What I said is true. I do like Bradley a lot; which is why I'm confused when I find myself pulling into Whittney's driveway soon after the date. There's this burning need to see him, as if there is nothing more important than letting him know how much I was into Bradley, how well the date went, and how I kissed him. With tongue.

The car is off, but my brain is still running at a hundred miles an hour. A bucket load of questions fuel my need for answers when I storm to his front door with a firm knock. The fact that it's late doesn't really occur to me until an angry bedhead-Jeremy answers the door. He's upset at first, but his lips curve sadistically when his sleepy brain realizes who I am.

"Little Harry. What can I do for you?" He leans against the door with crossed arms. "Don't tell me. You're here to get fucked."

My eyes widen considerably as I stare at him helplessly. "What?"

Jeremy's chuckle makes my cheeks heat up. "I bought the whole fam Molly. Here to partake, right? I take it Whittney let you know he scored. Kid deserved it after bringing a big load in for me this month."

"He's dealing for you?"

He nods. "Oh, did he not tell you?"

"Jay." The growl comes from behind, Whittney's voice anything but calm.

Jeremy wraps his around his brother's shoulders, causing Whittney to visibly shrink. With a deep breath, he shakes his older brother off, who laughs in response. Someone is in a good mood today, and sometimes he's scarier when happy. Means he becomes playful, and it can be dangerous not to play along.

"We're going to my room," Whittney huffs, clearly not in the same playful mood.

Surprisingly, Jeremy lets the attitude slide. He must really be in a good mood.

Once we are safely behind the walls of his room, my teeth let go of the hold on my twitching tongue. "Is it true? You've been dealing for you brother?"

The hard look in Whittney's eyes he had moments ago is fading, his punk ass even smiling like an idiot. Molly. That had to be it. He must have taken it shortly before I got here and now it's kicking in.

"Yeah," he finally replies. "So what?"

"You told me you weren't."

"I guess I lied."

"I guess so."

"Don't be mad." He smirks, taking a step forward. When I take a step back, he narrows his eyes. "Come on, Hare. It's not like I have a choice. Besides, I'm on Molly right now and I can't think of anything else I want to do other than fucking you."

My dick twitches, but I take another step back when he tries to remove the distance between us. "No."

He smiles deviously as if my objection is a challenge. "You're telling me no?"

His throaty chuckle stirs something powerful in my groin. Two more steps backward and my back connects with the closet door. My eyes look at his lips, barely an inch apart from mine. They become wet as he licks them and it takes everything I have not to lean into his seduction. When I stay frozen, he tries something else.

I gasp when he presses his hard-on against my leg. He gets a hold of my hips, using his grip to help him grind up and down.

"I like Bradley." I blurt, and he stops on the spot.

Big eyes look up at me through long lashes, a devious look filling them. His lips - oh God, those lips - almost graze mine when he grabs my neck to pull himself closer. Hot breath fans my lips and my knees go weak and I can feel my balls tighten.

"We had a date," I pant. Internally, I'm kicking myself for sounding so needy. "I really like him."

Saying it for a twice didn't make a difference. Whittney doesn't let up, but I don't push him away either. I can't.

Those same hot lips graze my ear. "What are you doing here then, huh?"

His eyes meet mine and I know in that moment, I'm a goner. I crash my lips to his. Hot need pulses in my veins when I fist my fingers in his ragged hair, pulling hard. Whittney hisses in through clenched teeth and a part of me relishes in his pained noise. My hips throb when Whittney squeezes them, but there is something about the roughness that is so intoxicating. When I try to take the lead, I'm rewarded by him shoving me against the door, reminding me he's still in charge. It's so demanding and sexy, even though a part of me wants to continue fighting back to do the same.

It's a never ending fight for dominance, but I let it slide a second time.

His tongue invades my mouth and I tense when his hand cups the bulge in my pants. He didn't touch me like this the last time. When he starts to rub me, I lose it. A loud moan threatens to burst through my throat, but Whittney uses his other hand to cover my mouth.

The jiggling of the door handle creates an instant chasm between us. Whittney is already sitting on his bed when his brother enters the room. That unsettling smirk of his face is unwavering, even after seeing the aftermath of what so obviously was a heavy makeout session.

If he realizes what he just walked in on, he doesn't show it.

"I'm heading out for the night," he says, leaning against the doorway. "I'll be home sometime in the afternoon, but Mike should be home before morning if his worthless ass doesn't pass out somewhere. I locked mom in her room so she won't look through my shit, so don't let her out unless you wanna babysit."

Whittney just nods.

"Later."

"Later," Whittney mumbles.

The front door slams and he's on me instantly, pushing me on the bed.

We have sex twice that night. Each time hurting less than before and each orgasm more intense. I definitely understand why bottoms are so into it, but it bugs me that Whittney hasn't let me top him yet. Next time, I'll bring it up, but for now, I enjoy the comfort of his strong arms around me.

Sleeps pulls at my eyes at the sound of his even breaths. He always sounds so at peace when he's sleeping, like the problems that run his life hold no weight.

For a moment, I think I see the door opening out of the corner of my eye, but sleep takes me before it can register.

The next morning, Whittney is still at my side. He's asleep on his back, snoring like a fiend, but I'm glad he's still here. Waking up alone the last time wasn't a good feeling.

I push the thought away and turn on my side to gaze at him. Part of me feels like a stalker for watching him sleep, but he's so cute that I can't help myself. He's wearing only boxers, only one leg covered by the thin blanket and his chest on display. When he starts to mumble, I try my best to decipher what he says, but it's all nonsense words. A small laugh creeps up my throat when the only discernible word breaks free.

'Motherfucker.'

Usually, his dreams consist of nothing but nightmares, but I don't dare wake him since he seems to be liking this one.

I jump at the sound of my ringtone and quickly search for my phone when Whittney starts to stir. He's already rubbing his eyes when I locate it, so I look at the caller before hanging up.

Mom.

Even though I won't hear the end of it when I get home, I let her go to voicemail.

Ignoring the problem for later, I turn back to face a disgruntled Whittney with a smile. "Good morning."

He turns on his stomach and hides his face in the crook of his elbow. "No good mornings. I feel like shit."

"You always feel like shit after Molly."

"Let me complain about being miserable. Fuck, I need a cigarette." He turns over onto his back and lights one before offering me a drag, but I decline. "Open the window, would'ya?"

When I get up, the blanket fall and I realize I never put my underwear back on last night. I'm about to grab the blanket to quickly cover myself but up again in fear the Whittney will freak out, but he only smirks at me before inhaling deeply. I open the window and feel a tight grip around my wrist before I'm yanked back down on the bed. Whittney's face is maybe an inch away from mine when he chuckles, but his smile fades when he looks deep into my eyes, then down to my lips, and then he leans back on his pillow.

With much hesitation, I slowly inch my way closer to him. He doesn't stop me, although his abs tense up, but I don't back down until my head is resting on his chest. It rises and falls with uneasy breaths, but the closeness isn't making him freak out. Only a very deep inhale of his cigarette is his response.

Slowly, his heartbeat starts to slow when he breathes out and I smile before closing my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes again, Whittney has my phone in his hand and is scrolling through a text. Bradley's name at the top of the screen sends me into a panic, but Whittney reacts quickly when I try to get it back, stretching his arm out of my reach.

"Had such an amazing time last night," Whittney reads in an exaggerated tone. "You truly are something special... heart, heart."

I practically climb over him to pry my phone out of his hands.

"Awe, how sweet." His voice is dripping with sarcasm before he turns to me. "Does your boy toy know that I've fucked you three times already?"

"No." I suddenly feel awful. "He doesn't."

He looks very pleased with himself when he hands me my phone back. After he leaves the room with a towel in hand, I'm left with only my thoughts and the sound of the shower running.

***

I hope you guys enjoyed the update! Luckily, it didn't take me too long to write this chapter. We are slowly catching up to the BMR main storyline, but it'll still take a bit. This story will also likely carry on into the storyline of the sequel as well, at least, that's the plan.

Don't forget to leave any comments you may have in the space below, and maybe even give the chapter a like if it's worthy! (: Next on the update list is the Epilogue of BMR, so keep an eye out!

Until next time,

TheWriterD