Chapter 17 Dad didn't let any of us touch a single dish once dinner was over. He waved us all off, telling us to go get comfy while he handled the cleanup himself. No one argued because we knew better. So, we scattered upstairs to change into sweatpants or whatever was cozy enough for movie night. When I came back down, the living room was still empty, so I figured I'd use the time to set things up. I went straight into full snack mode, checking every cabinet. I pulled out every kind of chip I could find and dumped them into three different bowls. Then I grabbed a few chocolate snacks. Some bars, some random half-open bags, and whatever still looked good. I put a mix of sodas and a couple of beers on the coffee table, thinking some of the guys might want something stronger than Pepsi. I wasn't trying to be fancy or anything. I just wanted everyone to have something they liked. That was the whole point of movie night. To relax and be together. Snacks were a part of that. Odin walked in just as I was adjusting the layout of the bowls like I was setting up for a party. "Look at you," he said, eyebrow raised, grinning. "Ever considered a career in catering?" I laughed and looked up at him. "I just want everyone to have a nice night." He gave me a soft smile, came over, and cupped my cheek. "That's sweet of you, kid," he said before pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. Then he went to his usual spot, which is the recliner just left of the TV. I did one last check around the table to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, and once I was sure I'd done my part, I grabbed a blanket, tossed it onto the couch, and sat right in the middle. Dead center, best view. I'd earned it. Everyone else trickled in, flopping down without much thought. Ashby grabbed the remote and started flipping through all the streaming services we were subscribed to, half of which none of us ever used. Predictably, it didn't take long for the movie debate to start. Everyone had an opinion, no one could agree, and we ended up yelling over each other about whether we were in the mood for something funny, scary, or action-packed. Eventually, we gave up and agreed to leave it up to chance. Ashby scrolled randomly and hit play on whatever came up. It was Catch Me If You Can. Not a movie I would've picked personally. Not because I predicted the movie to be bad, but because of the actor. "I hate Leonardo DiCaprio," I muttered as I adjusted the blanket over my legs and sank deeper into the couch. Dash, who was sitting right next to me, turned and laughed. "Why?" I shrugged. "He always looks constipated." That got a bigger laugh than I expected from pretty much everyone. I wrinkled my nose and grinned, proud of my stupid little insult at an actor who would never ever know of me. "He's a good actor, though," Dad said from the other couch, where he was sitting next to Tripp. Ashby was on Tripp's other side, already half-zoned into the opening credits. Rhys had taken the seat on my other side, but I was leaning into Dash more since he'd casually draped his arm around me when he sat down. The movie had been playing for maybe twenty minutes when Rhys slid his hand under the blanket and rested it on my thigh. I didn't say anything. I didn't even look at him. I just let it happen. It felt normal now. Being sneaky while also in a risky place because Dad and Odin could catch us was somehow becoming routine. A game. A quiet, thrilling challenge to see what we could get away with right under their noses. I kept my eyes on the screen, letting the movie keep my attention, but when Rhys's hand started to move, I turned my head slightly to glance at him. He wasn't even watching the movie. His face was turned toward the TV, sure, but he wasn't really there. His hand tightened slightly when he noticed me looking, his grip on my thigh firm. I pressed my lips together and slid my hand over his, holding it there for a second. We'd held hands before, plenty of times, but this felt different. It wasn't just sweet but sexually charged. But Rhys didn't seem content with just holding hands. He used his free hand to tug the blanket higher, covering both our laps better. Then, with the hand I was holding, he pulled mine toward him and placed it right on top of the bulge in his shorts. I froze for a second to look around quickly and make sure Dad and Odin were still distracted. They were both staring at the screen like nothing in the world could pull them out of the plot. Rhys started guiding my hand, squeezing it lightly so I'd move, pressing me into him through the thin fabric. I followed his lead, letting him use my hand like he wanted to, massaging him slowly. The blanket hid everything, and no one seemed to notice. I could feel his cock getting harder the longer I kept my hand on him. It pressed against my palm, thick and warm, straining against the fabric of his shorts like it was trying to push its way out. I kept rubbing him slowly. I knew that letting him slip out of his clothes in a room full of people was not an option. No matter how tempting it was, there was a line I wasn't about to cross. Not here. That would be pushing it too far, even for me. Still, I didn't stop. I just kept my hand where it was, moving slowly, giving him pressure, feeling every twitch and pulse through the fabric. He didn't flinch. He didn't shift or act like he was on edge. For a moment I thought maybe he wasn't even affected, but then I glanced up at him just to check. His face looked relaxed. Not like he was bored, more like he was really enjoying this but didn't want anyone else to notice. His expression was calm, which made me think he was probably working hard to keep it that way. If the roles were reversed, if someone had their face between my legs under this blanket, I wouldn't have been able to keep my cool like that. I'd be squirming and gasping and trying not to give us away. But Rhys? He looked like this was just a regular Tuesday night for him. I kept my eyes on the movie and let my hand do what it was doing, pretending like none of this was happening. And after a while, it started to feel normal. Like this was just another part of our weird little routine, and rubbing his cock during family movie night was totally fine. Maybe that's what it was becoming, and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't really mind. About an hour in, Rhys moved. He shifted beside me and muttered something under his breath. I looked up, confused, and met his eyes. He didn't explain. Just gave a quick nod toward the hallway, then took my hand off his cock and set it gently in my lap before standing up. I watched him as he headed for the stairs, not sure what he wanted me to do. He paused near the edge of the room and glanced back at me, then pointed at the obvious bulge in his shorts. Right. Now I understood. "I need to pee," I whispered to Dash as I tossed the blanket off my lap and draped it over his instead. Dash raised an eyebrow, smirking like he saw right through me. "Of course you do," he said, full of sarcasm. I shot him a glare, but he didn't say anything else. His smirk softened into something more supportive. As twisted and complicated as all of this was, he never made me feel judged. He'd made it clear from the beginning that I was in control. That none of this had to happen unless I wanted it to. And if I ever decided I wanted to stop, he'd be the first to back me up. But right now, I didn't want to stop. I wanted to see what Rhys had in mind. At the top of the stairs, I turned left toward the guest bathroom. The one that barely got used by us unless someone was truly desperate. The light was already on, and Rhys was standing inside, grinning when he saw me. "Come here," he said, holding the door open. I didn't question it. Just walked in like this was the most natural thing in the world. As soon as I stepped inside, he shut the door behind me and locked it. And without saying anything else, he tugged his shorts down, letting them fall to his ankles. "On your knees," he said, as if this was something we'd scheduled ahead of time. Maybe he had been planning it. I definitely hadn't, but I didn't mind it. I glanced from his face to his cock, just taking a second to admire it. Thick, hard, flushed at the tip. There was something fascinating about how different all of them were. Four guys, all related in some way, and yet not a single one of them looked the same down there. Not that I was complaining. Not at all. "Isn't this...going to take a while?" I asked, my eyes still fixed on his cock. He smirked. "You already got me halfway there downstairs. It won't take long." I looked up, and the playful glint in his eyes gave away how much he was enjoying this. "Tripp told me you're good with your mouth." That made me laugh awkwardly. "Oh, uh...I guess." "So?" he raised an eyebrow. "Unless you want to start all over and work me back up, I suggest you get on your knees." Honestly, that didn't sound like a bad idea. Starting over would mean more time alone with him, but that also meant more risk. The longer we were away, the more likely Dad and Odin downstairs would start wondering where we were. "Okay," I said quietly, then moved closer and got down in front of him. I looked at his cock again as I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base, feeling the weight of it, the warmth. I gave him a few slow strokes before leaning in and taking him into my mouth. Rhys let out a deep groan the moment I did. His hands came to my head, fingers combing gently through my hair. "God," he murmured, his voice low and breathless. "That mouth feels so fucking good." That made me proud. I wanted him to feel like this. I wanted all of them to feel like this when they were with me. And maybe I wanted them to want only me like this from now on. That probably made me selfish, but I wanted them all to myself. He gathered up my hair and pulled it into a ponytail, holding it with one hand while the other rested at the side of my neck. He kept murmuring things under his breath, little praises, soft moans, the occasional curse when I managed to take him deeper. It made me want to keep going. Made me want to impress him even more. After a little while, he gripped my hair tighter and stopped my movement. "Keep your mouth open. Tongue out." I looked up at him, just briefly, and then did exactly what he said. He started to thrust slowly at first, easing himself in, but it didn't take long for him to pick up the pace. His hips moved with more intention, pushing his cock deeper each time. I gagged a little, not fully able to handle it, but I didn't pull away. I just did my best to breathe through it and stay relaxed. I probably should've told him I wasn't that great at deep-throating yet. I was still figuring it out. Still getting used to how to breathe, how to angle my head, how not to gag too quickly. But honestly, it felt like the perfect time to learn. "Fuuuck, baby," he muttered, holding himself deep in my mouth for a few seconds while I tried to keep still. My eyes were starting to water, but I didn't stop. I was already getting better. Every second felt like progress. "Like a damn pro," he said, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "Think you can take even more?" I couldn't exactly answer, but I didn't back off either. He took that as a yes. He pulled out slightly to give me a second to catch my breath, then looked down at me again. "Focus. I'll go as deep as you'll let me. Just stay still." I gave a small nod and opened my mouth again, tongue out, ready for more. "Beautiful girl," he whispered, like the sight of me like this actually moved him. His voice had a different edge to it now. It was softer, more admiring. He pushed forward again slowly, letting me feel every inch of him sliding across my tongue. When the tip hit the back of my throat, I gagged again but didn't flinch. My body was learning how to take it. I relaxed my jaw and breathed through my nose, focusing on the way he was watching me. His cock was throbbing against my tongue, the pulses growing quicker. He was close. I could feel it. Taste it. That edge in his breathing, the way his thighs tensed, how his hand gripped a little tighter in my hair. It all gave him away. I braced myself with anticipation. I wanted it. I wanted to taste him the way I had with the others. There was something intoxicating about it. How each of them tasted a little different. Slightly sweet, a little salty, always warm. It was stupid how much I liked it. Or maybe not stupid, just...intense. I started to wonder if all girls felt like this. If all of them were this obsessed with the guys they were with. Rhys pulled back a little, just long enough for me to catch a breath, then he began to move again. He kept a rhythm that was less rough but still deep. My jaw ached, and my eyes were still watery, but none of that mattered. I kept going, eager to taste him. "I'm gonna come in this pretty mouth. Swallow all my cum, baby," he breathed out. "Just like you did with the others." I didn't respond, just stayed where I was. A second later, I felt the first spurt hit my tongue, and I swallowed quickly, not wasting any of it. I took it all, just like he asked. When he was done, he slowly pulled out, breathing hard, then leaned down without hesitation and kissed me on the mouth, like he didn't care at all that his cum was still on my tongue. After pulling back, he helped me up to my feet and watched me closely, making sure I was okay. When he was sure that I was, he whispered, "You're fucking beautiful. I'm gonna need that again soon. You're addictive." I smiled, proud and slightly breathless. "Good," I said, brushing a hand over his stomach. "I'd do it again." I kissed him one more time. "We should get back downstairs before someone actually comes looking." He nodded, smiling gently. "I'll be down in a minute." I knew he needed a second to get himself together. So I slipped out of the bathroom and made my way back to the living room. My lips were still tingling, my heart racing just a little. Once I was back on the couch, tucked under Dash's arm, the movie faded into the background. I couldn't focus. My mind kept drifting, and I thought about how many more times something like that might happen in the next couple of weeks. How often we'd sneak around. How far things might go. Dash leaned in, and I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Was he good?" he asked quietly, only for me to hear. He wasn't asking if the blowjob or Rhys's cock was good. He wanted to know if Rhys was good. If he had been respectful toward me while we were upstairs. I smiled at him and nodded, then whispered, "Yes, he was good to me." "Good. Then I won't ask any more questions." He gave my shoulder a little squeeze, then turned his attention back to the movie. Through all of this, and any situation ever, really, Dash always made me feel safe. And if anything will ever fall apart, I knew I could always count on him the most. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!