Page 96 of Hey, Stepbro

Brock's gaze darkens.

Without warning, he slips his hand between my legs, causing me to gasp. His touch is electric, and my body reacts instantly.

"Are you trying to start something, Mr. Football Star?"

"Maybe I am, Mr. Bookworm. Is that a problem?"

"Absolutely not."

Feeling Brock's hand on my erection, I moan into his mouth. The sensation is both thrilling and dangerous, considering our dads are in the other room. I pull back from the kiss, placing a hand on his chest to create some space between us.

"Wait," I whisper breathlessly, trying to regain control over my racing heart. "Not here, okay? Let's save this for later."

"You're right. I couldn't help myself—you make me feel things I've never felt before."

"Same here."

We remain there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, lost in the connection we share.

"Let's finish our pancakes, yeah?" I suggest, gesturing towards the table where our plates still sit full of food.

"Sounds like a plan," he replies with a smile, reaching out to intertwine our fingers together.

When our plates are cleaned and the last remnants of whipped cream are licked from our lips, Brock and I stand up to help our dads with the dishes. As I carry a stack of plates to the sink, I appreciate the way Brock's muscles flex as he reaches for a dishcloth. My cock throbs, and I'm reminded of the intimate moment we shared earlier.

"Hey." Brock snaps me out of my daydream. "You okay?"

I try to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. "Yeah."

"I'll give you a better view later."

"Guys, seriously," Dad says, rolling his eyes. "We're right here."

"Sorry, Dad!" I reply sheepishly, focusing my attention on the task at hand.

CHAPTER30

BROCK

Istare at the computer screen, biting my lip as I debate with myself. Should I do it?

It's a contest to win a trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. For some rich assholes out there, a contest like this wouldn’t be a big deal. But for me and Blakely, it's a chance to get away together, only us two.

I try to pump myself up. My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating. I know Blakely would love this trip, and it'd be amazing to surprise him with it. But can I really put our story out there for others to read?

The entry requirement is to tell the organizers our coming out story.

"Fuck it." Humming a tune, I begin writing our story. There's something thrilling about sharing our journey—how we went from being stepbrothers to lovers. It's our own little secret, but now, we might have the chance to celebrate it under the Mexican sun.

Ever since Blakely entered my life, things have never been the same. As stepbrothers, we were supposed to be rivals, but instead, we found something more in each other. He helped me discover who I really was, and now, we're not mere stepbrothers—we're lovers.

I smile as I write, thinking back to all the moments that led us to where we are today. From late-night conversations to stolen kisses, every memory is a treasure.

Blakely's love and support gave me the courage to come out to my friends and team, and to truly accept myself. He's not only my stepbrother—he's my rock, my inspiration, and the love of my life.

As I type the final words, a proud warmth bubbles up inside me. Our story may not be conventional, but it's ours, and I wouldn't change a thing. With a sigh of contentment, I hit 'submit' and lean back in my chair.

"Mexico, here we come," I whisper to myself, already imagining the sun on our skin and the sand between our toes. And no matter what happens with this contest, I know that as long as I have Blakely by my side, everything will be just perfect.

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