Part 9: Almost Caught

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Part 9: Almost Caught

Dylan’s breath was still hot against my cheek, lips brushing the side of my face like he wasn’t done with me yet—like he’d barely even started.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmured, voice dark and smooth, “you won’t be able to walk out of the gym tomorrow.”

I was about to laugh—probably **** out some dumb reply like I don’t even lift—when we both froze.

“Yo! Troy?”

Jake’s voice.

From upstairs.

Dylan’s eyes went wide. “No fucking way.”

My heart jumped out of my chest. “Shit—”

We scrambled apart like two magnets violently repelling each other. I practically fell backward off the carpet, grabbing at my hoodie like it was a life vest. Dylan rolled to the side, trying to yank up his sweatpants in one motion but getting them caught halfway around his thigh because of his hard cock.

“I swear to god,” he whispered, “are you seriously going to leave my dick wet after this?”

“I can’t help it! Jake is here!”

“I know! But I’m gonna start barking if I don’t—fuck, where is my shirt?!”

He grabbed a random cushion off the couch and dropped it casually over his lap to hide his boner just as the basement door creaked open.

Jake came down the stairs, skipping the last two steps like he always did, and walked into the room looking a little flushed. Not from nerves—more like from a long night. His hair was wind-tousled, and he was still wearing the same hoodie he’d thrown on before leaving.

He spotted us instantly. Me sitting on the floor, hoodie pulled up to my nose like I was five seconds from dying of embarrassment, and Dylan with a suspiciously firm pillow in his lap, leaning back like some chill guy who definitely hadn’t just almost gotten blown on the living room carpet.

Jake blinked, then sighed as he dropped onto the couch beside Dylan.

“Man,” he said, slumping forward with his elbows on his knees, “tonight was… not what I expected.”

“What happened?” I asked, trying not to sound like I’d just had my face in his brother's crotch. “How was Sophie?”

Jake huffed a soft laugh. “Well. So we’re leaving Starbucks, right? She’s like, ‘Let’s walk back to my place.’ So obviously I’m thinking this is, you know… a thing.”

I nodded like I understood, even though my brain was still full of Dylan’s cocky whisper.

“We’re walking, she’s holding her cup all cute, bumping my arm, telling me how chill her roommate is…” Jake shrugged. “I’m thinking, okay, this is a soft launch into, like, making out on her couch. At least.”

Dylan made a polite little noise beside him, shifting slightly—probably trying to hide his awkward tent pole under the cushion.

Jake didn’t seem to notice.

“So we get there. She opens the door and goes, ‘Everyone’s already in the kitchen.’” He looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Everyone.”

“Who’s… everyone?” I asked carefully.

“Apparently, she and her roommate were hosting a dinner,” Jake said. “Like an actual dinner. Full table. Six people. They made pasta. Her roommate’s boyfriend brought garlic bread. It was a whole thing.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. So I walk in expecting Netflix and maybe her hand on my thigh, and instead I’m in someone’s IKEA dining room being asked if I’ve ever played Codenames.”

Dylan snorted.

Jake grinned at that. “It was honestly… not bad, though. I sat next to her the whole time, we shared a bottle of wine, she made me try this vegan chocolate tart that was weirdly good.” He paused, shrugged. “I didn’t get what I thought I was gonna get, but… I think I like her. Like actually like her.”

“Damn,” I said, still catching up. “So, no hook-up… but vibes?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Unexpected vibes. But good ones.”

He settled into the couch, reaching for the remote. “Anyway, you guys watching anything or just sitting in silence like creeps?”

Dylan cleared his throat. “Yeah—yeah, we had a movie on. It paused when you came in.”

Jake hit the play button. Some random action movie started back up—explosions, gunfire, some intense close-up of a guy running across a rooftop. None of us paid attention.

I sat on the other end of the couch now, pretending to be interested in the screen, trying not to look at Dylan.

Jake looked halfway to falling asleep ten minutes in. His body sagged into the cushions. He kicked his shoes off, stretched, and let out a soft groan.

“I’m dead,” he muttered. “G’night if I pass out.”

“Night,” I murmured.

Another few minutes passed.

The movie’s dialogue buzzed in the background.

My phone buzzed in my hoodie pocket.

I slid it out and glanced at the screen.

Dylan:

You think I’m letting this go?

Tomorrow, I’m fucking you.

I swallowed, hard.

My thumbs hovered, heart pounding. Then I typed back, slow and deliberate.

Me:

I don’t think I properly sucked your cock, anyway.

I already miss how it tastes.

I hit send.

Across the couch, Dylan’s phone lit up. He looked down, read it… then lifted his gaze straight to me.

His eyes burned.

No smirk this time—just hunger.

He adjusted the pillow in his lap, slow and obvious.

I met his stare and smiled.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

And when it did, I knew exactly how I wanted to start it—with his cock back in my mouth.

Note to Readers: If you have been liking my story so far, consider supporting me on Patreon

Follow my Patreon for early access to future parts, bonus scenes, extended version and much more.

If you want to read the bonus scene of Jake walking in on them, click here. Bonus Scene

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