Page 19 of Off Limits

Without another word, Dex left my doorway and headed into the bathroom. A moment later, the overhead fan came on, then the water.

His place wasn’t very soundproof. I’d have to remember that when he was home.

Not sure what to do with myself, I sat on the mattress with my back against the wall and tried not to think about how Dex was getting naked across the hall.

I still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to let me stay with him. I’d gone back and forth for weeks on whether I should ask and had waited until the eleventh hour, hoping I’d find an alternative.

He didn’t have to help me out. In fact, I’d been convinced he’d say no, but he hadn’t. I was grateful to him, but I still didn’t like him.

Dex was everything that I wasn’t, and the bastard didn’t even have to try. He’d been an All-American quarterback, graduated high school on the Dean’s List, and gotten a full-ride scholarship to Notre Dame.

If that wasn’t enough, he’d gotten his double major and was starting a doctoral program in the fall. He was also polite andpersonable and a master at networking and making small talk with strangers. People liked him, and they were drawn to him.

Of course, he’d been one of the most popular guys at our high school and every teacher’s pet. I spent four years being compared to him and four years being reminded that I’d never measure up.

The guy wasn’t even my real brother. He’d been a complete stranger until our parents announced their affair and Mom’s pregnancy when I was fourteen, but everyone acted like we were bio siblings and were shocked that we weren’t carbon copies of each other.

Whatever. High school was a long time ago, and other than living in the same city and sharing siblings, we were nobody to each other.

Dex would always be Dex, and I’d always be me. Most days I was fine with that, but I’d been feeling off since I’d seen him at Ruby’s party.

He’d looked incredible, of course, and he handled everyone’s praise and attention like the prodigal son he was. I’d spent almost two hours driving around picking things up for the party, only to be berated for not having the foresight to pick up tape. Dex showed up half an hour early, and they practically rolled out the red carpet for him and acted like he’d saved the day.

And it was petty, but seeing our siblings react with such jubilation to him hurt. I was the brother who’d stayed home. I was the one who’d been around for the past five years, reading them stories and patching up their scraped knees. Who took them on outings and to the park and watched movies with them, but Dex was the one they adored.

Thewhooshof water in the pipes stopped, and a few minutes later, the overhead fan turned off.

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. It was still early, but I was exhausted. I had to get up for work in the morning, and I knew that even with how tired I was, I wasn’t going to sleep well.

I didn’t like sleeping with my door open. Never had. And it always took me a few days to get used to a new environment. If I’d had friends when I was younger, I would have been the worst sleepover buddy because I would have spent the night tossing and turning and been a zombie the next day.

I should try to go to bed or at least lie down and listen to music so I could unwind. And the music should help drown out whatever noise Dex made before he went to bed.

The bathroom door opened, and I glanced up just as Dex darted into his room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his miles of golden skin and sculpted muscles on full display.

Awesome. Now I’d not only hear every time he came in or out of his room, but I would see it too. And if I could see him, then he could see me.

Huffing out a sigh, I yanked off my hoodie, then grabbed my earbuds and lay on the mattress.

Music should help, and if it didn’t, the noise-canceling earbuds definitely would.

6

DEX

Leaning back in my chair,I scanned the comments in my chat. Some were the usual lewd comments or demands to see my feet, most were requests for me to take the rest of my clothes off.

“I’ll get naked when I hit my goal,” I said to my audience, tossing them a cocky grin. I ran one hand down my bare chest, then slowly rubbed my palm over my cock, but didn’t make a move to pull down my sweats.

That set off another flurry of comments, but also a cascade of tips that pushed me over my “take off my pants” goal.

“You guys are eager tonight,” I commented. “Guess it’s time to get rid of these.” Hooking my thumb over the waistband of my sweats, I tugged them down a few inches to show off the top of my briefs.

“No, it’s not a jock,” I said when several people asked if I was wearing a jockstrap in the chat. “Do you guys want to see me in one?”

The chat went crazy with people saying yes, the same as it did whenever I brought up wearing one.

“Maybe I’ll do a special show next week,” I mused, pretending to mull the idea over as the chat blew up with comments.

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