Page 3 of Sweet Surrender
Realizing I haven’t responded to Reggie’s statement, I sift through my thoughts for the right words. “Reggie, we’ll talk about this later. Enjoy your birthday.”
“No, we’re definitely talking about this now. Not everyone is here and I can see you’ve got that stupid brooding face on. Share with the class.”
Reggie’s going to drink himself into a stupor after this conversation. “Fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you try to blame your brothers for your shortcomings. You treat your family like they owe you their time and attention. Axel left because you were overbearing. He needed a brother, not another parent. And Wyatt? He’s a sweet, tortured man who has a hard time being around you because you can’t respect his boundaries. He doesn’t ask for much and you still give him nothing.” It actually hurts to see Reggie so disrespectful. If Wyatt wasn’t so sweet, he would have cut Reggie off a long time ago.
My best friend snorts again, grabbing my beer to chug. He lets out a wild belch before someone across the lawn yells ‘good one!’. “Wyatt isn’t sweet, not with shoulders like that. However, you definitely like him or some shit because you’re always around when he is.”
Reggie isn’t wrong but I’m also always around because someone needs to advocate for the man.
“My brother is off limits, James.”
As he has said many times, not that I’ve ever listened. Well, I tried to be respectful when we were much younger but it was so fucking hard watching Wyatt in his senior year. And then when he left for the military without so much as a goodbye, it nearly broke my heart. I thought that was his way of telling me this couldn’t work. The day he came back, though, things changed. He sought my attention, the soft words of affection, and the gentle touches.
“Reggie, you always say the same thing.” I push to my feet, ready to escape this conversation as more people show up. “You don’t want any of your friends dating your brother but I’ll tell you this. You don’t get to dictate who your brother chooses. I’ll also tell you that if you keep trying to tell Wyatt what he can and can’t do, he’ll leave just like Axel did.” If Wyatt isn’t able to pull away, I’ll help him. He doesn’t deserve the disrespect he cops around his brother.
Reggie’s face scrunches up as he stumbles to his feet. He pokes me in the chest several times before speaking. “I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating. Axel-”
“No. If you want to talk about this, we’ll do it sober. Just know that Wyatt and Axel are not your fucking kids. They’re your brothers. You want to look out for them? Great. Start by respecting some fucking boundaries.” I stomp off to the cooler, needing another beer. This night is going to delve into madness, a few of my fraternity brothers I recognize yelling my name. I sift easily into my college persona, a goofy grin spreading across my lips as I embrace them.
This will be my last party. I can feel it.
I can’t keep up the ruse anymore—that I care about what happened in college or that I enjoy reminiscing about days when we were younger.
My life is wrapped around that man inside the kitchen.
And I need him like I need water.
He gives me something no one else has.
His submission.
In a life where I feel wildly out of control, Wyatt offers me himself behind closed doors. He is mine to pleasure, to hold, and to take apart.
And watching as grown men stomp around the backyard like we’re 20, I silently apologize to Wyatt.
I think I’m going to need more than a fucking cuddle tonight.
Chapter 3
WYATT
“Stop wearing such tight pants,” Jameson grunts. He’s kneeling by my childhood bed as he struggles to undress me. It’s nearly midnight, the man half drunk, eyes unfocused even as he’s trying to take care of me. As the night continued on, Jameson stepped into the kitchen and pulled me up here. He realized all too quickly that I was over my social limit, veering on the edge of a panic attack as Reggie’s friends slipped in and out of the kitchen.
Now, I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, watching Jameson frustrate himself as he undresses me. He has always taken care of me but it’s funnier now with his lack of coordination. I tried to help a few moments ago but he just glared at me before fumbling with my belt again.
“Just give me a minute, alright?” Jameson blows out a deep breath, blinking rapidly as he stares at my cock. It thickens beneath his attention, pressing against my zipper. He cracks a small smile, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Jameson doesn’t play into his college persona often like my brother and his other friends do. I haven’t seen Jameson this drunk in years which means something is bothering him. His pale green eyes hold pain that wasn’t there a few hours ago. When Jameson reaches for the button on my jeans, I stay his hands. “Talk to me, Jay.”
His face scrunches up as he debates whether to fight my grip or listen to me. His shoulders sag as his head angles up, our eyes meeting. “I don’t want to talk about him in this room, okay? Reggie doesn’t get it. I’m not sure he ever will.”
“You don’t think he’ll ever accept us?”
“I don’t think he’ll ever understand that his brand of protection is just self-centered control. I’m afraid that he will lose you too, that he won’t understand until everyone’s gone.”
I haven’t thought about it that way. Reggie pushed Axel away. That argument was brutal. My older brother didn’t learn, though. He’s still trying to control my choices or tell me what to do. It doesn’t stick; I’m my own man but it doesn’t hurt any less when he tells me that he’s disappointed in me. I used to look up to him.
Not anymore.