Page 22 of Fracture

And then yesterday, watching Dylan walk out of the water, his brown skin glistening in the sun, his face triumphant aftergiving Jared fucking Marshall a piece of his mind - he looked so fucking good, and since that moment all my desire and longing was too much. I needed to do something to tamp all those feelings down. So this morning, I went downtown and bought a car, then spent too much time trying to find a quick hook-up.

But for some dumb reason, I didn’t want a woman. I don’t want any woman, but her.

I clench my eyes shut. No, I can’t think about that either. Not my little sister. This is all messy enough as it is.

Instead, I surrender to fantasies of my best friend, his eyes that are so dark they’re almost black, the way his mouth curves into that crooked grin. His abs, the snake tattoos around his neck. I clench my molars as my balls draw up tight, imagining bracing my hand around Dylan’s neck, feeling him straining and moaning as I sink my cock into his ass.

Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with me?

The man’s mouth sucks me harder, and my head slams into the headrest as I moan loudly, my cock pumping hot jets of cum down the man’s throat. The man licks and sucks up every drop of me, and a sick feeling lands in my stomach. I run my hand over his head, but it’s wrong. I’m seeking out a stubbled head, a scar over the right ear, the warm steel of his piercings.

A stranger just sucked my cock, and all I can think of is my best friend, and wishing it was him instead.

I run a hand over my heated face, and the man sits up, regarding me with a grin.

“Who’s Dylan?” He asks.

My heart fucking leaps into my throat. “What?”

The man runs his fingers along his lips. “Dylan. You said that name when you came.”

“I - what?” That sick feeling increases. “I mean, he’s, he’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend, huh?” The man leans across and runs a finger along my jawline. “Listen, I get it. I see it all the time. Confused guys like you, experimenting with men like me.” He kisses my cheek gently, and I like the feel of his lips way too much. “Trust me, handsome, whoever this Dylan is, you’ve got it bad.”

“I’m not gay.” Saying it out loud makes me feel even more foolish.

The man laughs lightly, and opens the car door. “Sure, honey. Tell Dylan that.” He climbs out, closing the door behind him and disappears across the parking lot.

I sit with the heavy, sick feeling for a while, tucking my dick away and trying to get a handle on my breathing. Dylan is my best friend, and now my business partner. He’s also madly in love with my sister. I can’t come between that. I can’t ruin this for them both.

My phone buzzes in the dash, and I pick it up to see a message from Stella.

Next time you throw a party, maybe let me know first.

Shit, the party. I need to get back, right now. With a final deep breath, I gun the engine of my new bright blue Alfa Romeo, and head out of the parking lot into the fading evening light. I try to morph into some semblance of Responsible Adult. I have to present myself as the new boss to these guys, and the deep shame I feel over what I just did, and what I thought while I did it, just will not let me go.

Thankfully, in the fifteen minutes it takes me to cross town and pull into Stella’s driveway, I calm down. I put on the cocky grin, the well-rehearsed mask.I can do this.

Until I see Dylan hauling a keg over his shoulder. With no shirt on.

Three more deep breaths, and I force myself out of the car.

“Hey!” Dylan calls, heading across the drive into the garage. “Where were you?”

“Sorry, I had some errands to run and lost track of time.” I’m trying to be calm, but I’m sure there’s a neon fucking sign over my head sayingI just said your name while I ejaculated in another man’s mouth. More deep breaths. I follow him into the garage, where music plays softly over the speakers.

“Stella’s pissed,” Dylan tells me, placing the keg behind the bar. “I feel like we’re doing one thing wrong after another here.”

“She’ll be OK, it’s not like we’re 16 and the house is going to be trashed.”

Dylan laughs, flashing me a broad smile. “No, so responsible now, right?”

I swallow so hard I swear my Adam’s apple is going to bounce right out of my throat. “So responsible. Yeah.”

Dylan cocks an eyebrow, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I gesture to the driveway, desperate for a change of subject. “See the new car?”

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