Page 72 of Hey, Stepbro

"Hey." I hope my voice doesn’t betray my inner desires. "Why don't you go take a shower? You stink, dude."

"Wow, thanks for the compliment." Brock rolls his eyes. But he knows I'm right and heads toward the bathroom without further complaint. As he disappears down the hallway, I let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the temporary reprieve from my forbidden fantasies. "I'll be quick."

The familiar sound of the shower starting up relieves me, and I imagine his toned body under the warm water, making me shiver with anticipation.

While waiting for him, my thoughts drift back to the teddy bear we left on Mom's headstone earlier today. It's a small, comforting gesture that makes me feel like I'm somehow protecting her spirit, even though she's not physically here anymore.

The soft toy seems like a guardian angel, watching over her grave and bringing warmth to her memory. And having Brock by my side during those moments only strengthens our bond, making me love him even more.

The shower turning off snaps me back to reality. My fingers twitch, knowing what comes next—Brock, fresh and clean, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

As he emerges from the bathroom, droplets of water glisten on his chest. His blue eyes lock onto mine, and it's as if he can read my deepest desires.

"Feeling better?" A teasing smile plays on his lips.

"Much. But you're still stinky."

"I just showered."

"Fine, you smell amazing."

"Thought so."

In one swift movement, Brock tosses his towel aside, leaving him completely exposed. My body churns with lust, and I can't resist the temptation any longer.

I throw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and press my lips against his. He kisses me back tenderly, and I feel my heart swell with happiness.

"Blakely," he whispers against my lips when we finally break apart, "you're my world. I was so distracted during practice thinking about coming home and fucking you senseless. Dominating you and filling you."

"Please do."

"Since you're better, I have a little surprise for you."

He reaches behind him and produces a pair of fuzzy blue handcuffs. They're the same shade as his eyes, and I let out a gasp of excitement.

"Wow. These are... perfect."

"Thought you'd like them." His grin widens, and he takes a step closer. "So, ready to play?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Put your hands behind your head."

I comply without hesitation, the thrill of submission coursing through me. As Brock secures the cuffs around my wrists, I realize that this is what I've always wanted—to be vulnerable and completely at the mercy of the man I love.

"Perfect," he murmurs, admiring his handiwork. "Now, let's see where these naughty thoughts take us."

"Can't wait to find out."

With a low, animalistic growl, Brock scoops me up in his strong arms and carries me to the kitchen table. He sets me down with surprising gentleness, considering the lustful fire burning in his eyes. My chest heaves with anticipation, my body practically trembling under his gaze.

"Stay right there," he orders, his voice husky with desire. I nod, unable to find my voice as I watch him circle the table, taking in every inch of my exposed body.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathes, reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline. "And all mine."

"Yours," I agree, a shiver running down my spine at his possessive tone. I can't believe this is happening—my wildest fantasies are finally coming true.

"Are you ready for this, stepbro?" Brock pauses in his movements to lock eyes with me. Hi orbs seem to bore into my very soul, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt.

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