6. Emmett

CHAPTER SIX

emmett

Bennyand I have made a lot of mistakes in the past. So many I can’t even count them on two hands. So many that when Benny called our brother Asher for some money so he could get tested for dyscalculia but didn’t want to tell him what it was really for, Asher assumed it was for bail money and wired it across. No questions asked.

But this? This has the potential to be the biggest mistake yet.

Because even though Benny is no longer taking statistics, if Professor Brooks was to ever put two and two together, we’d be screwed, and I wouldn’t be the only Dalton twin who got kicked out of college.

Not that there should be a way to find out academically, but I’ve almost outed myself so many times tonight already. Like when I said he was a professor before he’d told me. I think I played it off, but who can be sure?

I shouldn’t want to stay. Protecting my brother has always been my number one priority, but since meeting Harrison and getting diagnosed with dyscalculia, Benny hasn’t exactly needed me. Other than to keep hidden so no one finds out there are two of us. This jeopardizes that, but at the same time, when is the last moment I got to have for myself? As me.

“Dalton?” Professor Brooks brings me out of my internalizing.

I smirk. “Brooks?”

My brain screams at me to leave while my body begs me to sit back on the couch. Or lie on it. With Ben’s statistics teacher on top of me.

“Want another beer?” he asks.

I didn’t finish the first one. “I don’t want to drink.”

“What do you want to do?”

Kiss him. Suck him. Be fucked by him.

I spent so long in his class trying to concentrate on the numbers and not how hot he is, but I can’t deny how many times my mind went there. Now’s my chance to make those fantasies a reality.

Before I can find the words, before I truly decide what I could do with him if I only have this one shot, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

I slump and pull it out to check it.

It’s Benny.

Clothes are back on, and the place doesn’t even smell like sex because we swallow. You’re welcome.

“Your brother?” Professor Brooks asks.

“Yep.” I pocket my phone. “Coast is clear to go home.”

“Ah. So you no longer need me, then.”

I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I don’t.” I hesitate to get this next part out. “But I still want you.”

His sheepish smile is fucking adorable. “You do?”

“Like I said, you’re a ten. An eleven when you’re all bashful and oblivious to how hot you are.”

“Then why are you still standing all the way over there?”

Because I know I shouldn’t do this. I don’t say that though. “Because I can still only give you one night.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Are you sure? I’m not going to wake up one day with you outside my window crying my name, am I?”

“Has that happened before, or are you building a highly unobtainable expectation for sex that I’ll be disappointed afterward and not want to do that?”

Goddamn, he makes me smile. “Who says we’re talking about sex? Maybe I want to stay for a cup of tea.” I like this game.

He steps closer to me, his five-o’clock shadow making him appear older than he is. If he’s fresh from his master’s and it’s his first year teaching, he’s twenty-fiveish give or take a year or two. He’s also taller than me, so when he steps into my space, he towers above me, and a shiver runs down my spine.

His lips quirk. “Were you talking about tea when you said you could only give me one night? Does tea have a limit on how often it can be sipped between friends?”

My gaze narrows. “Are we friends?” I ask teasingly. “I coach your nephew. You’re …”

“I’m what?” He moves even closer now.

I can’t walk out of here. Not when he’s within reach. “You’re my latest mistake in a whole slew of mistakes.” This time, I’m the one who takes a step forward.

As soon as I do, Professor Brooks’s hands go to my hips.

“I’m going to get that story out of you, you know. How you got kicked out of school.” His voice has taken on a raspy tone that I could melt into. Suddenly, I know what I want from Professor Brooks.

“Do you want to talk about that, or do you want to fuck me?”

“Don’t suppose you’ll tell me while I’m fucking you?”

I laugh. “You could try to drag it out of me, but I don’t like your chances. I’m not much of a talker during sex.” I slip my hand under his T-shirt and up his stomach. “I’m more of a moaner.”

Professor Brooks sucks in a shuddery breath.

“You think you can make me moan?” I taunt.

“I sure as hell am going to try.” No longer holding back, he surges forward, bringing his lips against mine, his rough stubble scraping my skin in delicious ways.

His tongue pushes into my mouth, and as much as I try to hold it back, he already makes me moan.

He pulls back. “That’s one.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate like before. He goes back to kissing me even harder.

He steals the breath from my lungs and drowns out the voice in the back of my head telling me this is risky. This is wrong. But considering the high I get from it, maybe there’s a reason my brother and I are known as the chaos twins.

We both thrive on it.

Even if I want to be a good person. Even if I’m the “sweet one” between Benny and me. It’s only because in comparison to him, I am. That doesn’t make me sweet.

In fact, this is pretty damn selfish of me.

But with his tongue in my mouth, his hands clawing at my clothes, I don’t care if this is wrong.

“Where are you going to fuck me, Professor Brooks?”

He growls, and it’s all dommy and hot. “Bedroom. Now.”

He grips my wrist hard and pulls me through to his bedroom. There’s one of those storage ottomans at the base of his bed, and he pushes me down so I’m sitting on it.

His rich brown eyes bore into me, alight with desire and something else I can’t quite pinpoint. Or can I?

“Do you like that fantasy? Want me to call you Professor Brooks while you fuck me?”

His eyes flutter closed.

“Want me to suck your cock and then beg for that A?”

“Damn,” he hisses. “That shouldn’t turn me on, and there’s a whole lot of conflicted feelings happening in my head, but⁠—”

“I’m not really a student. You’re not my professor.” Technically true, but I’m not going to think about that. “Live in the fantasy with me.”

“Get naked,” he orders.

Mm, bossy professor is hot. I almost want to resist so I can see how bossy he can get, but I’m too desperate for him to touch me. Kiss me. Turn me inside out.

I’m too desperate for him.

Because I’ve been relegated to pretending to be Ben for the last six months full-time, I haven’t been able to hook up. Sure, I could’ve gone somewhere far from campus to get off, but I haven’t had the motivation.

Maybe I should have forced myself to because it’s unhealthy how much I want this. Like, if he were to change his mind in this second, I would legit cry.

And so would my dick.

We both rush to get rid of our clothes, me wriggling out of mine where I sit while he strips in front of me.

He’s tall and lean with a smattering of chest hair on an otherwise smooth body. And it’s a fucking sexy body. He might be skinny, one of those people who are straight up and down except for his wide shoulders, but there’s something about a lanky person who’s more arms and legs than torso that seems to be my type.

Maybe it’s because of years in locker rooms with hockey players that I don’t see the appeal in the muscular “typically attractive” body.

Besides, I refuse to be with anyone who has a better butt than mine. Hockey butt for the win. If it weren’t for Benny deciding to quit hockey, I’d probably work hard to make my ass as bubbly as possible.

Now that I’m back on the ice, my body is no doubt going to tone up, and I’ll have to tell Benny something about that. Maybe I’ll drag him to the gym and tell him that’s how I’ve been filling my hours.

Or I could do what West said and tell Ben what I’m doing.

“Hey.” Professor Brooks cups my face, gently forcing my gaze to his. “You still okay to do this? You disappeared for a second.”

“More than okay. I spaced out from how hot you are.” I run my hand down his chest, and he stands straighter, putting his long and thin cock that matches the rest of him in front of me.

He smiles down at me. “I love the way you compliment me, but you really don’t have to. I’m a sure thing.”

Being humble and oblivious to his attractiveness is one thing, but not believing it is a whole other issue. One I know I won’t be able to solve with one night.

But I’m going to try.

“I’ll show you exactly how irresistible I find you.” I lick my lips and lean forward, my fingers wrapping around his cock the exact same moment my mouth does.

His hand grips the back of my hair, holding on to the manbun that’s barely holding together, and his hips thrust forward.

He tastes salty as a drop of precum hits my tongue, and I make it my mission to draw more out from him to flood my mouth with his flavor.

I bob my head and stroke him in tandem, and even though I’m bringing him pleasure, I can’t help the stir of neediness in my gut. Of my own personal satisfaction when his legs tremble and his knees threaten to buckle.

Even blowing him draws out another moan from me, but the second the sound comes from the back of my throat, Professor Brooks pulls out of my mouth.

“That’s two.” He pushes me down so I’m lying on my back, but I’m still half on the ottoman, my legs hanging off the edge and the top half of me on the mattress.

Professor Brooks sinks to his knees and lifts my legs so they rest over his shoulders. He licks his fingers. “Let’s see if I can make it three.”

He doesn’t even need to try that hard. All it takes is for him to swallow my cock and press a wet finger against my hole.

He lifts his head and lets out a small chuckle, his breath still close enough to ghost along my aching shaft.

“I can’t help it,” I say.

“I’m not complaining. You really know how to give a guy an ego boost.”

“Maybe I really want that A.” I wink.

Professor Brooks pushes a single digit inside my hole. “You going to let me in here and show me how much you want it?”

God damn, if the real thing isn’t even better than I imagined while sitting in his class doing Benny’s work.

“I don’t want it. I need it,” I breathe.

“I’ll be right back.”

I whimper as he stands.

“Don’t move.” He goes to his bedside table, taking out supplies.

And after the eternity that is five whole seconds, he’s back to where he was, only this time, his fingers are lubed up properly, and he’s not in the mood for teasing.

With his mouth on my cock and his fingers working their way inside my ass, I’m so close to coming it’s not even funny. But I’m not ready to come yet. I don’t want to unleash until his cock is inside me, pounding my prostate.

I think about unhappy things. Unexciting things. Like how much trouble I’ll be in when my older brothers find out not only have I been kicked out of college but that I have absolutely no plan on going back. I think about telling Benny that I want to coach hockey or play hockey or have a career in the sport he hates.

He’s becoming a sports journalist to fix the industry. I want back in as it is. Toxicity and all. Sure, I could do without all that, but for me, my love for the game outweighs all the bullshit that surrounds it.

Benny will be okay with it eventually, but maybe the real problem I’m ignoring when it comes to telling him is coaches travel. AHL players get paid next to nothing and are never home. We would have to live apart.

That’s the real reason I don’t want to tell Benny what I want to do with my life. That’s why I’m avoiding it all, including telling the truth about that fire at San Diego State.

I never set it.

My roommate did.

But he was on scholarship, he actually liked school, and while we weren’t close, I took it as my opportunity to get out of a situation I didn’t like. I took the fall so I had an excuse to quit.

Now that I’ve managed to depress myself so much that my hard-on begins to flag, I lift my head and stare down at Professor Brooks, his head between my legs, his soft lips around my cock, and all my problems are instantly forgotten.

His fingers brush over my prostate, and I let out another moan. This time, he doesn’t stop to add it to his count, just starts moving his fingers in and out faster while sucking on my cock like a lollipop.

“Fuck,” I let out on a stilted breath. “If you keep going, I’m going to come.”

He pulls off my cock but keeps his fingers inside me. “You ready for it?”

“Yes. Give it to me.”

“Roll over.”

I go to get on my hands and knees, but he pushes me down on my stomach.

“Just like that,” he whispers.

My hands ball into fists on top of his comforter, my head turned to the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him dealing with the condom.

“You going to come hands-free for me?”

I smile. “You’re determined to make me moan again, aren’t you?”

He lowers his body onto mine. With the way the ottoman is a smidge lower than the mattress and my legs spread apart a tiny bit, his cock rests along my crack.

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “I’m going to count every …” He kisses my neck. “Single.” Kisses my shoulder blade. “Sound.”

“Hope you’re good at math,” I taunt.

“You have no idea.”

Actually, I kinda do.