Page 11 of The Way Home (Pathfinders Lake Romance #5)

Riley

M y shoes were the first thing I'd kicked off as soon as I got in the house.

Having the air hit my feet was a huge relief.

The whole trek home on Jeremy's back was pathetic and ridiculous, but I would have been miserable if I'd walked all that way in my wet shoes and I absolutely wasn’t going to go barefoot.

Being held by him, even as my legs started to go numb, felt like I was feeling the sun shining on my skin after years of being in the dark. The warmth radiating through me and making me feel alive again. It was easier, too, not having to look at him and simply be able to soak him in.

Jeremy never complained or even seemed to falter.

Knowing he could so easily support my frame, I couldn't help thinking about the ways he could manhandle me in the bedroom, and…

fuck , that was hot. I'd never been one to go for muscles, and mostly I tended to pick guys that were as opposite Jeremy as possible, but with my height, it wasn't often I met someone who could lift me, let alone carry me with ease.

Which, of course, had me all screwed up again, especially when we got back to the house and I was confronted with the reality of our relationship…

as brothers . Yet, here I was, standing in the shower fully erect.

My hand was on the shower knob, ready to turn it to cold so I could force the problem to go away.

Except… it wouldn't. And maybe for now, just right now, I could give into it.

Besides, I'd been left unfinished twice since being here, and I was desperate for release.

Perhaps it would help me clear my head, too.

Okay, it was all pure justification, but I needed it to let go for a moment.

I closed my eyes and let my mind return to the dock.

To the moment when Jeremy pushed up and kissed me.

That first press of his lips to mine had taken me so completely by surprise, my brain short-circuited for a moment.

But then we were there, kissing. It was a wormhole, time folding in on itself to be both in the past and the present.

There was the boy I loved with lips new and exciting and the man he'd become with experience that made his actions sure and strong.

My hand went to my achingly hard cock, stroking as I remembered Jeremy gripping me through my clothes.

How I wished it was his hand now, squeezing with just enough pressure to make me push forward into it, seeking more.

My thumb swept around the head, imagining him teasing it the way he'd done in the past. The worst part—or maybe the best part—was I didn't have to imagine what he would do I had enough memories to draw from.

Jeremy and I had spent a lot of time together that summer. He had been my first kiss, first of any and all bases, first lover. We had been so comfortable together that we felt safe exploring and discovering what we liked or didn't like. And Jeremy… he had this fascination with the head of my cock.

I mimicked the touch I remembered until I couldn't handle it any longer.

My hand gripped my cock, and I stroked hard and fast. I rested my head against my arm bracing on the wall as I put all of my energy into getting off.

With how desperate I'd been, it wasn't long before a huge explosion ripped through me, and I painted the shower tiles.

My chest heaved rapidly as I fought to catch my breath, and my vision went blurry with the power of my orgasm.

It was only after I'd come down from the high that the realization of fantasizing over my stepbrother hit me.

The comfort I needed from the release was dissipating.

Washing the streaks of cum down the drain made me feel as if I were trying to wash away evidence of a crime.

It wasn't that I hadn't thought of him while jerking off before—I had plenty of times.

It had been with the understanding nothing would ever actually happen between us, though I always managed to work up some guilt afterward.

Nothing like this, though. Not with the taste of his lips still lingering on mine.

Not with him in the same house. Not with such clear and determined want, so real, so tangible… and possibly reciprocated.

I was fucked.

After turning off the shower and toweling off, I cracked the door open to see if he was there, dreading having to make eye contact.

With the hallway clear, I darted into my room and closed the door.

It wasn't long before I heard the shower start again.

Jeremy was naked only feet away, and my mind played a cruel trick of picturing Jeremy's load adding to mine as it circled the drain.

I pushed myself away from the door, needing more space, needing not to hear the water change with how it hit his body, or envision the way it flowed over his chiseled form.

Still in my towel, I landed on the bed face down and covered my head with a pillow as if it would block everything out. How did you block out what was inside your head? No pillow would be able to drown that out.

I returned to my tried and true tactics, something I probably should have done before coming with the image of Jeremy burning through me. A knock sounded on my door, and I knew he wasn't going to leave me alone, but I would rather not be in my towel still when he came in.

“Just a minute,” I shouted, hurrying to grab something to throw on. I'd just barely pulled my boxer briefs up and adjusted myself when the doorknob turned.

“Fifty-nine, sixty. It's been a minute.” Jeremy pushed in, looking smug as I dropped my hands to cup in front of my crotch.

Despite him feeling me up not that long ago, I felt completely exposed in only my underwear. I forced myself to calmly walk to my suitcase to grab a shirt—I really needed to unpack. “You know, some people actually wait for permission before entering.”

“And miss seeing you like this? Where's the fun in that?” Jeremy grinned, making my heart skip.

I pulled my t-shirt on, and caught Jeremy watching my every move.

Under that kind of scrutiny, I didn't dare try to put pants on, knowing his attention would be drawn lower.

The memory of his detailed touch was too present, and I wouldn't be able to hide the effect he had on me if my dick warmed beneath his gaze.

Unsure of what to do, I sat on the edge of my bed.

I didn't even know what to say to him. As hard as it had been, it felt really nice to simply be near him and talk with him on the dock. Now… things were too complicated.

Jeremy came over and plopped down beside me. His closeness had the butterflies in my belly fluttering, though they all froze mid-flight when his hand landed on my bare thigh. I stared at his hand, needing it to move away, needing it to move higher. I couldn't tell anymore.

“Periodic table?” Jeremy's question caught me off-guard, and it forced my attention away from the heat coming from his palm.

I lifted my eyes to his and blinked hard. “Uh, what?”

“Was it the periodic table you were thinking so hard about? You told me it was a relaxation technique you used to use back when we were in school.”

God, I barely remembered ever mentioning it to him. First, the onions, then the wet feet, and the tools I used to clear my head. It made me feel a certain way to know that he'd held onto all those little details.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Chemical compounds, actually.”

“Cute.” Jeremy's lip tugged up on one side as his eyes twinkled. “How far did you get?”

“Strontium bisulfate.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sounds like some sort of rare alien metal used to forge the strongest weapons to protect mankind.”

I smiled despite the anxiousness I felt. “Not quite. But strontium does have pyrophoric qualities.”

“What does that mean?”

“Pyro, fire. It's often used in combination with other elements for fireworks and gives off a red color.”

“Badass,” Jeremy said, his hand still resting on my leg.

Of the few partners I'd had, two of them hated when I talked science-y stuff, and one turned everything into a competition, trying to outsmart whatever I said.

Not Jeremy, he had always listened with genuine interest. The combination of his touch and his easy company had my head spinning. I had to put a stop to this.

Reluctantly, I grabbed his hand and moved it away from my bare skin, and slid a few inches away from him, needing space to be able to breathe and think. “We can't do this, Jem.”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Do what, talk?”

I waved my hand between us. “Whatever this is.”

He looked like he wanted to reach out to me again, but instead folded his hands in his lap.

“Listen, I'm not going to apologize for kissing you, because, fuck, Riley, I've thought about it for so long.

So long . If you need time to work through shit, I'll give it to you.

Whatever you decide you want this to be, I'll deal with, but I'm not going away, you hear me?”

My mouth fell open as my head tried to keep up. Did he just say he'd been wanting to kiss me for a long time? That couldn't be real, right? I didn't even know what to say after such a confession.

Jeremy's expression grew serious. “I need you to promise me something, Ri.”

“Okay?”

“Promise me you won't leave again. Don't disappear on me. I don't… think I can handle it if you did.” His voice broke at the end, and he looked away. Jeremy always seemed so strong, not just physically but mentally, too. My chest ached at the thought of causing him pain.

“I promise.” Even if it killed me, but I could do it for him.

Jeremy gave me a wistful smile and got up from my bed. As he walked toward the door, he said, “Brunch is keeping warm in the oven, come out and eat whenever you're ready.”

Brunch. The man was seriously too good for the world. I was in here having an existential crisis and he had been cooking. Why did he have to be so perfect?