Page 104 of The Bro Pact
“God, Ren.I’ve missed your lips.I’ve missed you.”
We continue to make out in my truck like a couple of desperate high schoolers with nowhere to go but their car. Ren grinds his erection into my stomach, and I groan, wanting more.
“Backseat,” I whisper, panting against his lips. “Let’s move this to the backseat.”
Ren slips off my lap and ungracefully flops over the center console, falling to the floor. He throws his head back, belting out a loud laugh before he crawls onto the bench seats, waiting for me with an intense and focused look in his eyes, despite the alcohol running through his veins.
I climb through without falling and settle on the seat next to him, staring at his mouth.
God, I want him.
His mouth is on mine again, devouring me with a sense of urgency that makes my toes curl. He slips his hands under my shirt, running smooth fingertips along the grooves of my abdominals before teasing my nipples.
I slip my shirt off, allowing him easier access to feel me up. My dick is so hard, it’s straining against my zipper, and I’m eager to get these jeans off next.
But before either of us can reach for my belt buckle, a loud knock on the window startles us apart.
I jump off him, knocking my head against the ceiling. “Shit.”
The glass is tinted, so I know whoever’s out there can’t see, but it still has my heart racing at the idea of being caught.
“Dude, it’s Nelson,” Ren hisses under his breath as I scramble to get my shirt on and crawl back up front.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Not my brother.
Ren joins me, slumping against the window and pretending to be asleep.
“Good idea,” I whisper, running my fingers through my hair a few times before I roll the window down.
“Hey, Nelson. What’s up?” I ask, and his eyes dart further into the truck cabin when a loud, fake snore tears from Ren’s throat.
I bite my lip, holding back the laughter.
“I was just coming to see where you two ran off to.” His nosey gaze darts back to me.
“Well, congrats. You found us. Now, goodnight. I need to get him home,” I say without question.
“I saw you throwing back shots in there. You can’t possibly think you’re driving.”
“So happy you care, brother, but no, of course I’m not driving. We’re waiting for our ride.” I hold my phone up, waggling it in front of his face.
Blue balls are starting to set in, and I’m getting cranky. I miss the RV, our freedom, and most of all, I realize how much I miss having our own space.
If we can’t find a place to be together or be comfortable in public, then what’s the point of trying to make this work?
Clearly, we aren’t meant to be.
“Our ride’s here, if you’ll excuse us, Nelson.” I shake Ren, and he pretends to startle awake.
My brother seems to finally take the hint and slinks back inside Rusty’s, once again leaving us alone.
Luckily, Ren’s too drunk to notice the fact that I’ve completely checked out and clammed up when we hop into our rideshare, prepared to act like we’re nothing more than two drunk bros ready to be dropped off at separate houses.
Because we don’t actually live together and probably never will.
The RV was a one-time anomaly.
