Reluctantly You (Our Exception Book 3)

Mitch

Fuck, I shouldn’t be following him to this restaurant. I’m feeling all sorts of confused as I sit in my car, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

The way he pressed into me earlier, the way his body felt against mine.

I just imagined that big dick of his pushing inside of me, stretching me, making my eyes cross in pleasure. Damn dreams, making me all sorts of gay.

I glance down at my phone, the message Magnus sent me glaring up at me.

Fuck his awful timing.

Magnus

So, what have you been up to, big bro? Being a dick? Causing chaos?

I use my knee to drive, trying to make sure I don’t murder anyone, but also wanting to respond. Fuck, I can’t believe he’s still messaging me.

Me

Just being a dick. No chaos.

Magnus

Shame on the dick front. They are such fun though.

I stare down at his bold message and feel my body heat.

Shit.

I think about myself shoving my finger up my ass, fondling my sensitive prostate and nearly swerve into traffic. Fuck, I don’t want to go to dinner with Gideon. I don’t want to sit there chewing on food while my dick gets hard.

No. It won’t get hard.

Me

I like my own dick.

That’s a partial lie. I happen to like Gideon’s too. Fuck. Probably not. Just mostly.

Shit. I glance up and see the brake lights pierce my eyes and slam on my own. I lurch forward, my tires squealing as I take a deep breath. I almost rear-ended the person in front of me. Shit, the person in front of me is Gideon.

My mind suddenly goes to Gideon’s ass in the shower, and I find myself starting to hyperventilate.

Get your shit together, you bitch.

I follow him into a parking lot and stare down at my phone. Magnus has sent me a smirk emoji and I find my lips quirking up.

Why the fuck was I ever mean to him?

Yeah, I was an asshole. Still am. But I’m better, right? I have a cat now.

That has to mean something. But not better enough to confess that I might like someone else’s dick, too. I can barely fucking admit it to myself, let alone to any of my brothers.

I see Gideon stepping out of his car and I stare at him, the lean lines of his body, the way he moves. He’s stronger than he looks, bigger than me, too. The way he pressed into me over that desk.

A small whimper escapes me.

Fuck, I’m pathetic.

I adjust my dick and step out of my car, striding toward Gideon with a purpose. That’s a lie too. I feel no purpose. I mostly just feel feeble and confused.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. I need to fucking pull it together.

“You drive like a teenager,” he says, and I clench my teeth.

“You were braking all the time, like a maniac, so I had to drive cautiously.”

He scoffs and meets my gaze. “I think your mind was on something else.”

My mind flashes again to being bent over the desk, his cock pressed against my ass.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything except your bad driving.”

His lips twitch and he presses a hand to my lower back, guiding me inside the restaurant.

I fucking hate that he’s leading me around like some kind of dog. Like I need a collar and a leash.

The thought makes my cock jump again, and I shrivel slightly. What the hell is wrong with me? It has to be some kind of mid-life crisis. An identity crisis at least.

As soon as we enter the restaurant, some kind of Greek place I’ve never been to before, I see Shiloh in a bright pink shirt sitting next to the guy I saw wrapped around Gideon last week.

My body hesitates slightly, but Gideon’s fingers curl into my lower back and he pushes me forward a little rougher. He really wants me to eat dinner.

When we arrive at the table, he pulls out a chair for me like I’m his date, and I sink into it, knowing I’m blushing like a nervous schoolboy. God, this is worse than a first date.

This isn’t even a fucking date. I’m not his type.

Shiloh smiles softly at me, almost pitying, as Gideon takes a seat next to me, his arm brushing against mine. If he reaches out and puts his hand on my thigh, I’m fucking leaving.

“So glad you’re here,” Shiloh says to me. “Unexpected, but very welcome.”

I nod and then turn to look at the other guy. He looks cute in his flowing pastel purple shirt, his hair braided on either side of his head. Almost like a girl, but…hotter.

“This is Rory,” Gideon says, and I pick up a water glass and sip on it quietly.

Bite your tongue. Bite it so fucking hard.

I did it with Matt and Max at dinner. I can do it again.

“Rory, this is Mitchell.”

Rory holds out his hand, and I startle slightly at the gesture before shaking it quickly.

“Hi, Mitchell. So nice to meet you. Gideon’s told me so much about you.”

My eyes flash to his, they’re pretty, almost violet in the dim lighting. I can see why Gideon is infatuated with him.

Damn pretty man.

“Yeah, thanks.” I don’t believe his words though. Gideon’s not talking about me to anyone. Rory is just being…nice.

Disgusting really. He won’t make it out in the world like this.

You have to be tough, Mitch. No one likes a fucking pussy.

My eyes sting slightly, and I take another sip of my water, swallowing roughly.

“So, have you been here before?” Shiloh asks me, and I shake my head.

“No.”

“Oh, you’re going to love it,” Shiloh says, and I can see Rory nodding.

“They have really good Greek meze, and my god, their hummus is to die for.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I reply, keeping my conversation light and simple. No one wants to hear what I have to say anyways. Even if it is about cheese and olives.

“Would you like something to drink?” Gideon asks and hands me a menu.

I stare down at it, my eyes skimming over the selection of drinks.

“I’ll take an old fashioned,” I reply, and Gideon nods his approval. For some reason, that makes my heart flutter in my chest.

“Oh good choice. Very manly,” Rory says with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Me, not so much. I’ll take a strawberry lemon drop. You, Shiloh?”

“Oh, just a water for me. After this, I’m headed over to the scrapyard to do some more work.”

Gideon huffs and Rory leans forward. “Oh, do tell. Tell me all about these sexy guys.”

I shift in my seat, peering over at the two of them. Shiloh is blushing, his cheeks now matching his shirt. “Well, there is Caleb and Sem, they’re both very nice guys, but taken. Very taken.”

My eyes slash to his. Fuck. Sem? There aren’t many people around here named that. Oh my god. Have they talked about me? Do I ever come up in conversation? Shit. Shit!

Rory waves his hand around, as if asking him to continue, but before Shiloh can, the waiter comes and we place our drink orders. Gideon requests two appetizers, meze and hummus, and it seems Shiloh thinks he’s gotten out of his previous conversation, but Rory hasn’t let it go.

“Okay, back to it,” Rory prods, his eyes intent on Shiloh. “There’s someone else. I can tell.”

“I hate you,” Shiloh hisses and then rolls his eyes. “Fine, there are a few more employees. Colton and Hunter, and also Axel.”

The way he says that last name, the sigh in his voice, makes Gideon let out a knowing chuckle.

“So we know who you’re interested in. Axel. What a hot, buff name.”

“I’m not interested in him. He’s straight and way out of my league. Plus he’s younger than me. I’m an old man. Basically dead soon.”

I let out a snort at that, and Shiloh grins at me. “See, Mitch agrees.”

“No, you’re not old,” I say, weighing my words carefully.

“Oh, you’re just trying to flatter me,” he says, batting his eyelashes. Makes me shift nervously in my chair, but Gideon reaches out and links his foot with mine, making something crimson flare up within me.

“How old is Axel then?” Rory asks, his eyes intent on his friend.

“He’s twenty-five.”

“Oh, such a good age. Can I meet him?”

“Hell no,” Shiloh says and then pokes at him. “You’re far too pretty to ever meet any of them.”

Rory grins and then turns toward Gideon. “See, Shiloh thinks I’m pretty. Why did you never think that about me, Gideon?”

“Because you’re like a brother to me,” Gideon replies, and Rory huffs, leaning a little closer to me and saying, “I had the biggest crush on him when we first met. Not that he returned it. Said I was too young.”

“You weren’t interested in me,” Gideon replies. “Just the idea of me.”

Rory rolls his eyes and then sighs. “True. You’re quite old and terrible now.”

I peer over at Gideon and look at his soft grin. He’s not taking this personally at all. But I kind of am. Gideon isn’t at all that old or terrible-looking. In fact, he looks really…

I won’t even let myself go there. It’s bad enough that my body responds to him like a moth to a flame. That, for some reason, he’s the one making me want things. Terrible things.

My dick twitches happily in remembrance, and I shift in my chair once more, Gideon’s leg tightening on mine. He thinks I’m nervous, when in reality, I’m just aroused.

Fuck, I’m confused.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Everything. Everything is wrong with you.

The drinks are brought over and I gulp mine down, feeling slightly lightheaded from consuming the alcohol so fast.

Thankfully, the appetizers are brought over next and everyone digs in, my movements purposefully sluggish, trying not to behave like a barbarian in front of them all. It’s a wonder I’ve managed to keep my thoughts to myself, to not offend every single one of them in a matter of seconds.

Although, I’m not sure what thoughts I’m having. When I ponder it, I realize that nothing bad or negative is popping up. It’s all just…neutral, muddled shades of brown. I don’t feel strongly either way about sitting here with the three of them.

“What do you think?” Gideon asks me as I pop an olive between my lips.

“Good.”

He nods and then the three of them continue speaking. They try to include me, but I’m quiet, not quite sure how to add to the conversation. So, I spend a lot of time looking at the menu, trying to figure out what to eat, but come up short. I don’t know what I want.

It’s the dilemma of a century.

“I can order for you,” Gideon says lowly, and I peer over at him.

“Fuck off.”

His lips twitch and his leg tightens on me, pulling my chair a little closer to him. It screeches loudly, causing Shiloh and Rory to look over at us. Both of them fight back laughter as they watch us, and I feel my cheeks growing red.

Goddamn Gideon.

I’m shooting him a hateful look when my eyes catch on someone across the room.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

My dad. Shit, not my dad.

He’s not my dad.

My body slumps down, and I feel my heart rate pick up. My hands start to tingle and grow damp…and fuck, I feel lightheaded.

I haven’t seen him since the day I found out about us. He hasn’t made any effort to reach out. I peek over and he’s laughing happily with a younger man, someone my age. Have I been replaced? Is that what this is?

Visions of him helping me learn to ride a bike, tucking me in, teaching me to swim flash through my mind. How could it all mean nothing? All those years? All that time?

His eyes move over to mine and then move away just as fast, and it’s almost like I don’t exist. Like I never existed to him. All these years and I meant nothing. I’m nothing.

Without thinking, I push back my chair and stalk from the restaurant, my entire body shaking with something I can’t quite understand. I can’t explain it.

I hate him and I yearn for him. For him to love me.

“Mitchell,” Gideon’s voice says from behind me, and I pick up my pace, needing to get away. I swipe at my cheeks, my breath coming out in short, pathetic pants as I unlock my car. But before I can get inside, Gideon grabs on to me, turning and pushing me against the door.

“Where are you going?” he asks, angrily.

I can’t meet his gaze, my vision swimming. I can’t fucking breathe.

“Not hungry,” I manage to say.

Gideon’s hands tighten on my hips and he takes a step closer, his body pressed into mine. He must see it, see how pathetic I am, because his voice softens.

“What happened? Tell me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and fist my hands near my sides.

“My dad…”

Gideon stiffens against me, realization dawning.

“But he’s not my dad, is he? He’s not my fucking dad.” My words are pushed out of me, an admission even I can’t quite believe I’m making. “He won’t even look at me. He never loved me. Thirty-two years and it all meant nothing.”

Gideon’s hands tighten on me, digging into my sides, grounding me.

“I hate him. I fucking hate him,” I whisper and then find myself unable to inhale. “Can’t…breathe.”

His forehead hits mine and his hands slide up to cup my face. “Listen to me.”

I shake my head, but try to do as he says. Fuck…my world, it’s gone. It’s crumbled to dust and I can’t sweep up the pieces fast enough. They’re blown to the corners and disappearing into the air. My future, my hopes and dreams are all being pulled away from me.

“Breathe. Breathe,” he whispers softly. “Listen to me. Follow me.”

My hands move to his waist and I hold on to him tightly, worried that if I let go, I’ll be swept away as well.

“Good. Good boy,” he says gently, his thumbs smoothing over my cheeks. I can feel his breath on my lips, warm and sweet.

My heart rate slowly evens out and my breathing becomes regulated, and still he doesn’t let me go. Just continues to hold on to me. Anchoring me.

“You’re okay. You’re so fucking good,” he whispers and my eyelids flutter open, the lashes wet.

“Gideon?” My voice is hoarse and needy, a question. And then without thinking, I lean up and brush my lips across his.

He freezes, his lips soft against mine and then he presses forward, his mouth tilting against my own. His hand moves to my chin, cupping my beard, holding me in place.

It only ends when I slowly peel myself away.

His forehead is still on mine, our breath mingling.

I hate that he’s reduced me to this, that his lips felt so good.

“Fuck, fuck you,” I murmur and push forward, my lips meeting his again, harsher, more sure this time. My hands fist his shirt, pulling him into me, and his fingers slide into my hair, pulling roughly on the strands. His face tilts and his tongue slides into my mouth, making a small angry whimper escape me. I can’t do this.

I can’t fucking do this. I don’t like him, I don’t kiss men. I’ve never done this. But still, I let my tongue touch his and feel the sensation all the way to my balls. They clench tightly, and I feel the rapid fluttering of wings in my stomach.

God. Oh my god.

I grab on to him tighter, angrier the longer we kiss. I press my tongue to his and he bites down on my lip, making me moan.

Fuck, he’s not letting me win this, just digging his fingers into my jaw tighter and plundering.

He’s taking what he wants, just like he always does, with no consideration for anyone else. I widen my mouth and slash my tongue against his, our teeth clashing as he presses me roughly up against the car door. The cool metal bites into my back, and I feel it through the heat sizzling off my skin.

I’m on fire. I’m on fucking fire. Kissing another man.

Is this who I am?

Is this me?

I don’t know. I was never allowed to know.

I wrench my head away, my lips wet and swollen, my breathing coming out in frantic pants.

“You…fuck this,” I rasp, and Gideon’s lips twitch.

“Always so angry.”

My tongue peeks out and swipes my lips, tasting him there. I want to wipe it away, want to never taste it again, and yet I can’t erase what we did. I can’t fucking undo it.

“You can’t kiss me. You can’t kiss me…”

His hands fall from me, and he takes a step back from me.

“Don’t worry. Won’t happen again. Was shit anyways.”

My eyes narrow, and his lips twitch.

“Are you coming back inside?”

I shake my head, realization dawning on who’s still in there. Suddenly, my skin grows hot for another reason. What if he saw me out here, pressed up against Gideon, our lips smashed together? What if he saw who I really am?

If he didn’t want me before. He definitely won’t now.

“I can’t. I can’t look at him. I…”

My words trail off and I angrily swipe at my mouth, trying like hell to swallow down the sting of it.

I don’t even say another word, just pull open my car door and slip inside.

Gideon steps back as I put the car in drive and nearly screech out of the parking lot, not even looking back. I can’t look back.

Don’t fucking look.

When I finally make it home, I pick up Little Pants and push my face into her fur. She meows loudly, trying to get out of my desperate grip, and I realize that she’s hungry. I gently set her down and grab a can of wet food, putting it in her dish and listening as her little tongue laps at it.

My mind slashes to the kiss, the taste of Gideon. My trembling fingers move to my lips, and I hold my breath.

Oh fuck.

Why did I do that?

I sink to the ground and put my head in my hands.

Why did I like it?

As I sit there in my own self-pity, Little Pants comes up and sits in my lap, purring softly. The small rumbles calm me slightly, and I rub my fingers through her fur and lean my head against the wall, trying to regulate my thoughts.

It doesn’t work.

They keep flitting back to Gideon, how strong he is, the way his fingers bit into my skin as he held me. The way he kissed.

I don’t like him, and yet I want it again.

“What’s wrong with me, Little Pants?”

She just bites my hand, wanting more pets. I do it, obviously a slave for her, letting her purrs calm me even more.

How the hell am I going to face him?

I kissed him.

He kissed me back.

My heart flutters in my chest as I relive that moment over and over, like an endless movie reel. Black and white, bits and pieces of it filtering through my mind.

I sit there for ages, replaying it, until I hear a knock on my door and I scramble to my feet to pull it open.

Gideon. He’s standing there with a plastic bag in his hand, his knuckles looking slightly swollen and bruised.

Were they like that before?

“What the fuck happened to your hand?”

“Nothing. I just punched that fucker. You’re welcome.”

“You wh⁠—?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. Your dinner,” he says, holding up the bag and pushing his way past me.

My heart rate triples.

What the fuck?

“By all means, come in,” I murmur and then shut the door. I turn and watch as Little Pants rubs her cheeks against his pants and leaves an array of hair lingering there.

“Thought you might be hungry.”

I take it from him and set it on the kitchen counter, not sure what the hell to do now.

We stand there and the tension between us crackles.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as I move away from him, needing more space. But he just follows me, crowding me.

He cocks his head slightly and runs a hand down his face. “Shiloh insisted I give you a hug. Said you might need it.”

“Fuck off. I don’t need it.”

“Shiloh is rarely wrong,” he adds as he takes a step closer to me. Closer.

I hold my breath as he approaches, and when he stops an inch away from me, he pulls me into his chest. His hands move around my back, and I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder, just for a second before leaning back and shoving him away. Gideon barely moves, just steps closer and pulls me into him, my body now flush with his.

“Don’t push me around,” he hisses, and I feel my cock perk up at his nearness. “Just accept a fucking hug.”

“I don’t need it,” I say as he grabs on to me, forcing me back into another one, my face smashed into him. I inhale the scent of him, manly, rich. I hate it. Fucking despise it. Grunting, I try to wrestle away and manage for just a moment, before we fall to the couch, his body on mine.

“Get the fuck off,” I hiss, trying to push him off. But he doesn’t move, just presses into me, his hips grinding into mine as he grabs one of my hands, pushing it above my head. His eyes meet mine, flickering with anger.

“You can’t just let someone be kind to you, can you?”

I snap my neck up, knocking him in the forehead roughly with mine. Pain slices through my head and Gideon’s eyes widen slightly.

“You are such a shit,” he hisses and then his free hand clasps onto my neck and holds me in place.

His tongue peeks out and wets his lips. I watch the movement, my heart throbbing in my chest. His pupils are blown out, his cheeks slightly red and then in the next second, his lips are on mine.

Our mouths crash together and his tongue presses into my open mouth. A low groan escapes me when our teeth clash, his fingers tightening on my wrist, his hips arching into me. My cock lengthens against him, and I moan lowly as he rubs against it. He’s relentless with his body. Kissing me deeply, tongues tangling, teeth biting my lips, his cock sliding against mine. My free hand slides into his hair, my fingers curling and tugging on it painfully.

I should push him away. I hate this, and yet I need it.

I need it.

Oh my god.

We’re frenzied, our breathing ragged, our dicks impossibly hard.

I need to stop it. Need to end this, but I can’t stop. Can’t. Can’t.

My groans are coming out louder now, needy and desperate, and Gideon chuckles against my mouth, his teeth sinking roughly into my bottom lip.

“You’re just a needy little slut,” he says, and I gasp when he grinds against me.

“Fuck. You,” I manage to say, and then his lips slam down on mine once more. Our tongues battle and he sucks mine between his lips, making me cry out at the force of it.

“Say it. Say you’re my little slut,” he rasps as his hips relentlessly press against mine. My cock aches, my balls are drawn up, hard and full. “Look how hard you are for me.”

I moan when he starts to roll his hips, canting down into me. “I bet you think about this. Think about me. Are you a greedy bottom, Mitch? Or are you still insisting you’re not gay?”

I throw my body up, my legs wrapped around his hips and we tumble onto the carpet. I’m on top of him now, his body pinned below mine. My hair falls into my face, and I reach up to push it back.

Gideon grins at me, his cheeks red from the exertion, his lips slightly swollen.

“My little bottom,” he says, and I grind my teeth. My eyes settle on his mouth and I do my best to not lean down and kiss him.

I don’t want to kiss him.

“I’m not. I’m not,” I insist, and he uses my distraction to roll me onto my back, knocking my leg into the coffee table.

He captures both my hands above my head now and starts to rock against me, our cocks perfectly aligned.

“You are. You’re my slutty little bottom. I bet you’d beg for it, for me to push your legs open wide and shove my cock right into your tight, virgin hole.”

I moan loudly at the thought, my entire body trembling from the friction he’s placing on me. I feel him everywhere.

“Want me to do that, hm? Want me to shove your legs apart and take you?”

I groan at the visual as his lips skate down my cheek and bite down roughly on my jaw.

“Want me to split you wide open, Mitchell? Tell me you don’t want it. Tell me and I’ll stop.”

I want it. I want it.

I arch into him and he grunts my name once more before whispering it softly against my skin.

The way he says it, the way he looks, is my undoing. I feel my balls draw up and my cock explodes. I gasp and moan through it, my entire body shaking from the force.

Oh fuck. Oh, fuck.

I come down from an incredibly long orgasm, my ears ringing, my heart thudding in my chest. My cum has filled my boxer briefs and Gideon is still on top of me, his cock still rock hard against my groin.

“So hot,” he whispers, his hand moving from my wrist to touch my warm face. “So good for me.”

I swallow roughly, the reality of what we did slamming into me.

“Get off me!” I nearly shout, shoving at him.

He stiffens and then rolls up, hopping onto his feet and adjusting his hard cock. I scramble backward, pulling my legs up to my chest and holding on to them tightly.

“Get the fuck out. Leave!”

He hesitates for a moment and then with a sigh, he turns on his heel and walks out, the door shutting with a click.

Oh god. Oh fuck. What did I do?