Page 7

Chapter 7

Anders

I didn’t remove the camera because I’m a dirty liar who lies. I’m sitting in my car outside my Mum’s house, hovering my thumb over my security app, willing myself not to check Jahmar’s camera feed. I’ve avoided clicking on it all day because I know as soon as I do, I’ve crossed the line into psychopathic stalker territory. I’ve always kept this odd urge to watch people under wraps…until him.

Jahmar’s a smart guy; I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already discovered the camera. The suspicion surged off him in thick waves, drowning me in paranoia.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Even if I found out he was up to something shady, it’s not like I could report him. I’d literally be handing myself in to the police for invasion of privacy. Deep down, I know this has nothing to do with wanting to find out if he’s some criminal. This was about my twisted desire to uncover this captivating man. He drives me fucking insane with his chirpy disposition and shameless flirting. But he also gets me hard and makes my stomach do pathetic somersaults whenever he’s near. His very presence transforms my dull world into technicolour, so bright he could burn away my retinas.

If I let my guard down with him, even just once, he’d eat me alive. Skin, bones, and all, leaving nothing but scraps. Yet, as worrisome as that may seem, I can’t help wanting to be his favourite snack.

I flinch as someone taps on my window. “Fuck,” I hiss, watching my phone tumble into the footwell.

Looking up, I find my brother grinning at me. I roll down the window with a dramatic huff. “You scared me, dickhead.”

Chris chuckles, displaying perfectly straight teeth. His crow’s feet stand out more than usual, oddly making him look more charming.

My half-brother is a smooth guy—he always has been. Even at forty-seven, he still makes people fall at his feet. It’s no surprise, considering he’s one of the most successful surgeons in the north. He’s annoyingly intelligent and has that classic tall, dark, and handsome thing going on, which is the complete opposite of me.

Chris has had a few short relationships with men and women, although nothing’s ever stuck. He’s married to his job and has no intention of starting a family. He likes to tell people I’m the only son he’ll ever have. With an almost twenty-year age gap, it doesn’t surprise me that people think we’re father and son. In many ways, he has been like a father to me. He’s been there for me at every stage of my life, supporting me emotionally and financially like any other parent.

Despite our careers taking very different turns, he’s never judged me or made me feel bad for not being as successful as him. I hit the brother jackpot.

Neither of us is in contact with our dads, but our little family unit has never felt anything less than full.

“You coming in or what? Apparently, we’re having toad in the hole, your favourite.” Chris leans a hand through the window and ruffles my hair.

“Oi, piss off, will you,” I complain, swatting him away.

I climb out of the car, and Chris wraps a heavy arm around my shoulder and places a light kiss on the top of my head. I pretend to squirm in his grasp as he leads me up to Mum’s front door, but I secretly love how affectionate he is.

Before we can ring the bell, Mum swings the door open. Her dyed brown locks are tied up in a messy bun; wisps of hair frame her plump face. She has many wrinkles, evidence of a life well lived. Mum always stayed up late, drank too much wine, smoked weed and had her fair share of lovers. She’s been a phenomenal mother, slightly chaotic and impulsive at times, but at her core, she’s a good person.

She can’t have done too badly in life, considering one of her sons is a renowned surgeon. I’m less impressive, however, Mum doesn’t seem to mind. Like me, she bounced from job to job but always managed to make sure food was on the table and helped support Chris through medical school. He’s paid her back every penny and then some and sends her money each month as her meagre pension doesn’t go far.

“You’re late,” she pretends to scold with a warm smile.

“How did you know we were here? Were you waiting at the door?” my brother teases while leaning down to give her a hug and a loud peck on the cheek.

“No,” she says, throwing her head back as she laughs. “Got myself one of those door cams so I can see who’s comin’ and goin’. I tell you what, it ent half entertaining. You know, I think Jill is havin’ an affair with a younger bloke. He’s been poppin’ over in the middle of the day a few times a week.”

I bristle at the mention of ‘watching people’. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. My phone sits in my pocket like a burning lump of coal just begging to be pulled out and checked. Mum backs up, letting Chris pass through the entrance.

“Are you sure that’s not her grandson?” Chris asks, followed by a hearty chuckle.

“Hmm, could be. I’ll be keepin’ an eye out either way. Come here, love, give us a hug.”

I awkwardly half-hug her. When she pulls back, her brows are drawn together, scrutinising me.

“Jesus, why are you so pale, Anders? You comin’ down with somethin’?”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, wiggling from her tight hold.

She shrugs and lightly pats me on the cheek. “Made your favourite, darlin’.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Her easy smile softens something inside of me, and I release my strung-up shoulders and follow them to the kitchen.

“So then, boys, what’s new?” Mum starts plating up dinner, clattering her pots and pans as usual. The kitchen looks like World War III has popped off; she’s yet to master the art of cleaning as she goes.

Chris ignores her chaos and dives into an expressive monologue about a unique surgery he performed this week. He really is admirable. I can only hope that one day, I get my shit together and achieve something half as impressive as what he does every day.

We sit down, and there are a few moments of silence as we dig into our rich meal like we’ve not eaten in a week.

“How about you?” Chris nudges me with his elbow to get my attention.

“Nothing to report, same old, same old.”

Mum jokingly rolls her eyes. “You say that every time.”

“Sorry, my life isn’t as exciting as yours. I work nights and I spend my days sleeping. Then, on my days off, my body clock is fucked, so I’m too knackered to go anywhere.” I sound like a whiny bitch; even I can hear it.

“Maybe it’s time to look for something else. You know I don’t mind helping you out for a few months until you find your feet,” Chris suggests for the hundredth time.

I groan while heavy-handedly placing my knife and fork on the table. I know he means well and has my best interests at heart, but I don’t need to be babied. And it’s not just that…my insides twist and turn at the idea of quitting my job and no longer having access to Jahmar. Why the hell is that the deciding factor about why I should or shouldn’t quit my job? I’ve acknowledged that my current infatuation with him is wrong, but it’s not something I’m willing to give up—not yet, anyway. Not until I dissect that haunted smile and the cause of those dark circles under his eyes.

I suck in a deep breath, stabilising myself before responding. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m good.”

My mum and brother exchange a wary look. Fury simmers in my chest until it feels like it’s going to erupt and split me in two.

I abruptly stand, needing a time-out. “I need the loo.”

Storming out of the kitchen like a stroppy teenager, I feel like a complete twat. My pissy attitude was embarrassing, but it’s like there’s something dark inside of me. Something that’s been brewing for years, like I could do some really fucked up things if I allowed myself.

My mum and brother have been nothing but supportive; it’s my own insecurities that torment me.

Leaning against the bathroom door I slip down it until I land on my bum with a thud. I slam my head back against the door and wince at the shot of pain that travels through the back of my skull.

I need something to calm me down and distract me from my spiralling thoughts. My hand digs into my back pocket like it has a mind of its own—I need to see him.

As I unlock my phone and open my security app, a hummingbird flutters its wings in my stomach, making me almost nauseated. Floating my thumb over the feed, I close my eyes before clicking on it.

Oh, fuck.

I knew where I’d placed the camera would open up a world of sin, but now that I’m here, watching him, I’m possessed by the devil himself.

Jahmar’s lying stark naked, knees bent and spread with his feet braced on the bed. I zoom in to see every inch of his delectable skin on display. Apart from the subtle dusting of curly hair on his chest and above his cock, he appears smooth. His cock is fucking mesmerising. It’s thick, just above average length, darker at the base, and gradients into a light brown with an almost deep pink at the tip.

Jahmar’s large hand drags up and down his length at a steady pace. He rolls his palm around the end, gathering moisture. It must be sensitive because his legs wobble as he winds his palm around the wet tip. As he glides back down, he pumps his hips up, revealing a silver piece of metal that’s glistening in his perineum. My breath catches, and pressure builds in my chest. Send the fucking coroner because I am dead. No single thing should be allowed to be so arousing, but that piercing sure is. Honestly, it should be illegal—straight to jail, Jahmar Walker.

I fumble with my stupid belt buckle. My dick feels as if it could burst into flames if I don’t wrap my hand around it this very second.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I quietly chant as I struggle to unleash my throbbing cock.

I pull my boxers and trousers down so they’re wrapped around my ankles and spread my thighs. When I finally wrap my hand around the base, I moan in relief. My other hand trembles as I clutch my phone, watching as Jahmar fucks into the precise ring he made with his fist. I tug at my dick aggressively so, needing to be exactly where he is, needing to release all these fucked up feelings I have for this intoxicating man.

Jahmar pulls his hand away, spitting into his palm before returning to his dick. Not that he needed to; he’s wet enough. I copy him, wanting to feel exactly as he does, and tumble head-first into this climax alongside him.

His hips pump chaotically now. Every time I catch the twinkle of that metal ring through his guiche, I swear my cock grows harder. I feel completely feral, unable to stop my own hips from drilling up from the floor like a Duracell bunny.

Mocha eyes ping up to the camera like he’s looking at me dead in the eyes, searching my soul. Surely, he doesn’t know it’s there. Any rational person would have removed the camera if they knew someone was watching, not start masturbating towards it.

I’m too fucking wound up to care; my obsession is putting on a show for me, even if he doesn’t know it. Jahmar doesn’t take his eyes off the camera as his whole body quivers. He’s so close.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” I murmur. Like he can hear my very words, his body pulls tight before releasing ropes of thick cum all over his hand and stomach.

Jahmar’s eyes squint as he struggles to keep them open. He stares right down the camera lens like he knows I’m there. When he bites his lip, it’s too much to bear, cum pulses out of me, landing on the bathroom floor between my spread thighs. Wave after wave of pleasure surges through me until my body turns to liquid. I can barely grasp the phone in my trembling hand as my body unravels.

It’s enough to shatter me when Jahmar trails his fingers through the sticky mess on his lower stomach. His fingers come up to his mouth as he feasts on it, cleaning each finger meticulously. My heart pummels my ribcage, threatening to break free and land in the puddle of cum between my legs. Who the hell plays with their own cum when they’re alone? It feels like a performative act, one done just for me .

An eerie smile spreads across his striking face. I hold my breath and wait as he teases me mercilessly before cockily winking at the camera. I gasp, blood rushing to my ears—he knows I’m watching.