Page 167 of For the Fans

He laughs, and I crack a small, worried smile that hopefully doesn’t give away my state of fucked-ness.

“I’m screwed.” He pushes his hair away from his face, handing me a thing of wet wipes from inside the bag. “I’m gonna end up paying to detail the inside of this thing.”

“Probably a good idea.” I grin.

Kyran flops onto the seat next to me, cleaning himself up and redressing, while I do the same, only slower, because my ass is kind of sore and this is a lot messier than I anticipated. But I’m all flushed and squirmy because Ireallylike it.

I like having him inside me this way…

Maybe that makes me a freak, but whatever. It’s the same thing I felt the first time I came inside him. Like I was branding my initials on him. And now I have his etched right on my heart.

Not just my body… I feel him in my fuckingsoul, and this is so bad.

Why did you think it was a good idea to let him fuck you, idiot?? Now you’re attached to him like some desperate fool, and it’s ridiculous.

Why doIfeel like this? Am I just physically incapable of having casual sex, or is he just so closed off it doesn’t affect him the same way??

“Are you alright?” Kyran murmurs, and I put my obsessing on pause to peek at him. “You’re awfully quiet. Was I too rough or something…?”

He looks worried, and I’m cringing over how it’s beating inside my chest like a second heartbeat. The way he looks at me and the way he talks to me, and the fucking smell of him all over me,God-fucking-damnit…

I can’t fall in love with my stepbrother.

Forcing a tiny shake of my head, I grunt, “No. No, you were not too rough, trust me. I… That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.”

His lips curl, and he flutters his lashes. “So does that mean we’re both bottoms now?”

I have to laugh, because he seems thrilled by this concept. “We can be any level of versatile you want, baby.”

His grin widens and he hums, while I shift at how fuzzy and hot it’s making me.

Oh crap… Has his smile always been that beautifully radiant? Are those hearts floating around his head??

Kyran doesn’t seem concerned with how weird I’m being. Because he’s too busy being way more affectionate than I’m used to. Easing himself back over to me, he wraps his arms aroundmy waist, nestling up on my chest while he kisses my neck and breathes me in. Almost like he’s…

“Are you sniffing me?” I peer down at him.

“I like your smell, so what?” He trails his lips over the mound in my throat while it dips.

“Kyran, I—”

Nope. Stop it. Stop it right now.

I clear my throat again. “The movie ended like a million years ago. Are we… leaving? Or do you wanna put another one on?”

“I don’t want to go yet…” he says calmly.

I’m very fucking perplexed right now. This is like a one-eighty from the way he used to act after we’d fuck.Is it just because he fucked me this time? Is that all it took??

No, that doesn’t make sense either, because he was like this with me after we fucked on Christmas Eve. That was the night we stayed up talking until we couldn’t keep our eyes open any longer. And each night since then, he’s been lingering a little more and a little more afterward, like he’s slowly giving up on the idea that he needs to run away every time the sex-high wears off.

I mean, shit. This is a fuckingdate, I don’t care who you ask. And now he doesn’t want to go… AndIdefinitely don’t want to go.

So maybe we shouldn’t… go. Ever. Maybe we should just stay like this and makeushappen, because clearly, we both want it.

But he’s also afraid to admit that he’s bi, or gay, or whatever he feels like he might be leaning toward.So how do I broach the subject without scaring him away?

“Which one do you want?” he asks, and my brow furrows. “For the next movie…”