Eric was inside him. Eric had just come in Olivier’s body, and Olivier had completely forgotten about the pill until now.
With his heat... how likely was it that Ollie would be pregnant by the end of tonight? Eric was his brother.
Olivier’s stomach twisted. He scrambled against the desk, at the same time Eric said, “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Olivier panted, alarm ringing through his entire body. He tore himself out of Eric’s arms, shivering at the cold air, Eric’s cock slipping out of him. Shame burned his face. I fucked my brother. I have his seed inside me.
When he turned, Eric wasn’t looking at his growing knot. He was looking at Olivier’s shoulder, and Olivier was too anxious to think about why.
“I messed up my pills,” Olivier said, wringing his hands. Why am I fucking up again? “I—I need to get some pills. Those ones.”
“What pills?”
“The... hormone ones. For emergencies.”
Eric stared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Olivier pointed at his belly, feeling like he was a fish out of water. He couldn’t find the words he needed, even though he knew exactly what he was talking about. “The ones that... get rid of the baby.”
Horror flashed through Eric’s eyes. “Morning-after pills?”
“Yes, that.”
“I thought you meant the bonding mark.”
“What bonding mark?”
Eric’s gaze fell to Olivier’s neck, heavy with guilt.
It’s not just the baby? Olivier whimpered, touching the stinging spot at the crook of his shoulder. That bite... it was on his scent gland, wasn’t it? In the heat of the moment, all he had known was the pleasure.
Dread piled onto Olivier’s heart. He’d been marked once before, but he’d left Zan. Zan had been a mistake. And now... Eric’s mark was there.
Somehow, in the heat of the moment, Eric had taken Olivier as his bondmate.
4
Olivier
“This can’t be happening,” Olivier groaned, closing his eyes.
He felt naked, suddenly. Vulnerable. He yanked his pants back up, far too aware of the slick on his legs, the damp remnants of sex between his cheeks. He couldn’t be wearing Eric’s mark.
Maybe Eric would ignore the mark he’d left. Gods knew he would come to his senses once his rut was over.
“You weren’t on BC?” Eric’s forehead furrowed.
Olivier yanked his belt shut, tighter than he needed to. He needed a reminder to stop fucking up, for once. “You don’t have to be responsible. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Ollie. I bit you. I fucked you, and I’m responsible, damn it.”
Olivier turned away, grabbing his messenger bag. He needed to leave. Needed to get away from Eric, so Eric wouldn’t see how much Olivier still wanted him.
Years ago, Olivier had thought he would stop being so attracted to his brother, if only he knew what it felt like to sleep with Eric. But that had happened, and Olivier couldn’t help wanting to touch Eric’s knot now, couldn’t help wanting to burrow into Eric’s arms, breathe in that cedar scent.
His skin smelled like Eric. Somehow, over the course of the sex, Eric had dragged his wrists across Olivier’s skin, and Olivier hadn’t noticed. And now Olivier couldn’t stand the idea of Eric’s scent fading away. It had been so long since he smelled it.
“I’m fine,” Olivier snapped, not meaning it. “Leave me alone.”
Eric froze. Olivier hurried out through the shop’s backdoor, shutting off the lights. Then he realized it was futile doing that—Eric was still in the shop. Olivier needed him to vacate the place before he could lock up.
Awkwardly, Olivier stood at the door, looking at the almost-empty parking lot, and around that, the orange light puddled beneath streetlamps. The streets of downtown Meadowfall were quiet, with bare trees along the sidewalks, and quaint shops lining the roads beyond.
His body ached, and his ass felt raw. Chances were, he’d go back home, and jerk off to what he’d just done with his stepbrother.
His life wasn’t getting any better, was it?
When Eric strode out, his jeans were zipped up, his knot a thick bulge beneath the denim. Olivier tore his eyes away, his body squeezing with need.
Eric didn’t need more to worry about. His omega had just died. Olivier was no replacement for her.
And there was a gold band on Eric’s finger—from that marriage. Ollie had failed to notice Eric’s ring in the heat of the moment.
He doesn’t love me.
So Olivier locked the door and cradled his belly, wondering if he really wanted to abort the child. If he conceived... it was Eric’s. But Eric was his brother.
Who knew you were that filthy? Zan would’ve said. And Olivier’s dad... he would look at Olivier with disappointment, wouldn’t he?
I shouldn’t keep it.
Olivier needed to go to the pharmacy, get some morning-after pills. And maybe an enema, in case that helped to wash away Eric’s seed.
“Where’re you headed?” Eric murmured, stopping beside Olivier. He closed his fingers around Olivier’s arm; the heat of his body was inviting in the cold air. “You’re cold.”
In his rush to flee from Eric, Olivier had forgotten his sweater.
“I—I need to fix this.” Olivier bit his lip, trying not to lean closer to Eric. “I’m going to the pharmacy.”
Eric’s expression tightened, but he pulled Olivier closer to himself, lending some of his body heat. “I’ll come with you.”
Why would he? “I thought... I thought you hated me.”
Olivier squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of the answer. Sex was one thing. But if Eric still hated him... Eric was the only family he really had left anymore. Dad didn’t often speak to him, and Eric’s mom had never thought much of Olivier to begin with. She’d said Ollie looked too much like his father’s ex. There were his brothers, Cole and Aaron, but Olivier had never been close to them, growing up.
“I’m responsible for it,” Eric growled.
So maybe he still hated Olivier. Olivier’s stomach shriveled. But Eric held on to him. If this was all the touch he got from Eric... that was okay. He’d live with it.
How long had it been since anyone touched him this kindly, anyway? Olivier couldn’t remember. He’d take any skin contact, but Eric... Eric had been his safe place, once upon a time. They’d curled up in bed together, and Olivier had slept best in his brother’s arms.
Olivier trudged to his car, unsure what he could even say. That was a good fuck? Sorry I lied to you all those years ago?
“Which pharmacy?” Eric asked. “I’ll follow in my car.”
“You don’t have to,” Olivier said.
“Gonna make sure you’re all right, damn it.” Eric narrowed his eyes. “You’re my omega now.”
Olivier’s stomach flipped. “The bite doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Do you want it to?”
Eric’s stare burned into the side of his head. Olivier had no answer for him. If he acknowledged the bite... sooner or later, the truth would be discovered. Eric would lose his relationship with their parents.
So Olivier shook his head. “No. I won’t be your omega.”
“Okay.”
Eric sounded nonchalant, like he couldn’t care who Olivier was to him.
Just like that, Olivier’s heart cracked again.
He hunched his shoulders, trying to convince himself to stay away from Eric. Olivier unlocked his car door, climbing in. “I can do this myself.”
“I’m following,” Eric said. “I’m paying for the stuff you need. Meds, doctor bills, whatever.”
One glance at the back door of Olivier’s Strings, and Olivier nodded. With his failing business... he needed all the help he could get.
At the pharmacy, Eric parked next to Olivier, cutting his engine.
What would it feel like to have Eric’s lips on his again? Olivier shivered, pushing the thought out of his
mind. That had been a fling, nothing more. Why would Eric kiss him, anyway?
And yet... he wished Eric wouldn’t leave tonight. Just so he could pretend they were young again, back when things had still been good between them.
Olivier climbed awkwardly out of his car, keeping his eyes fixed on the asphalt as he crossed the road. Behind, Eric followed, hands in his pockets. His gaze rested heavily on Olivier, and Olivier’s skin prickled.
Stop looking at me. You have better places to be right now.
They entered the store, the chime ringing to announce their arrival. Olivier jumped. He couldn’t help feeling antsy. If he did nothing... he could conceive this very night.
Inside, fluorescent lights illuminated the store. Medicine boxes crowded the shelves, and the aisles were empty. Olivier was vaguely familiar with this place. He visited sometimes to pick up his BC pills.
Behind the counter, an elderly beta beamed. Olivier froze, recognizing old Mrs. Sullivan. Mrs. Sullivan was short and plump, peering at them through her reading glasses. It seemed as though she’d been working at the drugstore her whole life.
“Olivier!” she said, waving. “And is that... that’s Eric, isn’t it? Eric, I haven’t seen you in ages! How you’ve grown up!”
Fuck. Olivier froze, only now realizing how terrible this was. Mrs. Sullivan remembered them both. Worse, she was a terrible gossip.
And Olivier smelled like his brother, and sex.
Eric nodded at Mrs. Sullivan, glancing at Olivier for a cue.
“I’ll do this myself,” Olivier said under his breath. “Please.”
Eric looked as though he wanted to protest. But if he stepped any closer, and if Mrs. Sullivan realized they both smelled the same... She’d know what Olivier had done.
“Here,” Eric said, pulling out his wallet. “Take my card.”
He handed Olivier a credit card, with Eric Lancaster printed across the bottom. Olivier tried not to look at it, hurrying up to the counter. The sooner he could leave this place...
“Good evening,” he said. “I’m looking for an enema. And also... a morning-after pill, if you have one. Or two.”
Mrs. Sullivan opened her mouth, looking hard at him. “A morning-after pill?” she said disapprovingly.
Olivier’s face burned. He didn’t owe her an explanation. “Yes,” he said. “If I could have one, that would be perfect.”
She clucked her tongue, glancing at Eric. Olivier rubbed his thumb over the embossed letters on Eric’s credit card, his nerves pulling tight. If he could leave, if nothing bad happened after tonight... I shouldn’t have slept with Eric.
“Let me retrieve a pack,” Mrs. Sullivan said, turning to a shelf behind the counter. She took one box, then an enema kit, returning to the register. “Sure is nice of your brother to accompany you.”
Olivier couldn’t meet her eyes. Mrs. Sullivan scanned the items, and then her nostrils flared. She was smelling Olivier—of course she was—to try and guess who he’d slept with.
Olivier’s stomach shrank. He shoved Eric’s credit card into the card reader, noticing the way Mrs. Sullivan’s eyebrows crawled up her forehead. Does she know?
The transaction went through. Olivier wanted to melt into the floor. He wanted to grab the receipt out of her hands, and run out of the store.
He forced himself to wait.
“Well, good evening to you and your brother,” Mrs. Sullivan said, handing over the receipt.
Olivier took it and hurried to the door, the pharmacist’s gaze burning into his back. Eric left the store first, holding the door open for him. Olivier didn’t stop until he was back at his car, his heart pounding loud in his ears.
Did Mrs. Sullivan know? If the news spread about them... would he have to close his shop, and move out of town?
“Look,” Eric said, stopping just behind him. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Olivier snapped, his heart torn. He wanted to rail at Eric, wanted to vent his frustration. But he also wanted to be held, and just... not think about the consequences of today.
But how could he ask that of Eric?
He felt lonely, suddenly, with his brother just behind him, and no one to turn to for help.
Olivier hugged the tiny boxes to his chest, leaning against his driver’s side door. I just want to have things going right, for once. Is that too much to ask?
Warm arms wrapped around his waist. Then Eric pulled him back gently, until Olivier’s shoulders bumped into his chest.
“I’m here,” Eric murmured, his breath hot on Olivier’s ear. He curled himself around Olivier, like a warm, safe cage. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here.”
Olivier’s throat closed. Really? “I thought you—I thought you hated me.”
“Not anymore, I don’t.” Eric hugged him close. Then he turned Olivier around, peering into Olivier’s eyes. “You okay?”
Olivier shook his head, scarcely able to believe this. “You don’t... hate me?”
“Nope.” Eric dropped a kiss on his nose, and it was so intimate that Ollie couldn’t believe it. Could only stare as Eric met his eyes, Eric’s gaze ever so patient.
Olivier hadn’t seen that in years. Hadn’t had anyone offer him comfort like Eric was now. For Eric to do that...
He bit his lip hard, whimpering. Eric really doesn’t hate me. It felt like an iron band around his chest had cracked open a little, and he could breathe again. “Oh.”
With gentle fingers, Eric brushed Olivier’s hair out of his face. Then he pulled Olivier close, and held him. Olivier filled his lungs with cedar, his body relaxing ever so slightly.
“Let’s get you home,” Eric murmured. “I want to see you safe in bed before I leave.”
With the enema on the to-do list, it wasn’t as though Ollie would get in bed anytime soon. His heart fluttered, though. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Why?”
Eric shrugged, looking away. “My responsibility.”
“I’m an adult, Eric. I don’t need to be babied.”
“I’m not babying you.” Eric frowned, making an impatient, disgruntled sound. “I just want to see that you’re okay, all right? I mean, with this... this thing. All of this.”
He waved at the enema and morning-after pill, and Olivier’s cheeks burned. “I need to get home first,” Olivier mumbled. “And... and clean myself out.”
“I’ll help.”
How? Olivier squirmed at the thought of Eric touching him again. It sounded good. Better than good.
I’m ashamed that you’re part of our family, Olivier’s stepmother would say.
Olivier silenced his thoughts, pulling himself out of Eric’s arms. “I’ll head home now.”
“I’ll follow,” Eric murmured.
He let his fingers skim down Olivier’s arm, then waited until Olivier got into his car. It was only when Olivier started the engine, that Eric pulled his own car out of the parking spot to follow him.
They drove for a while, the white-yellow glow of Eric’s headlights winking in Olivier’s rearview mirror. At a stoplight, he popped the morning-after pill out of its foil pillow, and swallowed it dry. Didn’t let himself think about it. He didn’t want to think about carrying a baby to term, didn’t want to drag Eric into a commitment he wasn’t prepared for. This wasn’t a baby he should be conceiving.
And yet... A tiny part of Olivier twisted at the thought of losing this baby. It would be Eric’s. It would be a child his alpha had given him.
Olivier whimpered, looking down at his belly. It was flat now, and it would continue to be flat for the foreseeable future.
“It’s the right choice,” he told himself. “Things will be okay.”
When he pulled into his apartment’s parking lot, the place was quiet, and most of the windows in the building were lit up. His own window was dark, though. There wasn’t anyone else waiting there.
Olivier climbed out of his car, hugging the enema ki
t to himself. He needed to wash Eric’s seed out of his body. Erase the evidence that he’d spent his heat with his brother.
A door slammed, and Eric jogged up to him a few moments later.
“All right?” Eric asked.
Olivier shrugged. He trudged over to the elevator lobby, Eric following him. “I thought you had elsewhere to be. People to care for,” Olivier said. “You know, your daughter.”
Those words tasted bitter.
“She’s fine. She’s with Mom and Dad.” Eric stepped into the elevator after him, his gaze heavy on Olivier. “You said you don’t have an alpha.”
Olivier rolled his shoulders, staring at the buttons. He hit the one for the fourth floor, wondering if it was inappropriate to ask for another hug. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Why the hell would I be? Olivier bit back his answer, waiting as the elevator swept them up through the building. The silence was awkward. When the doors finally slid open, Olivier said, “You try having a pregnancy scare.”
Eric winced. “Sorry.”
At his front door, Olivier struggled with his keys. He didn’t want any of the neighbors seeing Eric with him. Didn’t want the news to spread even further. There were a few neighbors on this floor he was fond of—old Mrs. Riley, an alpha called Kate, and a pair of twins in the far apartment. If they knew how whorish he’d been... they’d look at him differently, wouldn’t they? It’d be worse if he carried Eric’s baby.
Olivier’s hands shook. Then the key slid home, and the door opened. His skin crawling, Olivier flicked on the lights, hurrying toward the bathroom.
He pried open the enema box on the way. Looked at the small, clear bottle that slid into his palm, with a rubber-tipped nozzle at the top.
He’d never used one of these. Hadn’t the slightest idea what he should do, where he should go to administer it.
“You need help?” Eric asked from the bathroom door.
Olivier jumped, his heart pounding. Hadn’t thought Eric would follow him here.
“I don’t know,” he said, holding the bottle to his chest.
Stepbrother's Secret Page 4
