Page 29 of My Irresistible Enemy

“And petty,” Brooklyn put in. “But as long as you’re not trying to date him, I think you’re probably fine.”

“Trust me, I’m not trying to date anybody on that show. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be around long enough. There’s no way I’m not going home after what happened on Monday.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Brooklyn said, looking back at his phone. “All of the reviews I’ve seen are talking about your confrontation with Nolan. And for the record, at least some people seem to think that he deserved it and needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

That, I supposed, I agreed with. The asshole hadn’t even let me apologize. But still, I could admit when I was in the wrong. To myself, at least.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t mind if Nolan had fucked up of his own accord,” I said. “But I don’t want it to be my fault.”

“But like you said, it’s good TV, right? And hey, maybe we could help you with your baking stuff in the meantime. What’s next week’s challenge?”

“We find out tomorrow,” I said. “Right after we find out who goes home. But technically, we’re not supposed to get outside help once we’re on the show. We can use books and the internet and stuff, but we can’t have people coach us.”

“Well, that sucks.”

Gabe laughed. “Yeah, but I guess it’s only fair to the other contestants whodon’thave their brother, and their brother’s super-hot husband, around to provide support.”

“Super-hot, huh?” Brooklyn grinned.

Gabe wiggled his eyebrows. “I call it like I see it.”

Something in my heart constricted when Brooklyn leaned over to kiss my brother. They were so cute together it actually hurt. And Gabe was right. Brooklyn was super-hot.

I understood why Gabe had fallen for him—and he hadn’t even hooked up with a guy before he met Brooklyn. I didn’t begrudge him his happiness. I didn’t.

I just hated when I got maudlin like this. I tried so hard not to want a relationship, not to want something so completely out of reach. I didn’t want someone else, or thelackof someone else, to be able to control my happiness.

I wasn’t the kind of guy people fell for. I was short, and not all that smart, and, let’s be honest, kind of annoying. I was cute, but that was really my only virtue. Every guy I’d ever hooked up with had realized that eventually and moved on.

I tried not to let it bother me. But ever since my brother and my best friend had both found these perfect guys, I couldn’t help feeling a little lonely.

So when I got home from dinner, I did what I always did when I was overwhelmed by unpleasant feelings: pushed them down and ignored them in favor of a quick dopamine hit instead.

I waved to Deacon, one of the annoyingly attractive owners of the Wisteria—another cute gay couple just rubbing their love in my face—and went up to my room, already planning out the video I was going to make.

Five minutes later, I was lying on my side, leg up in the air, sliding a black silicone dildo with a wickedly large head into my hole, recording it with my phone and streaming it live to my CamFans account.

“Fuck, Daddy, I wish this were your cock right now,” I moaned, biting my lip as I pulled the toy out, feeling my hole slowly stretch around the bulbous head. “If you weren’t away for work right now, I’d sneak into your workshop and tell you I had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep. You’d be annoyed at first, but when you saw how upset I was, you’d set down the fishing lure you were working on and pull me into a hug.”

I pulled the dildo all the way out, then squeezed my hole open and shut a few times for the camera. A little trickle of lube dripped down onto my thigh as I brought my hand to my cock.

“You’d feel how hard I was when you pressed your body to mine. You’d feel my lips on your neck, soft and wet and begging for comfort. You’d know it was wrong. I’m only eighteen, and you’re my stepdad. You’d try to stop yourself from feeling this way—but when I clutched your cock and asked you to make me feel warm again, you wouldn’t be able to say no.”

I grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some into my hands, slicking the toy up even more. I could see a steady stream of comments from my subscribers popping up on my screen, but my phone was just far enough away that I couldn’t make out the words. Some people were just sending long strings of heart or eggplant emojis, though, which was clear enough.

“You’d lay me down on the floor of your workshop and tell me you’d keep me safe. You’d brush my cock with your hand, tentatively at first, like you weren’t sure if I’d let you. But you’d feel the precum leaking from the tip, and you’d know I wanted this, too.”

I moved the dildo back between my legs and shifted, making sure the camera had a good angle for the insertion.

“And when you pulled my pajama pants down and slid your finger back to my tight little hole, it would slip inside, so wet and easily, already lubed up and loosened for you. You’d ask me if I was playing with myself again, remind me that you told me not to do that, and I’d want to lie and tell you that I’d been a good boy, but I wouldn’t be able to.”

I let my breath hitch, saying the next bit in a soft, needy voice.

“I’d tell you that I’d touched myself, and when you asked me what I thought about when I put my fingers inside myself, I’d confess that I thought about you. That I knew it was wicked, but I couldn’t help myself.That’s dangerous,you’d tell me.That’s how boys like you get hurt. We have to stop you from having these thoughts.And I’d tell you I was sorry, that I’d be a good boy, that I’d stop, but you’d say you couldn’t trust me anymore.”

I licked my lips as I put the tip of the dildo against my entrance.

“And then you’d spread my legs and bring your big cock right up to my hole. You’d tell me that this might hurt, but I needed to learn a lesson I wouldn’t forget. And you’d shove your cock in, hard and fast, all the way to the hilt, but it wouldn’t hurt me at all. I’d just want more.”

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