forearm and try to loosen its predatory claim to Carter’s neck.
“Careful,” Finn warns. “Don’t want to ruin the fun.”
I hold my breath, feeling the heat sizzling off of Finn’s massive body. My hands tighten as much as they can against Finn’s forearm, and Carter’s eyes capture mine. He’s frustrated, desperate to win. Finn drops Carter, and Carter catches his breath.
“Finally got to touch,” Finn teases me. “Bet you’ve been begging for it.”
Finn begins to walk before I let go, and I pull the fabric of his pants down around his ankles and slip to my knees. He laughs.
“Well,” he turns around, the full spectacle of his slick body in front of me and Carter. “We gonna finish this on the mat, or not?”
Carter’s pride wouldn’t let him reject the offer. So he practically springs behind his brother and I follow. I can see the anger peeling into playfulness as Carter meets Finn’s step. I follow behind, admiring the way their asses move.
