Addicted To My Hockey Stepbrother

He was hard against me. I could feel every inch of him through his jeans and I pressed into it – shameless, desperate, grinding back against him while his hand covered my mouth and his thumb brushed my nipple and the bookshelf behind me creaked ominously. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You keep moving like that and…

I moved my leg. His hand followed. Settled. Stayed. “Rhys, how are you finding Thornfield?” Mom asked, pouring syrup with the careful attention of a woman who wanted everything to be perfect. “Making friends? Settling in?” “It’s been an adjustment.” His voice was easy. Warm, even – a version of himself I rarely saw, pulled…

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I just think you deserve to know who you’re spending time with.” The worst part wasn’t the words. The worst part was the expression on his face – gentle, worried, the perfect performance of a man who cared. And somewhere underneath the manipulation, buried so deep even…

He looked like he hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours. Grey circles under those grey eyes. Hair unwashed. Same shirt I’d seen him in three days ago, wrinkled now, like he’d been sleeping in it. Or not sleeping. The apartment behind him was dark. I opened my mouth to say we’re done. “I hit a guy…

“Rhys – I need-“ “I know what you need.” He slid two fingers inside me while his tongue kept working my clit. Slow. Deep. Curling against the spot that made my legs clamp around his head. He groaned against me – the vibration radiating through my core – and I realized he was hard, pressed…

I walked home in the fading light feeling like I’d swallowed something whole – something warm and sharp and alive that was rearranging my insides to make room for itself. *** I couldn’t sleep. Sat in bed with my laptop glowing and the cursor blinking and all of it – Elena, the porch, the driveway,…

“He’s being nice to a kid. I can’t exactly-“ “You can’t prove it. That’s the point. That’s why it works.” She looked at me. “Caleb isn’t stupid. He’s patient. And he’s playing a longer game than you’re giving him credit for.” I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. Because she was right and I knew she was…

Because of course he did. Rhys Maddox didn’t stay down. He peeled himself off the ice, shook his head once, grabbed his stick, and skated back to center like the hit was a minor inconvenience and not the thing that had just stopped my heart for three full seconds. Overtime. Sudden death. The arena was…

I wrote at night, after Sienna fell asleep, the screen glow turning my dorm room blue. Anonymous posts about wanting things that could burn your life down. About kissing someone whose last name you might share someday. About tracing tattoos in the dark and learning someone’s history through their skin because their mouth wouldn’t give…

Zara was right. When Caleb went silent, he was planning. And now he had ammunition. “You’re staring at your phone again.” Sienna didn’t look up from her flashcards. She didn’t need to – she had a sixth sense for when I was spiraling and an even sharper one for when the spiral involved a boy….