Page 39 of Holden
Holden kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch, as far away from Merrick as possible, but it wasn’t far enough.
“Where have you been?”
“Hmn?”
Merrick sniffed, swirling his paintbrush into a water cup that looked ready to be refilled. “Have you already found someone to fuck?” he asked, still not looking at Bryce. “You smell like you just got out of a shower, and whoever you’re sleeping with uses the same soap as Holden, so it’s a little off-putting.”
Bryce choked on his spit, forcing himself to swallow down as much of his shock as he could, lest he draw Merrick’s attention to his burning hot cheeks.
“I got a job,” he said instead. “Bartending at a club in Pasadena. I met someone there and went back to his place for a bit.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth either.
Merrick filled in some orange lines on the intricate dragon scales, and Bryce, for the most part, was content to watch. He’d always envied his brother’s artistic talent. His own brain simply didn’t work that way, but he was glad for it. One less thing to be compared to Merrick about.
“Are you being safe?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Is it serious?” Merrick asked next.
“We barely know each other,” he said, which was again not a lie but not the whole truth. There was no easy way to tell Merrick he’d fallen in love with Holden, especially since he’d barely been in town for a week and Merrick didn’t even know Bryce had seen Holden outside of the first day he’d arrived. “I do like him, though.”
Merrick ignored the last bit. “Where did you get a job at?”
“A place called Rapture.”
That was apparently the magic word because Merrick set down his paintbrush and leveled an extremely judgmental and unimpressed look at him. “Do you know what that place is?”
“Doyou?”
Merrick sniffed, eyes narrowing. They were clearly at an impasse, and Bryce had no interest in knowing why his brother knew about Rapture and what happened there. He could have lived his entire life not thinking about what Merrick did in the bedroom and died happy. The thought of Merrick knowing the things Bryce liked was almost enough to send him to an early grave anyway.
“You’ll have to let me know what nights you work,” was Merrick’s answer, and it was quite an admission on its own.
“I will,” he promised. “It’s been a long day, though, so I think I’m going to bed.”
“I won’t be far behind you. Just trying to finish this up.”
Bryce stood up and turned to go. He was halfway to the hallway when Merrick called after him, “I know you don’t want to stay here long-term, but I’m glad you’re here and you’re welcome to the guest room as long as you want it.”
It might have been the nicest thing Merrick had ever said to him, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Do you want to get lunch soon?” he asked. “Or dinner or something.”
“Maybe Sunday?” Merrick suggested, reaching again for his paintbrush.
“I have plans,” Bryce said.
Merrick rolled his eyes. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Always have.”
“Always will,” his brother agreed.
Bryce waited to make sure Merrick didn’t have anything else to say, then he locked himself in the guest room and stripped out of his suddenly too-tight clothes. He could feel his pulse in his ass for how horny he was, and he made quick work of setting his phone up on the nightstand and finding the right angle to give Holden the view he would want.
Bryce pressed record and assumed the position, teasing the plug out of him with a wet squelch. There was no quieting the moan that fell out of his throat, so he shoved his underwear into his mouth like a gag, giving the camera—and Holden—an imploring look before turning back around onto all fours. Bryce pushed until his hole relaxed and cum leaked down the back of his sac. He bit down hard around his makeshift gag and scooped up what he could catch on the sides of his fingers before thrusting it back into his hole.
