Page 65 of Shattered

“Random question,” I interject, my voice softer now. “What was with the blinking you and Tray were doing earlier?” The curiosity strikes me, and I’m intrigued to learn more about their unspoken language.

Brayden laughs, a raw sound that resonates with shared memories. I catch him in my peripheral vision, shaking his head. “Tray came up with this system when we were kids,” he explains. “If we’re ever in danger, we communicate through blinks—itstuck with us, I guess.” He chuckles again, but there’s an edge to it. “It’s been a while since he used it.”

“So, three very obvious blinks mean . . . ?” I prompt, waiting for his answer.

“Blink three times to let me know you’re OK,” he says, his voice steady. “Blink twice to signal that you’re not, and I’ll go all out on whoever’s causing trouble. That’s our motto—the unspoken pact between brothers. Bex was a part of it too.” He grins once more, a mix of happiness and vulnerability.

“I like it,” I murmur. It warms my heart to know that Brayden has good people around him—people who will protect him when needed, even if it means breaking the rules.

As we pull up to my house, the anticipation crackles in the air. It’s nothing extravagant—a three-bedroom detached house in a humble neighborhood near the college. But Brayden’s wide-eyed gaze tells me it means it’s more than just a three-bedroom house.

“Wow,” he gasps, staring up at the house.

“It’s OK,” I reply, stepping out of the car. Brayden follows suit, tucking his hands into his blood-stained hoody. We walk up the driveway together. Once inside, he takes in the open space, eyes darting around.

“Bohdi, this is amazing.” His words hit me. To me, it’s any old house, but I’ve glimpsed where he grew up—the struggle, the sacrifices. This must feel significant to him.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I agree, not wanting him to feel overwhelmed. We step into the open-plan living room, the kitchen and dining area seamlessly connected.

“I’ll give you a tour in a bit,” I say, my voice low. “But first, can I go and shed this?” I gesture to my cape. “I feel weird.”

Brayden laughs, nodding. “You look hot, not weird,” he teases. Our eyes lock, and the intensity between us ignites.

“You think I look hot?” I challenge, tilting my head. I love when he blushes, but I also crave the fire in his eyes—the solid confidence that draws me in.

His voice, husky and intimate, he murmurs, “You always look hot.” I step closer, my fingers tracing the contours of his neck, sensing the rapid pulse beneath my touch.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, my lips brushing against his skin.

“No,” he denies, but his throat bobs with a gulp, and his pulse races, suggesting otherwise.

“I am,” I confess. His eyes widen, and I lean in, our lips almost touching.

“Why?” His hoarse voice sends shivers down my spine. The answer hangs unspoken between us, a promise of want.

“Brayden,” I whisper, my voice a raw confession. “The ache to possess you completely—it’s unbearable. And when my lips find yours, I won’t give in. Not tonight. Not ever.”

His eyes widen, flickering between mine, and then his mouth claims mine. A storm of hunger and heat. I cling to him, fingers digging into his hips, pulling him impossibly closer. His touch trails up my spine, igniting sparks along nerve endings.

“Brayden,” I rasp against his lips, surrendering to the intoxicating feel of his lips. “I need to know this is what you want.”

He breaks away, confusion etching lines on his face. “I crave you,” he rasps, lips mapping a path down my neck, leaving a trail of fire. “More than I’ve ever craved anything.” His whispered words are the spark that sets my restraint ablaze—a fire consuming every last vestige of self-control. Without hesitation, I guide Brayden toward my room, the air thick with anticipation. Once inside, I press him backward until the edge of the bed catches him, and he sinks onto the mattress.

His eyes—those hungry, primal orbs feast upon me. I raise the cape, revealing my skin, and his gaze traces over my inked chest.His breath hitches as his eyes move lower, my dick poking out the top of my boxers.

I drag my boxers down, noticing my hands are trembling. My nerves, electric, insistent pulse through me. Brayden rises, stripping out of his clothes and before I know it, we’re both standing in front of each, completely naked and rock hard, our breaths colliding in the charged space between us. I step closer, then our lips meet again. This time is slow, passionate. I put everything into this kiss. What’s about to happen? Everything that’s led up to this moment. It’s what I want, and I know it’s what Brayden wants. Brayden slowly pulls back and drops himself on to the bed, his dick standing up straight. I lean down, our lips meeting again, becoming more urgent. Our tongues tangle and the vibrations in my mouth from Brayden’s throaty groan send a shiver through me. I lower myself and when mine and Brayden’s dick touches, I turn into a feral beast. I rub myself against him with urgency as he claws at my back, pulling me close as possible.

“Fuck, Brayden.” I grunt.

“Bohdi, I haven’t.” His eyes stare wide up at me as I slow down, already feeling as if I’m about to come.

“You haven’t what?” I frown, wondering what he’s about to say.

“I haven’t bottomed before.” He exhales, and I instinctively lean away, my expression registering surprise.

“Oh,” escapes my lips, though I’m uncertain why, but I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve been watching gay porn the last week just to get an idea of how it works, and I have to say I don’t think I could take it in the ass. Not yet anyway.

“But, I want to. With you.” He chuckles as the words tumble out. “My first time, I mean.” My heart swells. He wants his first time to be with me and I’ve never felt this happy. A tidal wave of emotions rushes through me as my lips meet his one moretime, lazily lapping him up, wishing this night would never end. I want to take my time with him. I lean up on my knees, my dick standing to a sharp point which Brayden’s eyes immediately take notice of.

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