“Come here, I’ll help.”
Instead of waiting for Olivier to approach him, Eric stopped in front of Olivier, taking the bottle out of his hand. Then he glanced around. “You have towels?”
Olivier pointed at the bathroom cabinet, squirming. “Some.”
“Lay some on the floor. Here.” Eric grabbed a couple of towels, shaking them open. Then he built a short stack of open towels, kneeling beside it. “Get your pants off, and lie on your side.”
Olivier paused. This wasn’t appropriate, was it? Stripping in front of Eric.
Eric raised an eyebrow. “I’m not waiting forever, you know.”
Olivier bit his lip, pulling his pants open. Eric had already seen him utterly naked. Hell, Eric had licked his hole. But stripping in front of Eric, when he’d never been allowed to... it still felt wrong.
His hole squeezing, Olivier stepped out of his pants, his body growing damp again. “You seem familiar with this process.”
“Did it a couple times with Alice.” Eric’s lips thinned.
Those words were a splash of cold water. Olivier looked away, hating himself for even bringing it up. Eric had loved his wife. It wasn’t like Olivier had a place in his heart. “I can do it myself. You don’t have to.”
“I’ll do it,” Eric said brusquely, nodding at the towels.
We aren’t seeing each other again. Maybe a second time isn’t so bad.
Olivier lay carefully on the towels, facing away from Eric. Then he stared at the dusty wood grain of the cabinet, waiting for Eric’s touch. At least, he knew to savor it now.
Eric shuffled closer, touching the back of Olivier’s knee. “Bring this up. Closer to your chest.”
Olivier dragged his leg up along the towel, until Eric patted his thigh to stop him. This left his thighs spread and his hole exposed to his brother. Olivier gulped. This was just a procedure. It was utterly clinical.
And yet... when Eric touched Olivier’s asscheek, tingles raced down his skin. Olivier bit his lip, listening as Eric tore open the safety seal around the enema bottle. Then he slipped off the protective rubber tip, and Olivier glimpsed the long white nose of the bottle, gleaming with lubrication.
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” Eric murmured. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
5
Olivier
He grasped Olivier’s cheek, spreading it. Olivier squirmed with embarrassment. Eric was looking there again, and the fluids from earlier were smeared all over his skin. Olivier’s slick. Eric’s come.
He’s thinking about his omega. Not you, Olivier told himself.
Eric touched the bottle’s cool, blunt nose to Olivier’s hole. Then he pressed it in slowly, a firm touch, and it entered Olivier, brushing against his prostate.
Pleasure hummed through Olivier’s body. He gasped, blood pooling between his legs. It wasn’t sex. Eric wasn’t inside. But he was controlling the thing inside Olivier, and it pushed deeper into him, a hard, foreign object his hole squeezed around.
Olivier bit his lip, his cock stirring to attention. He couldn’t help the musk wafting off his skin.
Then Eric squeezed the bottle, and cool liquid squirted into Olivier. Olivier turned his face away, his cock hard. He didn’t dare move in case Eric noticed his erection.
“Doin’ okay?” Eric rumbled.
Olivier nodded, gulping down a breath. His cock nudged against the towel, hungry. He closed his eyes. Focused on the bottle’s nose inside him, the growing volume of liquid inside his body.
It would wash Eric’s seed away.
When Olivier’s belly felt full, Eric withdrew the bottle, setting it on the counter. Then he looked between Olivier’s legs, and Olivier closed his eyes, his face burning. Please don’t see...
Eric sucked in a sharp breath. “You—” Eric swallowed loudly “—That made you horny?”
He saw? Olivier yelped, leaning his body forward to hide his cock. But his cock snagged against the towel, and he realized Eric could see the full length of it now, lying thick and exposed between his legs.
Olivier groaned, reaching down to cover it with his hand.
Eric caught his wrist. He pulled Olivier’s hand off his cock, baring Olivier’s desire. As though once tonight hadn’t been enough.
Olivier’s blush scorched down his throat.
“This your usual?” Eric growled. “Or are you horny just because you’re in heat?”
Or maybe it’s just you. Olivier squirmed. “I don’t know. But—thanks. For helping.”
“I want to help more,” Eric murmured.
That low growl of his... it made Olivier’s cock throb. Olivier pressed his face against the towel, too embarrassed to look at his brother.
Then he felt a light touch on his cock. Eric’s fingertips. Eric took Olivier’s cock into his hot hand, and Olivier gasped, jerking helplessly into his palm.
He’s touching me. As long as Eric didn’t know Olivier wanted him...
Eric squeezed him, sending pleasure down Olivier’s nerves. Then he slid his callused fingers along Olivier’s cock. Eric caught his foreskin. Dragged Olivier’s skin down his head, exposing his sensitive tip. Then he rubbed Olivier’s piss-slit, squeezing it open.
Olivier writhed against the towels, panting, dripping onto Eric’s fingers. Eric was touching him again. Eric wasn’t in a rut now, so... why?
Eric tugged on his cock, his grip patient, unyielding. Then he massaged Olivier from base to tip, rubbing his balls. Olivier panted, scrabbling against the sheets.
He felt vulnerable. His nerves sang with pleasure.
No one else had touched him like this, all careful hands, learning the things he liked. No one except Eric.
“Eric,” Olivier gasped, his body wringing tight. He bucked his hips; Eric’s strokes grew faster, until he, too, smelled like musk.
Then Olivier came, spurting shamelessly onto his brother’s hand, and the pleasure tore a strangled cry from his throat.
For a while, everything felt good. Olivier floated in his post-orgasm haze, collapsing against the towels, just breathing in cedar and musk. Someone’s hand stroked him, down his thighs, swirling around his sensitive cock. Eric.
Eric with his roguish smile, Eric with his patient eyes, his unwavering devotion.
Then Olivier remembered Eric’s family, and Eric hating him. Now that the enema fluid was entirely inside him... it had probably shaken loose all of Eric’s seed. When Olivier sat on the toilet later, Eric’s seed—his baby—would wash away.
Olivier whimpered, the horror of that sinking in.
So maybe he did want Eric’s baby. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the pill, or done the enema. All his life, he’d wanted a family, and now he’d lose his chance at it, just like that.
Olivier choked, clutching at the towel.
“What’s wrong?” Eric asked, leaning in close.
Olivier shook his head, too distraught to speak. He couldn’t tell Eric about wanting the baby. They were brothers.
“Everything’s wrong,” Olivier croaked, his face crumpling. He crawled away from Eric, whimpering when the enema fluid leaked out of him.
Eric looked. Olivier groaned, pulling his wet leg away from Eric. It was shameful, the contents of his intestines spilled all over himself. And Eric had seen.
Olivier scrambled over to the toilet and sat down hard, tears brimming in his eyes. This wasn’t how he wanted Eric to remember him.
“Ollie?” Eric asked, worry in his voice.
Olivier bit his lip. Everything was wrong, worse than before. There was no way he could claw that pill out of his stomach. What if he called 911? Would that help?
Or did he deserve all of this?
“Ollie.” Eric knelt in front of him, cupping Olivier’s face in his hands. “Shh.”
“I can’t,” Olivier gasped, dread thick in his gut. He’d swallowed that pill. It was going to make his body reject any of Eric’s seed that remained, and... and Olivier had never wanted a baby this much before.
Should I really keep it?
“C’mon, Ollie.” Eric looked into Olivier’s eyes, touching Olivier’s nape. Then he pulled Olivier close, pressing their foreheads together. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“The baby,” Olivier croaked, touching his belly. He would lose it.
“It’s gonna go, isn’t it?” Eric frowned, confused.
That made Olivier cry harder. He almost said, I want that baby. Except if Eric ever found out, it would condemn him. And everyone else who knew... they would condemn Olivier, too.
“It’s a mess,” Olivier said, regret thick in his chest. “I can’t... It’s bad. It’s...”
“I’ll pay for everything, all right?” Eric stroked his fingers through Olivier’s hair. “If you need to go to the doctor, I’ll accompany you. And if you need an abortion, I’ll pay for that.”
It didn’t sound like he wanted the baby at all. Olivier groaned, hiding his face in Eric’s shoulder. Eric hugged him tight, the weight of his arms a comforting pressure.
What were the chances of Olivier keeping that baby? If it somehow survived... Eric could never find out about it.
“You should go,” Olivier said between sobs, his gut cramping. The liquid from the enema had begun to leak out, and Olivier didn’t want Eric here to witness it, didn’t want to imagine Eric’s seed flowing out of him.
If he could redo everything again... He would have acted differently.
Eric stroked Olivier’s hair, kissing Olivier’s jaw. Then he froze and looked away, as though he realized what he’d done. Ollie’s chest tightened. You don’t have to treat me like this just because you slept with me.
“Please go,” Olivier mumbled, looking at his feet.
Eric drew a deep breath, his hands tightening around Olivier’s face. “I want you to know that I’m here, all right?” He peered into Olivier’s eyes. “If you need anything... just call me.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Olivier sagged. “I’m just... I’m just someone from your past.”
“You’re my brother,” Eric murmured. “And you’re now my omega.”
Ollie’s heart fluttered. “I don’t want Dad to disown you. And your mom...”
Eric clenched his jaw. “I’ll deal with it.”
He didn’t look so certain, though. Olivier pushed lightly on his shoulder. “I’m fine. Go home, Eric. Your daughter needs you.”
“But you—”
“I’m fine.” Olivier straightened his shoulders, pasting on a smile. “I’m all grown up. I can take care of myself. So go back to your family, okay?”
Eric hesitated, his honest gaze raking over Olivier, as though he was trying to find the crack in Olivier’s facade. Olivier held the smile as long as he could, relaxing a little when Eric finally turned away.
“Fine,” Eric said. “But I’ll be in touch with you.”
He looked around the bathroom, finding a notepad that Olivier used for his grocery lists. Then he scribbled down his phone number, looked back, and reached out for Olivier. Olivier leaned away, even though his body screamed at him to huddle closer.
“Good night,” Ollie said.
He stared at Eric’s face, memorizing Eric’s kind eyes, his full lips, the broadness of his shoulders and chest. He was a good alpha. He deserved everything good, and pure, and wholesome. Everything that wasn’t Olivier.
Olivier swallowed hard, looking away.
It hurt like a knife, realizing he still loved his stepbrother in the way he absolutely shouldn’t.
“Night,” Eric rumbled.
Eric turned and left, the front door clicking shut.
Olivier allowed his misery to consume him then, hunching over. At least Eric wasn’t around to see that.
6
Eric
It went against all of his instincts, leaving Olivier in that apartment. When Olivier broke down in his bathroom, part of Eric had broken along with him. He didn’t know why. Just knew that with every step he took away from Olivier’s door, the weight in his heart grew.
And now, Olivier carried Eric’s bonding mark on his neck. Eric’s heart did a funny little jump.
If Alice were still alive... what would she have said?
Eric shoved his hands in his pockets, imagining her smirk. I told you, she’d have said in that sing-song voice. You always get so angry when I mention his name. It’s not like I can help it, okay? Facebook is asking if he’s my friend. Should he be?
And then his chest hurt, because he missed her, too. Not as an omega, but as a friend. Someone he could ask for help, someone who could tell him it was okay that he’d fucked up. Because he had. Big time.
He’d gone and slept with Ollie, and both times he’d touched Olivier... Ollie had felt right against him, where Alice never had.
Would Alice have begrudged him for it? He’d tried his best to be an alpha to her, but he’d known, from the start, that it wasn’t the same as what he’d felt toward Olivier a long time ago.
Eric rubbed his eyes, unlocking his car. Was this cheating? But Alice was dead, wasn’t she?
Or had Eric just been using Olivier as a replacement?
Why’d you have to die, Alice? Why didn’t we head out of the house an hour earlier like I asked? Why did I have to crash that car?
The grief threatened to swallow him again. Eric breathed in deep, and thought about Olivier. So he didn’t feel like drowning.
Then he touched the gold band on his ring finger, and his stomach shrank into a hard lump.
He hadn’t even removed that ring when he’d fucked Olivier. Eric wanted to close his eyes and pull a pillow over his head. How did I fuck up this bad?
Not only had Alice died at his hands, but now he’d gone and slept with Ollie, too. With his wedding ring still on.
Eric groaned, frustrated and disappointed and disgusted with himself.
It had to be his hormones. That was it.
By the time Eric pulled into his parents’ driveway, he wasn’t sure he should be there, either. How did you tell your parents, I just fucked my brother? You couldn’t.
And now... they’d be able to smell Olivier on him, too.
His stomach clenched. Eric pulled open his glove box, looking for a scent suppressant. He found a barely-used bottle, spritzing it all over his clothes until it stung his eyes.
Should’ve rented an apartment for a week, instead of staying with his parents.
He hadn’t found a place in Meadowfall he wanted yet. His job at Total Sounds was to oversee both branches, maybe even open a third if business was successful.
So... if he got a place here, it would be pretty damn permanent. And with Jenn at nine months old, he wanted a baby-proof place, somewhere safe for her. For now... Eric was staying with his parents. So he wasn’t killing himself trying to care for his daughter, too.
Eric trudged up to the front door. His parents had moved since he’d gone to college. They’d finally found a single family home, leaving behind that apartment with the fire escape on one end of the building.
That previous place... it brought back memories. Like a Black Forest cake in the fridge, and a stolen kiss high above the lamplit roads.
Eric unlocked the door, sniffing at himself. There was still musk on him, and cedar. And faintly, carnation.
It was late, though—11PM. The house was silent, except the kitchen light was on. Eric shut the front door behind himself, sniffing. The air smelled like roasted pork, and a mix of other scents—his mother’s morning glory, his father’s padauk, his brothers’ maplewood and pine.
He padded upstairs first, to the bedroom he was sharing with Jenn. Shadows pooled in the room, with the faint orange of streetlamps seeping through the window.
Eric stopped at Jenn’s cot, wiping his hands off before he scooped her into his arms. She smelled slightly like soap, and she was warm, her hair soft against his fingertips. Jenn stirred a little. Then she fell back asleep, as though she’d had a long day.
Eric’s heart unclench
ed. Jenn still needed him. She’d been his anchor after Alice died.
After a whole day apart from her, it was comforting to just hold her against his chest, feel the soft rise and fall of her breathing.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Missed you today.”
She mumbled like she was sleep talking, and Eric cheered up a little.
It was complex, caring for her. Sometimes he needed her too much to let go, and sometimes, even the sight of her broke his heart—she looked like Alice, with her red hair and green eyes.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then set her gently back in her cot. Watched her for a few moments longer, before he made his way down to the kitchen.
Cole stepped out through the kitchen doorway, his blond eyebrows rising. “Eric! Didn’t hear you.”
Eric shrugged. “Just got home. I went upstairs to check on Jenn.”
Cole was his blood-brother, Olivier’s stepbrother. If it weren’t for their eyes, Cole and Eric would’ve looked almost the same.
Cole sipped from his mug. “Yeah, Jenn’s asleep. Cried like a banshee most of the day. Some of us go to bed at 10AM, you know. I’m doing a 24-hour shift tomorrow.”
With the way he worked full days at the fire station... Cole really did need that sleep. Eric winced. “Sorry.”
Cole shrugged. “You owe me a better set of earplugs.”
“I’ll get you a pair.”
Cole surveyed him. Then his nostrils flared, and Eric was too aware of the carnation and musk on his body.
Cole narrowed his eyes. “I thought Alice passed away last month.”
Eric sighed. “Can we not talk about this?”
“Smells familiar,” Cole said, looking pointedly at Eric. “Okay, I’m not judging. Just sayin’. Feels like I’ve smelled that before.”
Of course you have. It’s Ollie. Eric looked away so Cole could read his discomfort. Cole was younger than Olivier by four years, so he’d been twelve when Olivier presented as omega. But right now wasn’t the time to ask, When did you last see Ollie?
Not with the smell of sex clinging to his skin.
Stepbrother's Secret Page 5
