18. Travis

EIGHTEEN

IF CALEB'S MOOD was any indication, he didn't get the happy ending he was hoping for last night.

Waking up to slamming cabinet doors had been fun, but before I could tell him to simmer down, he'd already left for Astor.

If anyone should be pissy, it should be me, considering I'd had to get off in my hand and not a hot body. It wasn't the outcome I preferred, but at least alone I was able to picture who I wanted when my orgasm spiked—didn't have to fake it or wish I'd been deep inside someone else.

Had Caleb pictured my face when he came last night? Was that why he was giving Daire a run for his money in the scowling department?

Hell, I'd done him a favor. A simple thank you would've sufficed.

As I waited for the elevator doors to close after a long school day, I heard a familiar voice say, "Hold the door."

As I stuck my foot out to block the sensor, Caleb slipped inside, his bag falling off his shoulder. When he looked up and realized it was me he'd be sharing the confined space with, his face fell.

Not exactly a look that made me all warm and fuzzy.

I moved my booted foot from the door, letting them fall closed, and the air immediately grew thick with tension.

"You don't look happy to see me," I said, leaning back casually against the wall. He looked wound too tight, his back stiff, his jaw clenched. "I thought I'd be the reason you'd be feeling pretty damn good today."

He looked everywhere but at me.

"No need to be embarrassed?—"

"I'm not."

"You sure about that?" I leaned to the right to get in his sightline, but he dropped his chin, clearly in avoidance mode. "Did you not have a good time last night?"

"None of your business."

"Isn't it?" No scratch marks on his arms from the wicked nails Bronwyn sported. No hickeys on the smooth skin of his neck. His full lips didn't look any more swollen than usual. Any of those things would've been evidence of a fun night between the sheets."So, how was she? I didn't hear any ‘Oh Caleb' last night, but maybe she's more the silent type. She did look a little…sweet."

Caleb pinned me with a glacial stare.

I grinned. "What? I'm not allowed to ask?"

The elevator doors opened, and Caleb shot out of them like his ass was on fire. Chuckling, I sauntered into the hall after him.

"You know, you're not acting like someone who had hot sex last night."

He stopped in front of our condo, reaching into his pockets for his key card and coming up short. "Shit."

"Let me." I moved in beside him, brushing up against his arm as I scanned my card. The second it unlocked, he burst through the door. The speed at which he was trying to get away from me was amusing, if not a little insulting. "Damn, you got another hot date tonight?"

"Leave it, Travis," he said, dropping his bag on the floor and heading to the kitchen, where he pulled the fridge open and grabbed a beer.

Whatever was bothering him, it was clear he had a solution—drink his problems away. I could get on board with that. I was a master at drowning my sorrows in a bottle. But those horrible beers were not going to get the job done.

I tossed my bag on one of the barstools and eyed the colorful label on the bottle he had a death grip on.

"If you want to get drunk, you're going to need more than the four of those you have in there."

"Who said I want to get drunk?"

"You usually head straight for a beer after school?"

Caleb eyed me across the kitchen counter. "I was thirsty."

"I mean, if you want to drink, go for it. But let me make you something better than that." I rounded the end of the counter and as I moved into his space, Caleb sidestepped me.

"I don't need you to do anything for me, thanks."

Surly Caleb was in the house, and he was barely keeping a lid on his temper. Interesting that he was even trying—usually he'd tell me to fuck off and be done with it. But for some reason he was avoiding the confrontation he so desperately wanted to have.

That wasn't going to work for me. Something was happening here. Something I'd been waiting years for, and I'd be damned if I let him slam the door shut right after I'd kicked it open.

I leaned back on the counter and eyed him where he stood as rigid as one of the King's Guard.

"So, uh, what's going on with you today?"

Caleb glared at me and brought the beer to his lips, taking a long gulp.

"Do you want me to guess?" When that still didn't get a response, I added, "Because I have to warn you, some of my guesses might piss you off."

Caleb's eyes narrowed a fraction, and he downed the rest of his beer. Then he put the bottle down and went to leave the kitchen.

I called out, "What happened? Your cock not as good at faking it as your brain is?"

It was a low blow, I knew. But it was the only way I knew I'd get a reaction—and boy did I.

Caleb whirled around, his jaw clenched almost as tight as his fists as he stormed back over to the counter. "You know what? Fuck you."

A thrill of victory skated up my spine at the flames I caught flickering in his eyes, and my cock jerked. He looked like he wanted to incinerate me right there on the spot, and I wasn't sure what it said about me that I was turned on by that.

I moved to the other side of the counter. "I mean, if that's what you want."

Caleb's mouth fell open, and I couldn't help my smirk.

"What? Would you rather receive? 'Cause I'm open to that too." When he just stood there, I walked around the end of the counter and stopped by his side. "Maybe that's the problem. She couldn't give you what you wanted."

Caleb turned his head until our faces were only inches apart. "I don't have a problem."

"Hmm," I sucked my lower lip behind my teeth and when his eyes lowered to the move, I took a step back. "See, I think you're wrong."

"Oh really? Because you're so fucking wise."

"About this, I am."

Caleb tracked me as I walked backward to the living room. "And what exactly is this?"

When I reached the couch, I undid the button of my pants, eyes locked with his. "Sex."

Caleb scoffed but stayed focused on me, seemingly unable to look away."Of course it is. Everything with you leads back to sex."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

He shook his head, but didn't make a move to leave.

"It's really not a big deal," I said, reaching up to unbutton my shirt. "We all do it. We all wanna feel good." I let the shirt fall off my shoulders and onto the floor. "Don't you want me to make you feel good, Caleb? You know I will."

"That's not gonna happen."

"It should."

"It won't."

Wanting to keep his attention, I lowered my zipper and backed up until my legs hit the edge of the leather cushion. "I know you like to watch. Maybe this will…inspire you."

Caleb glanced in the direction of his room, like he was thinking about making a run for it, but then he looked back at me. I'd slipped my hand inside the confines of my boxer briefs and gave myself a rough stroke before freeing my cock.

His lips parted and he sucked in a breath. Had he thought I was just teasing? That I didn't really want this?

"When did you…" He swallowed, his eyes caught on my dick. "You didn't have that…"

"Last time?" I slid my fist down to the plump head and fingered the Prince Albert piercing. "No, I didn't. Want to try it out?"

"Travis."

"It's okay to be curious. Just be curious with me."

"I'm not?—"

"Your body gives you away." I nodded at the outline of his cock rising to the occasion and felt a supreme sense of satisfaction that I had that effect on him.

"I don't want it to."

"Why? Because I'm a guy?"

"Because you're my stepbrother."

That was the admission I'd been waiting for, the one I never thought he'd actually say out loud.

I resumed the slow slide of my fist along my growing erection, not letting that deter me."We are in name. Not by blood."

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah. It does. Especially if that's what's stopping you from taking what you want."

Caleb let out a long exhale as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Like you know anything about what I want."

I knew a little something about that. If it was anything like the hunger I felt just thinking about him, he had to be going out of his mind with need.

"You want me," I said. "And you can have me. I'm giving you the permission you won't give yourself."

A pained look crossed his face.

"Tell you what." I pushed my pants and briefs down my hips a little and sat on the chair. "I'll stay right here. I won't touch you unless you ask me to."

When Caleb didn't make a move to leave, I pressed a little further.

"Do me a favor and take your shirt off."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're fucking gorgeous and you make my dick hard, that's why."

I couldn't believe I was still able to surprise him after all this time, but he seemed to be at least considering my request.

Hell, I would've settled for him watching me, but getting him to take his clothes off was a serious perk.

He toyed with the edge of his shirt, and I sank back into the chair, spitting into my hand to lube myself.

"Just the shirt?"

My dick lurched in my hand at the question, and when I nodded, Caleb pulled it up and over his head. He was about to drop it on the floor when I gestured for it.

"Give it here."

Caleb looked at the shirt, then back to me. "Why?"

Yeah, you dirty slutbag, why?

"Don't want to make a mess on the couch." It was a bullshit answer. But I wasn't going to confess to wanting to smell him and rub something of his all over me. This was practical, and hopefully he was too far gone to think about it.

Caleb frowned but, bless his confused heart, tossed it at me. "You get it dirty, you wash it."

Or sleep with it under my pillow for the rest of my life. "Deal."

I gripped the material in one hand as I continued to pump my dick nice and slow, feasting on the body I'd fantasized about more than I could possibly remember as Caleb stood in front of me topless. He was more built than I remembered, the muscles of his chest more defined but still not bulky. His skin was smooth, with a light dusting of hair that darkened in a teasing trail from his navel down into his jeans.

"Damn, Caleb."

"What?" He was so fucking oblivious when it came to his appeal. He could have anyone he wanted—I should know, I'd watched them throw themselves at him for years—but he just stayed under the radar. The quiet, good guy with the heart of gold.

But it was time to see if I could make the quiet guy get a little loud.

"That was a compliment." I licked my lips. "I'm not the only one who's changed since that night."

"I don't look any different."

"You look fucking ripped. I want to run my tongue over your abs."

Caleb's eyes widened, and I chuckled.

"Don't worry. I'll keep my tongue to myself for now."

Caleb reached down and ran the heel of his palm down his agitated cock.

"But tell me, did you like it when I put it in your mouth?"

"Jesus, Travis."

"That's not an answer."

He took in a deep breath. "I didn't hate it."

"Now we're getting somewhere." And if he kept looking at me like that, we'd get there really fucking quick. "Do you want to do it again?"

"I'm not answering that."

"So yes."

"I said I wasn't answering that."

"Okay, fine. When did you start thinking about this again?"

"This?"

I tightened my fingers around my cock. "You really want me to say it? Because I will."

"No, I—" Caleb sat in the clubman chair behind him. "The night you brought Crop Top—Kirby home."

So that night hadn't just been frustrating for me. Good to know.

"Want to know a secret?"

Caleb rubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath. "Probably not."

"I didn't fuck him."

Suspicion clouded Caleb's eyes, but also a hint of satisfaction. "Why not?"

I squeezed myself a little harder at his question. "Because he wasn't the one I wanted. Kind of like Bronwyn wasn't the one you wanted."

Caleb looked down at my pumping fist, shaking his head. "You shouldn't say things like that. This is?—"

"Exactly the way it's meant to be. You, me, it's always been us."

"Always fighting…"

"Just another kind of heat, that's all." I brushed my thumb over the sticky head of my dick. "You know that."

Caleb shifted in his seat, dipping his hand between his legs to adjust himself, but it was no use. His dick was as hard as mine, and probably causing a mess inside his jeans. But was it my fault he was stubborn?

"You know, a good way to find out if your dick is broken is to use it." I eyed the hand between his legs, and he brought it up to flip me off."I'm serious. Feel free to unzip and check it's all working if you like."

"And give you a free show in the process?"

"You give me one, and I'll give you one."

"You're already giving me one."

I'd give him even more if he said the words, but I had a feeling this was as far as he was willing to go. He was still busy trying to wrap his head around the fact he was turned on by a guy sitting across from him and jacking off.

His eyes on me was enough to keep my dick hard, though. Hell, the fantasy of that was enough. But having the reality staring at the way I was fingering my piercing and pumping my dick through my fist was making any kind of restraint close to impossible.

"You could always leave if you don't like it."

Caleb raised his gaze, and his blown pupils confirmed that he liked what I was doing. So I kept going.

I leaned my head back on the couch and started to really work myself, rough strokes from base to tip, using my pre-cum as lube.

Caleb moved in his chair, sliding a little further down it and spreading his legs wide, apparently happy for the talking to be done—or maybe just happy that I'd stopped asking the hard questions.

Either way, the only sounds in the room now were his breathing matching pace with mine and the slip and slide of my hand up and down my cock.

I gripped the shirt he'd tossed me a little harder, jealous it had been touching his bare skin earlier. When I brought it up under my nose and inhaled, Caleb sucked in a breath.

Now you get it. If I can't touch you, I'm going to get as close to you as I can the only way I can.

I took in another deep breath, drawing in the scent of his soap and cologne, and my balls began to tingle.

It'd always been like this with Caleb. A look, a slight touch, the smell of his soap, and I was ready to go. It was one of the reasons I hadn't allowed myself to be around him after that horrible night—I didn't trust myself, and I knew he wasn't interested.

But now…

His eyes were hooded as they took in my overtly sexual display. But there was no anger there anymore. His full lips were slightly parted and slick where he'd worried them with his tongue.

I wanted them slick with the pre-cum dripping down my hand.

God, I'd fucking pay for that privilege, to see him down on his knees with my dick sliding in and out of his mouth. Or between my legs with his head buried over my cock. I'd start slow, run my fingers through all of that thick brown hair and hold him in place as I thrust in and out of his mouth.

"Fuck." The curse ripped out of me unexpectedly. "Lick your lips for me."

I could see the question forming in his mind, but instead of asking it, he licked his bottom lip, as requested.

My hips snapped up as I imagined him swiping that tongue over my cock. I pictured him opening wide and letting me slide in.

"You're imagining fucking my mouth right now, aren't you?"

"Yes…" My chest rose and fell as I pumped even harder. "And I'm imagining you letting me."

"Travis…"

"You wouldn't be able to talk," I said. "Just groan. I'd grip your hair and hold you still as I make you taste me."

"Jesus." Caleb began to stroke over the denim strangling his dick.

"I'd want to come in your mouth, or maybe all down your chest. Then when you put this back on"—I brought his shirt down to my flushed cock and stroked—"you'd also smell like me."

I began to fuck into his shirt, the ideas I'd just voiced running rampant in my head as I looked at the object of my desire sitting only feet away from me, now rubbing himself.

Then he said, "I love how you smell."

And that was it.

My balls tightened and my toes curled as Caleb's name tore from my lips. Then I exploded in a fierce rush, spraying cum all over his shirt as I pumped every last drop of myself onto the soft fabric.

It was one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had, and that I'd had it in front of Caleb was no surprise. After all, he'd been the star in every one of my sexual fantasies since we met.

When my breathing calmed, I glanced across and noticed a wet spot in the jeans he'd refused to take off. I couldn't help my smirk as I raised my eyes to his, happy to report back to him, "I guess it's not broken after all."