Chapter 3:

Risky

The next few days blurred into a haze of stolen moments and constant tension. Alex and I barely spoke in front of our parents, but the looks he gave me across the dinner table dark, knowing, hungry had me half-hard the entire meal. At night he’d text me from his room: Come here. Need that mouth on my cock. And I’d go, every single time.

By Friday afternoon the house felt like a pressure cooker. Our parents were both working from home, doors open, moving around unpredictably. Alex cornered me in the upstairs hallway while they were on a conference call downstairs.

“Laundry room. Now,” he whispered,...