Page 67 of Hey, Stepbro

When I steal another glance at Blakely, he’s animatedly discussing his favorite romance novel with someone across the table. I can see the excitement in his movements. I never knew I could fall so hard for someone who loves books as much as he does, but here I am, completely smitten.

I want nothing more than to be his boyfriend, to support him and share in his passions. Being part of this group, even if only for a brief moment, makes me realize how special he truly is. And as cheesy as it sounds, I've never felt more connected to him than I do right now.

Halfway through the meeting, Blakely's hand discreetly slides under the table and lands on my thigh.

I glance at him, wide-eyed.

But he remains engaged in a conversation about book-to-movie adaptations.

My blood heats as his fingers slowly trace circles on my leg, inching closer to the growing bulge in my pants.

"Have you guys readCall Me By Your Name? I love that one." Blakely never breaks eye contact with the person he's talking to. Yet his hand continues its journey upwards, unzipping my pants with calculated stealth. "And the movie kicks ass. Armie Hammer might be a cannibal, but he can eat my ass any day."

I try my best to maintain a normal expression, nodding along with the conversation happening around us.

But it's getting harder to focus as Blakely's fingers wrap around my erection, gently stroking me under the table.

"Actually, I think we should have a club-sponsored movie night for everyone to watch our favorite adaptations together," someone suggests enthusiastically.

The group agrees, and I manage a weak smile, praying my face isn't turning beet red.

Blakely's grip tightens slightly, and I have to bite my lip to suppress a moan.

His thumb glides over the sensitive head of my penis, sending shivers down my spine.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He knows exactly what he's doing, how to tease me enough to keep me on edge.

I'm losing it.

My breathing grows heavier, and I try to disguise it by clearing my throat and adjusting my position.

There's no denying the need flooding through me as Blakely picks up the pace, expertly bringing me closer to climax.

"Any other ideas for future events?" Waxley asks the group.

As people begin to share their thoughts, my orgasm builds, my muscles tensing in anticipation.

I close my eyes for a brief second, bracing myself for the inevitable release.

Finally, with one last expert stroke, Blakely pushes me over the edge.

I snarl back a growl, fighting like hell not to make a sound.

My body shudders as waves of pleasure crash through me.

I dig my nails into my palms, grounding myself in the pain.

"Great ideas, everyone. Let's wrap up this meeting and start planning our next one," Waxley announces, signaling the end of the session.

People begin filing out of the room, leaving Blakely and me behind.

"Hey, Brock," Blakely says softly, his eyes locked on mine. In a swift motion, he stands and pulls me into a passionate kiss. Our lips move together urgently, fueled by the intense desire we've been holding back.

"Blakely," I gasp when we break apart, "I didn't think it was possible, but I'm falling even deeper in love with you."

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