Book 2: Cabin of Sin

The tires crunched on the gravel as I pulled up to the old family cabin, dust swirling behind my beat-up car. I killed the engine and stepped out, stretching my stiff back after the long drive. The place looked the same, deep in the woods, surrounded by tall pines, air thick with the smell of earth and resin. Summer break. Finally.

Then I saw him.

Ryan stood in the clearing beside the cabin, shirtless, sweat glistening on his broad, muscled back. The axe came down hard, splitting a log clean in two with a sharp crack. He was bigger than I remembered. Taller. Shoulders wide, abs carved from years of whatever the hell he did now. At twenty-five, my stepbrother looked like he belonged on one of those outdoor magazines.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re already here.”

Ryan turned, axe resting on his shoulder, and wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. His eyes locked on me, dark and intense. “Well, well. Look who finally showed up, little Jordan. Mom and Dad said you might bail.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I grabbed my bag from the trunk and slammed it shut. “Didn’t know you’d beat me to it. Thought you were too busy with your tough-guy shit to come back to this dump.”

He smirked, dropping the axe and walking toward me. “Dump? This ‘dump’ was our spot growing up. Or did you forget all the summers you tagged along behind me like a lost puppy?”

I rolled my eyes and headed for the cabin door. “Yeah, before you turned into a complete asshole and started acting like you owned the place. Move on, Ryan. I’m not in the mood for your crap today.”

The tension between us had been building for years, stupid fights, him pushing me around, me resenting how he always got away with everything. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar scent of wood and old furniture hitting me.

But Ryan followed right behind, his heavy footsteps close on my heels. “You never could handle a little teasing, could you? Always running off to hide.”

“Fuck off,” I snapped, dropping my bag in the living room and heading straight for the bedroom I used to claim as mine. I slammed the door behind me, heart pounding. The long drive, the stress from finals, and now him, it was too much.

I flopped onto the bed, breathing hard. My body felt wound tight. I needed release. Badly. I shoved my shorts down just enough, wrapped my hand around my already half-hard cock, and started stroking. Fast. Desperate. Eyes closed, trying to lose myself in the feeling.

The door creaked open.

“Still can’t even lock a damn door properly…” Ryan’s voice cut off.

I froze, hand still wrapped around my throbbing dick, shorts tangled around my thighs. He stood in the doorway, eyes wide for a second before they darkened, pupils blowing wide with something hungry.

“Shit…get out!” I tried to cover myself, face burning.

Ryan didn’t move. Instead, he stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him. “Jerking off the second you get here? Damn, Jordan. That desperate already?”

“Ryan, I swear to God…”

He laughed low, but there was no humor in it. His gaze dropped to my cock, still hard and leaking in my fist. “Look at you. All worked up. What’s got you so horny, little brother? Thinking about me out there chopping wood?”

“Shut up,” I hissed, but my hand hadn’t moved. My cock twitched under his stare.

He moved fast. In two strides he was on the bed, pinning me down with his heavy body. His bare chest pressed against mine, sweat and heat rolling off him. One big hand grabbed both my wrists and slammed them above my head.

“Get the fuck off me,” I growled, struggling underneath him. But he was stronger. So much stronger.

“Make me,” he whispered, face inches from mine. His breath was hot against my lips. Then he kissed me.

Hard.

His mouth crushed against mine, demanding, no gentleness at all. His tongue pushed inside, claiming me as he ground his hips down. I could feel how hard he was through his jeans, thick and pressing right against my bare cock.

“Mm…fuck…” I moaned into his mouth despite myself. The friction was insane. He rolled his hips again, grinding slow and dirty, his bulge rubbing along my shaft.

“You like that?” he growled against my lips, biting the bottom one. “Been wanting this for years, haven’t you? All that fighting, all that tension. You get hard every time I piss you off.”

I tried to deny it, but another thrust of his hips stole my words. Pleasure shot through me. I was leaking all over my stomach, making the slide easier, filthier.

“Ryan… shit… we can’t…”

“We can.” He kissed me deeper, tongue fucking my mouth while he kept grinding, faster now. The pressure built fast, unbearable. His free hand slid down, gripping my ass and pulling me tighter against him.

I was losing it. Moaning into the kiss, hips bucking up to meet every roll of his body. The fabric of his jeans felt rough against my sensitive skin, but it only made me crazier.

“Gonna cum just like this?” he taunted, breath ragged. “In your shorts like a desperate slut? Do it. Show me.”

I couldn’t hold back. With a broken moan, I came hard, shooting thick ropes across my stomach and chest while he kept grinding through it, drawing out every pulse.

Ryan pulled back slightly, breathing heavy, eyes wild with lust as he stared down at the mess I’d made. His cock was still rock hard against me.

He leaned in close, voice low and dangerous.

“We’re not leaving this cabin until I fuck you raw tonight.”