Chapter 10: Sunday Heat

I woke up hard.

The kind of hard that made it impossible to ignore. Morning wood pressed hot and heavy against the inside of my boxers, but it wasn’t just biology. It was memory. Dylan’s mouth. His voice. The way he looked at me last night like he was seconds from bending me over that damn couch.

I blinked against the soft Sunday light filtering through the basement windows, my breath catching as everything from the night before replayed like a fever dream.

Jake was passed out on the other side of the room, sprawled on the pull-out couch with his mouth open and one sock halfway off his foot. Some old Die Hard sequel was still playing on mute in the background. The TV cast a blue glow over the room, and somewhere in the corner, an empty pizza box lay open like evidence of the crime we all tried not to commit.

But Dylan wasn’t on the couch anymore.

I sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from my eyes, my heart already picking up speed. Had he left? Did he actually—

My phone buzzed.

I grabbed it off the floor where it had fallen sometime during the night. One notification.

Dylan: Outside. On the front porch. Come find me.

I didn’t even hesitate.

I slipped out of my blanket cocoon, careful not to wake Jake, and padded quietly up the basement stairs. My body still ached — mouth sore, jaw tight, thighs remembering the tension of kneeling between Dylan’s legs. I flushed just remembering the way he’d whispered in my ear.

Tomorrow, I’m fucking you.

Outside. He’d meant that literally?

I cracked the back door open and stepped into the sunlight. It was barely 9 a.m., and the air still had that early-morning chill clinging to it, but the sky was clear, birds annoyingly cheerful. Dylan was on the back porch, sitting on one of the deck steps with a cup of coffee balanced on his knee. He was barefoot, shirtless, wearing only those same damn black athletic shorts from last night that I’d been desperate to get off him.

He looked up when I stepped outside. His mouth twitched into a half-smirk. “Morning, sunshine.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you for a coffee person.”

“I’m not. You kept me up.” He took a sip of coffee, then added, “Thinking about your mouth.”

I sat down next to him before I said something stupid like same.

Instead, I asked, quieter, “Can I ask you something?”

Dylan glanced over at me, brow lifted. “Yeah. Shoot.”

“All this time I thought you were completely straight.”

He was quiet for a second, then nodded slowly. “I thought I was too.”

I blinked.

“I mean,” he continued, eyes on the yard, “I’ve never really had a dude suck me off. Never kissed one, either. Before you.”

My chest squeezed. “So last night was, like ... new.”

“New and fucking amazing,” he said, laughing under his breath. “Spaghetti noodle shit, man. One bend and it’s over.”

I snorted. “Wow. That’s beautiful. Poetic.”

“I’m serious,” he said, now looking at me. “My Ex! Ava, never sucked me off much ... The few times she tried, she used teeth. I’d leave with battle damage.”

I made a face. “Ouch.”

“So yeah, You were such a good boy with your pretty little mouth yesterday.” he said, leaning back with a stretch. “Turns out, I’ve been missing out.”

glanced at him, trying not to smile. “Do you have an off switch?”

Dylan smirked. “The only way to shut me up is to put my cock in your mouth. Right here. Front porch. Let the neighbors see what a cocksucker you really are.”

I choked on my breath, bursting into a laugh. “You’re deranged.”

“And you’re hard,” he said, looking smug as hell.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t need to.

Because the look we exchanged right then said everything — about what had already happened, and exactly where this was going.

And when he leaned in again, his voice dropped low, brushing right against my ear.

“Tonight,” he said, “I’m not stopping. I don’t care if Jake’s in the next room. I don’t care if he walks in. I’ll fuck his best friend in front of him if I have to. Let him see how good you take it.”