Stepbrother's Return | CH. 8

Cucked by my stepbrother...

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING:

This story contains explicit gay sexual content, infidelity, taboo family dynamics, and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Previously: CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 3 | CH. 4 | CH. 5 | CH. 6 | CH. 7

Chapter Eight

I tugged my slacks back into place and adjusted my shirt with shaky hands. Herald handed me a glass of whiskey from his minibar, the amber liquid catching the dim light of the executive suite. We stood by the window, the San Francisco skyline sprawling beneath us like a glittering lie.

Herald’s demeanor had shifted.

There was a softness in his gaze, a rare crack in his usual armor of control.

“You okay, Charlie?” he asked, voice almost tender.

I took a long sip, the burn grounding me. “I don’t know. This…all of this. It’s a fucking mess.” I stared into the whiskey, avoiding his eyes. “Maybe I should tell Leroy. Get it off my chest. End it…clean as I can.”

Herald leaned against the window frame, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “Getting rid of that weight is a good idea. You’ve been dragging it around too long.”

He paused, sipping his drink, then added, “Do it tonight. Rip the Band-Aid off. No more hiding.”

I nodded, the decision settling like lead in my gut. “Tonight.”

*** *** ***

Hours later, I stood in my cramped kitchen, the sizzle of chicken in the pan mixing with the yapping of our chihuahua, Chickpea, at my heels. I wasn’t much of a cook, Leroy usually handled that task, but I needed to keep my hands busy, to delay the inevitable.

The weight of what I was about to do pressed down on me, suffocating, as I stirred the sauce with a wooden spoon.

Every clink of the pan felt like a countdown to disaster.

The front door clicked open, and Chickpea bolted toward it, barking their head off.

I froze, gripping the spoon tighter, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Leroy’s voice floated in, cheerful as ever. “Hey, babe, smells good in here.”

Horror struck through me as I turned the corner—

It was not just Leroy standing in the doorway…

Herald was standing right next to him.

Gorgeous masculinity and all casual charm personified in a tailored jacket, holding a bottle of wine like he belonged here.

My stomach dropped through the fucking floor.

Leroy grinned, oblivious, setting his bag down. “So, this is your boss? Why didn’t you tell me you invited him over for dinner?”

I forced a smile, my throat tight as I scrambled for control. “Yeah, uh, surprise. Thought it’d be…nice.”

My eyes darted to Herald, who gave me a smile like nothing was out of the ordinary.

He was enjoying this too damn much.

“Food about done, babe?” Leroy asked.

“Uh, yeah, just gotta plate it.”

“Let’s eat then, I’m starving,” Leroy clapped Herald on the shoulder like they were old pals. “Hope you like Charlie’s cooking. He’s usually shit at it.”

Herald chuckled, his gaze locked on me. “I’m sure it’ll be…memorable.”

*** *** ***

Dinner was a fucking nightmare.

We sat at the small dining table, plates of chicken and rice in front of us, Chickpea curled up under Leroy’s chair.

I couldn’t taste a damn thing. My nerves were frayed to threads as I downed glass after glass of wine—way more than I should’ve.

Leroy chatted about his latest art project, oblivious to the tension radiating off me.

Herald, meanwhile, was a master of whatever game this was for him, laughing at Leroy’s jokes, asking questions, playing the perfect guest. Every so often, his eyes would catch mine, sharp and expectant, a silent ‘tell him.’

I could feel the weight of his challenge, the unspoken push to spill everything right here, right now.

I couldn’t do it.

My fork scraped against the plate, my mind screaming at me to just say it, to end this charade, but my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth.

The chair scraped across the tile as Leroy stood suddenly. “I need to go hit the bathroom, I’ll be right back, I wanna hear all about what you two get up to at work.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell you what a good job your boyfriend has been doing,” Harold purred and winked.

Leroy seemed to think nothing of it, as he padded down the hall and out of sight.

The air shifted.

Herald stood, rounding the table with that predatory grace of his, and before I could react, his hands were on my shoulders, kneading the tension there with strong, deliberate thumbs.

My body betrayed me, leaning into the touch even as panic clawed at my chest.

“Why the fuck did you come here?” I hissed, keeping my voice low, my eyes darting toward the hallway. “I was gonna tell him on my own.”

Herald leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “Thought you might need some encouragement, Charlie. I’m here to help.”

His lips brushed my neck in a possessive kiss.

“It’s fucking worse with you here,” I snapped, but my voice wavered, my body already reacting to his proximity.

I hated how much I wanted him, even now.

“You can do this,” he whispered, lips grazing my ear again. “And I’ll be right here to hold you after.”

“Leroy could walk in any second,” I muttered, my heart racing, torn between fear…and the sick thrill of getting caught.

Herald’s chuckle was dark, dangerous. “Let him watch.”

“What the fuck? No,” I said, but the words lacked conviction.

My cock twitched at the thought, the taboo of it lighting a fucked-up fire in me.

Herald’s hand slid down my chest, then lower, grabbing the bulge in my jeans with a firm, knowing grip. My eyes drifted closed as a quiet moan escaped my lips.

“Don’t lie to me, Charlie. You’re hard just thinking about it.”

“What the fuck?” Leroy’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and raw.

I froze, my blood turning to ice as I looked up to see Leroy, my boyfriend, standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. God knows how long he’d been there, watching.

“Leroy, I’m sorry,” I stammered, shoving Herald’s hand away as I stood.

Herald didn’t back off. His hand clamped down on my shoulder, firm and possessive, staking his claim right in front of Leroy. “Easy, Charlie.”

Leroy’s face twisted, hurt and anger warring in his expression. “I knew it. I fucking knew something was off.”

I took a step toward him, hands out, desperate to fix this. “Leroy, please, let me explain—”

“Get away from me!” He snapped, stepping back, his voice trembling with rage.

Herald’s tone hardened, cutting through the tension. “Don’t talk to my brother like that.”

Leroy blinked, confused, his eyes darting between us. “What the hell do you mean?”

I opened my mouth, the words sticking in my throat. “He’s my…”

“Stepbrother,” Herald finished for me, voice smooth and unapologetic, “and lover.”

Shame gripped me like a vise, squeezing until I could barely breathe.

I forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. “We became stepbrothers as adults, then…lovers. It’s complicated. And—and I’m so fucking sorry it’s hurting you.”

Leroy stared at us, his face a storm of emotions…

Then he muttered, “I need a fucking drink.”

He grabbed a bottle of tequila from the bar, unscrewed the cap, and took a long, hard slug straight from it.

Herald raised an eyebrow, looking oddly impressed. “Hand me the bottle.”

Leroy hesitated, his jaw tight, glaring at Herald like he might chuck the bottle at his head instead.

But after a tense moment, he passed it over.

Herald took a huge gulp, wincing as he swallowed. “Cheap shit.”

“Fuck you,” Leroy shot back, his voice dripping with venom.

Herald handed the bottle to me, and I took a big gulp, the burn doing nothing to ease the chaos in my head. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. The room felt like it was closing in.

“Look,” Herald said, his tone shifting, smooth and almost…soothing, as he addressed Leroy. “I wouldn’t take it personally. Charlie and I have shit going way…way back. Buried deep.”

Leroy’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t take it personally? We’ve been personally living together for years!”

Herald stepped closer to Leroy, his presence commanding the room as he moved with that predatory ease.

I stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as he worked his magic, a master of manipulation.

“I get it, man. You’re pissed. You’ve got every right to be. But let’s be real—there’s a part of you that’s curious, isn’t there? Wondering what Charlie sees in me.”

Leroy scoffed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe. “You’re full of shit.”

“Am I?” Herald’s voice dropped lower, a velvet rasp as he stepped even closer, standing just behind him, not touching but close enough that his breath had to be hot on Leroy’s neck. “You’ve seen how Charlie looks at me. I make him fall apart. I bet you want that. You’d like to know what it’d feel like to let go, to have someone take control.”

Leroy swallowed hard, his posture stiff but not pulling away. “You’re fucking insane.”

Herald’s lips curled into a smirk, his tone teasing but laced with heat. “Maybe. But I’m right. I can smell it on you, Leroy. You’re imagining it right now—my hands on you, making you forget all this bullshit. Making you feel something real, for once.”

Leroy’s breathing hitched, his hands balling into fists at his sides, but he didn’t step away. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Don’t I?” Herald whispered, leaning in just a fraction more, his voice dripping with promise. “I know you’re hard right now, just from the thought. I know you’re fighting it, but you don’t have to. All you’ve gotta do is say the word. Do you want me to touch you?”

Leroy’s wide eyes flicked to me for a split second, he looked scared…but then his gaze changed. That look was something I hadn’t seen on him before. Determination?

Leroy turned around to face Harold directly and said, “yes.”

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