Page 62 of Peep

“I’m sorry for drugging you,” I eventually say when the silence is too deafening.

We pass a young couple bundled up in scarves and coats, walking their dog.

“What else?” Anders eventually asks.

“I’m sorry for fighting you and threatening to kill your brother, although he really does deserve it.”

Anders’ steps stutter, so I close the distance, placing a light hand on the small of his back. The second I apply pressure he sets off walking again.

“You’re missing the most important thing, Jay.”

Fuck when he calls me that, it does something to my chest like there’s extra pressure squeezing my heart.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Anders. The whole thing was a mess. We both lost our heads. But one thing I know for sure is I don’t regret getting my revenge.”

Anders swings around and shoves me. “You left!” Fire burns in his eyes, and his chest heaves as the first raindrops splatter around us. I’d think he controlled the weather if I didn’t know any better.

“You left me there, high as a kite and alone. I had no idea if you’d killed my brother, not that I care about that twat now, but at that moment, I was fucking terrified and alone.”

“I’m sorry, I should have stayed.”

Droplets of water trickle down his rosy cheeks. I can’t be sure if it’s rain or tears, probably both.

The flash of lightning and crackle of thunder force our eyes up towards the seething sky. Anders turns from me and starts lightly jogging down the hill until he darts into a small pub—I guess I’m going for a pint in my pyjamas.

I follow him in and watch as he darts into one of the empty side rooms with a pool table. I step inside of the room but can’t see him. As I move in further, it seems empty. The door slams behind me and I twist around to find Anders stalking towards me. My arse slams against the pool table as he lunges for me, damp lips smashing against my own, eliciting a surprised yelp from me.

Anders is kissing me.

After all this fuckery, he’s stillmine.

Anders

Anger and lust bubble inside me as I claim what’s mine once again. This is not how I imagined our reunion going. I planned on having a civilised chat, but arguing in the rain and desperate kisses seem pretty on brand for us.

I moan as Jahmar clamps down on my lower lip, trying to yield control. That’s not how we do things around here, and he fucking knows it.

Wrapping my fist in his curly hair, I yank his head back, making him whimper. Heavy eyes grill me as we pant in sync.

“Turn around, baby,” I murmur.

“Oh fuck, yes. I need you.”

I guide him around, slamming his front against the pool table, and then tug the coat from his shoulders. He helps me by shuffling out of it, and I fling it across the room, not caring where it lands.

I lean over him, massaging his arse cheeks through the flimsy bottoms. Nibbling on his earlobe, I taste his salty skin mixed with rainwater, and he quivers beneath me. I grind my pulsing cock against his bum while he rocks back against me, adding delicious friction.

“Please, Anders, I need to feel you.” God, he begs so sweetly.

Putting him out of his misery, I yank his pj’s down to his knees, and he gasps, probably loud enough to be heard in the quiet pub. The sudden realisation about where we are hits me, but I’ve never needed to reconnect with him so much. I want to wash away any doubts and prove to him that the fucked up thing my brother did doesn’t have to tarnish what we have.

“One second.”

Jahmar watches me over his shoulder with desperate eyes as I shove a chair under the handle to stop it from opening. Rushing back to him, I tap his ankle with the toe of my shoe, encouraging him to widen his stance. His trousers tangle around his ankles, but he stretches his legs apart as far as possible, leaving enough room for me to find his hole.

I pull one of his cheeks to the side and run my middle finger down his crack to find his pucker sticky with lube and loose.

“Who the fuck have you been playing with?” I growl, releasing my hold on his arse cheeks and watching them wobble.

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