15. Brayden

I'm totally fucked. This is not good. I felt like my heart was going to explode when I saw him crash into that wall. Fear like I've never felt coursed through me in that moment, and I saw red.

I yanked Tony out of that car and was in his face so fast, he didn't see it coming. He was shocked when the first blow struck him in the cheek, and I wasn't surprised when his punch hit my stomach. I hit him again before we were pulled apart, but in that moment, I wanted to kill him.

I want to say I'd have done that for anyone, but I'm not so sure. I also want to say it's because I've been fucking Carson for a couple of weeks now and I've gotten used to having that, but I don't think that's it either.

I've never felt like this before, and it's terrifying.

I move inside him, taking my time, making sure the angle is just right and I'm pressing against his prostate. He's naked under me, and I can see the bruises starting to form. Each one pisses me off and makes me thrust into him harder, owning him. I want to climb inside him and never leave.

I don't know what's happening.

"Harder," he groans, stroking his cock as his back arches. All his muscles are strained tight, and I drag one hand over his pecs and down his stomach. He's fucking perfect. Absolute perfection. All wiry muscles and firm masculinity.

I can't get enough of him.

My other hand is braced by his head, and he reaches his free hand up to grasp mine, interlocking our fingers. I thrust into him harder and harder, hitting his sweet spot and making precum leak from his slit.

"You look so goddamn hot like this," he says breathlessly.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I say and plunge into him, making my body go taut with need. "Tell me you're close."

"So close." I hear the wet squelch of his hand working his cock, and I bat it away, taking over and stroking him hard and firm. "Yes," he breathes, his body going rigid. "Fuck yes." He comes all over my hand, and I stroke him faster as I move in and out of him, chasing my own orgasm.

When it hits, my vision blurs, and I let go of his cock, locking my fingers with his on his other hand. Our hands remain clasped together next to his head as I finish inside him, cursing the condom. I want to come deep inside him, to leave part of me behind every single time.

My cock twitches with need, wanting that more than I ever thought I would. When I'm spent, I gently pull out of him and roll to my back at his side, not bothering with the condom just yet.

"We should get tested."

"What?" he asks, still panting and rolling to his side to look at me. I don't miss the wince he makes when he puts his weight on his ribs.

I shrug, trying to remain calm. I can't believe I blurted that out. "I mean, it's no big deal."

"You want to fuck me bare?" He's grinning too wide.

I roll to my side and eye him. "Maybe."

He laughs, way too damn happy with himself. "Just say it."

Damn him, always pushing my buttons. "Yeah. I'd love to come deep inside you." I lean in and grasp his chin between my fingers and thumb. "And when the cum tries to escape, I want to push it back inside you where it belongs."

He shivers, his voice trembling when he speaks. "Oh, okay."

I grin, having the upper hand now, and kiss his lips hard again before releasing him and urging him to his back. I kiss his neck softly before I lay my head over his heart, grateful it's beating.

"Will you tell me about your friend?"

My entire body goes still, not expecting that question. "What?" I barely croak out.

His hand smooths over my hair, and he doesn't seem startled by my surprise. "Your friend. Miles Tanner's son."

"Jeff," I say, my voice cracking a little.

"Jeff," he says quietly.

"He was a little older than me. About two years. We met in school. He was a cocky shithead. Always talking about his dad and how he was the owner of a huge racing team. No one really believed him. We knew he didn't have much more than us, and he lived with his mom in our small town." He seems to be listening as I recount my time with Jeff. "His last name was Rock. Not Tanner. But when he graduated, he told me he was going to find his dad and was going to race."

"Was Miles really his dad?"

I nod, still letting my head rest on his chest. Needing to feel his heart. "He was. Apparently, Miles wasn't too happy that Jeff just showed up, but he gave him a chance. Jeff had natural talent, and Miles, being the asshole he was, was happy to claim him then. He added him to his team."

"And then you?"

"After a few years, yeah. I hung out with them over the summers. I had to prove myself, but I did eventually and was added to the team." I swallow hard, thinking about Jeff and that day. That horrible fucking day. It was my third race." I can feel him tense under me, probably sensing what's coming. "Freak accident. Four cars hit the wall. Everyone else was fine."

"But not Jeff." It's not a question, but I answer anyway.

"No. There was a safety equipment malfunction. One in a million chance, they said. But that didn't really matter because he was dead." Odds don't comfort you when you lose a friend that way.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, his hand still stroking my hair. I have to admit it feels nice.

We're quiet for a while, just lying there in bed, my thoughts on that day—and today, when I saw Carson go into the wall. A cold washes over me.

"Were you in love with him?"

I look up at him, lifting my head, shocked by the question. "What? No."

"You sure?" he asks, and I swear there's a hint of jealousy on his face now. A little defiance as he eyes me. "I mean... it would make sense."

"We fooled around a couple of times," I admit, and I swear he pouts. It's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen.

"Oh."

I shake my head and grasp his chin again as we both sit up. I kiss his full lips and laugh. "We really were just friends. It was just convenient. He was gay but not out. I was bi and not really out either. Had no experience with guys, but..."

"But what?" He looks hopeful.

"There weren't any feelings there." The moment hangs heavy between us. There are words we aren't saying.

Words I'm terrified to say.

I think he must be too because instead of rubbing it in my face or being a cocky little shithead, he just rests his head on my shoulder. "How about we order something to eat and watch mindless TV?"

I smile and nod. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan. And after, a bath."

I can feel him smile. "Only if you join me."

"As if that wasn't part of the plan," I deadpan, and again, I feel him smile.

Yeah, I may be in trouble here.