My Stepbrother and the Secret Feelings We Could Not Hide

Just go back from the gym, I was buried under the covers, using my vibrating massager on my sore muscles.

My stepbrother, Rhett, barged in, his tone icy. Feels that good?

I nodded eagerly.

It really did.

Later, he yanked off his tie and bound my wrists with it.

That thing's too small.

Huh?

And too slow.

Huh??

"Try me."

HUH???

Bro, that's a massage gun!

Back when I was a freshman, Rhett used to hit the gym with me. But now he's working full-time, leaving me alone in the university gym.

Today was leg day. I'd just walked home, and my legs were killing me!

Grumbling, I pulled out the massage gun I'd brought from Temu and switched it on.

A wave of tingling relief instantly shot up my thigh!

Pure bliss!

I was about to let out a satisfied sigh when the door suddenly flew open.

There Rhett stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

The little "Ahhh~" stuck in my throat, and I bolted upright, embarrassed.

"Rhett, you're back."

Afraid he'd make me run laps as punishment, I quickly tried to turn it off.

But in my panic, I accidentally kicked it up to the highest setting.

So there I was,a weird, buzzing shape under the covers, right between my thighs.

The room fell silent except for the frantic vibrating.

"What are you doing?"

His voice sounded a little rough.

"I'm just using this"

I reached down to grab the buzzing device. He suddenly jerked his head away.

The tips of his ears turned pink.

"How can you just show me that?"

"Turn it off!"

He's only three years older than me! How could he be so clueless about a simple massager?

A pang of sympathy hit me out of nowhere.

I decided right then to share this amazing discovery with him.

So I cleared my throat,

"No need to turn it off. You can actually sit down and try it.

"It feels incredible!"

His eyebrow seemed twitched.

"Do you even hear what you're saying?"

Couldn't blame him for being weired out.

That big massage head vibrating wildly under the covers did look pretty intense.

I quickly dialed it down to the gentlest setting.

Clenching my fist, I pressed it rhythmically against my palm to demonstrate the motion it mimicked.

"It's just simulating a hand massage, maybe it's a bit exaggerated, just more intense.

"And it really gets deep into the tissue. It helps your body relax completelyway better than a real person!"

His brow furrowed, his voice dropping lower.

"You've tried a real person?!"

"Well, no."

Watching him rub his temples in frustration, I felt a twinge of guilt.

He's been swamped with work ever since I moved in, always out early and back late.

No wonder he's out of the loop with new stuff.

Determined to make it up to him, I rolled up my sleeves and hugged his leg.

"Rhett, don't be scared. I'll help you get used to it with my hands first. You'll love it."

Wow, these muscles are so tight.

I took the chance to sneak a feel, happily resting my head against it.

But just as I was 0.01 millimeters from his abs, he grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up.

"Lorcan!"

I flinched.

A crumpled note I'd passed to my best friend in class tumbled out of my pocket onto the floor.

No one can see my chat logs with Remy!

"Don't read that!"

But as I lunged for it in horror, he smoothly unfolded it with his long fingers.

Remy: ??[Why so spaced out?]??

Me: ??[Just daydreaming about kissing my hubby...]??

He wasn't my real husband.

It was just my private code name for my Rhett!

But if I explained that, someone as straight-laced as him would only misunderstand more.

My silence seemed to unsettle him.

"You have a boyfriend?"

His voice was colder than I'd ever heard it, almost trembling.

"You bought that for him?"

His eyes darkened.

Truth was, I'd bought the massage gun hoping Rhett and I could worked out together someday.

So technically, yes.

So I braced myself and nodded.

He let out a heavy breath, crumpled the note, and tossed it aside. His hands were trembling.

"When you use it you think about him?"

Well, sort of.

So I nodded again.

"Stay away from him!"

He bit the words out wrathfully.

"And don't let me ever see that vulgar thing in this house again!"

Why won't he let me use my massage gun?!

Then what should I do if my legs are sore.

"But what if I really need it?"

He took a deep breath, sounding exhausted.

"You like that feeling that much?"

I nodded, biting my lip and looking up at him pleadingly.

"Then maybe you could help me?"

If I could just tire him out, maybe he'd let me keep using it?

His eyes darkened dangerously, like he was holding back.

"Please?"

I pouted, slipping a hand under my nightgown to rub my increasingly aching thigh.

My legs were already screaming from today's squats.

If I didn't get a proper stretch, who knew how bad tomorrow would be!

He immediately grabbed my wrist. "Stop that!"

Then, with a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes briefly.

"Go shower. I'll meet you downstairs."

Yes!

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a Rhett massage session. I was going to make the most of it!

I pushed two sofas together to make a big chaise lounge.

Then I pulled up my favorite Netflix series.

Netflix and chill time!

All set for Rhett's arrival!

Scrolling Instagram on my alt account, I suddenly saw a post from a guy whose profile pic was him running by a stream.

??[My crush (also my stepbrother) has a boyfriend, but he still asked me to help him relax. What should I do??]??

Huh?

I tapped instantly.

??[My Stepbrother, who I've lived with for fifteen years, just told me he has a boyfriend. But then he asked me to help him "feel better. What do I do?]??

Fifteen years together?

Sounded familiar.

But also a bit off.

Still, as a dedicated drama enthusiast, I didn't overthink it and jumped right in with a reply.

??[He definitely cares about you. Otherwise, why would he still be around after all this time?]??

This guy, whose username was @My Stepbrother Is My World, seemed genuinely distressed.

He replied within seconds, clearly glued to his phone.

??[But he usually avoids me. Seems almost scared of me.]??

For some reason, I immediately thought of Rhett confiscating my snackshow he confiscates my snacks, how he hunts me down if I'm even a minute past my 11 p.m. curfew.

A shiver ran down my spine. My fingers flew across the screen:

??[Maybe you're a bit too strict with him?]??

The guy replied:

??[I'm a few years older. I guess I do tend to overmanage him sometimes.]??

Bingo!

I continued reassuring him:

?[I bet he's into you. The boyfriend might even be a test. Try feeling things out when you see him later!]

I locked my phone, feeling pretty proud of myself.

Nice!

Another troubled soul helped!

I felt good.

But then, for some reason, an image of Rhett popped into my head and refused to leave.

He's always on my case too, and sometimes it drives me up the wall.

But deep down, I knew I couldn't live without it.

Even craved it.

Sometimes, his possessiveness and control made me feel cherished.

I buried my face in my hands, feeling a bit perverted for thinking that.

I wonder if Rhett has a different side too.

Would he ever show it to me?

My cheeks suddenly felt warm.

And then I heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

Closer and closer.

I looked up at him, and my heart nearly stopped!

Because his screen showed the post I'd just replied to!

Could Rhett actually be 'My Stepbrother Is My World'?!

I quickly looked down, a strange mix of emotions churning inside.

I need to find out!

"Shy?"

His tall frame leaned in closer.

I felt the sofa dip under his weight, my words stumbling out.

"A little."

Surrounded by his cedarwood scent, I flailed for the remote, turning on the projector and randomly selecting a Netflix blockbuster.

"Rhett, let's watch a movie first!"

"Okay."

His long fingers tapped idly on the sofa backrest behind me.

The clean scent of his shower gel drifted into my senses.

So good it made my heart flutter.

"The movie can help you get in the mood."

Successful people are so particular? Need to be in the mood for a massage?

I was still trying to figure out how to respond when the main characters appeared on the screen.

They were locked in a tight embrace, kissing.

The intimate sounds seemed to echo in the quiet living room, charged and tempting.

I flustered and looked away, only to meet his intense eyes.

"Does he know we're watching something like this?"

What kind of question is that, Rhett?!

And who is this "he"?

My mind, already not the sharpest, was moving slower than usual in this hazy, tense atmosphere.

And

The guy on screen was unbuttoning the girl's shirt!

I swallowed hard, a strange, tingling heat creeping up my spine.

My mouth went dry.

Rhett leaned closer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

His voice was a low, tempting whisper near my ear.

"You know we're about to start, right?"

As he spoke, his hand slowly drifted from the nape of my neck down to the button at my collar.

His fingertips grazed my skin, and I shivered uncontrollably.

My heart was racing for no reason.

Rhett's touch felt so good.

Why was I already getting dizzy from this strange heat, my breathing quickening

While he sat there, perfectly composed on the sofa.

A knowing smile playing on his lips.

Just as his fingers slid toward the button at my neckline, I suddenly grabbed his hand.

He paused, looking at me abruptly.

His eyes held anticipation?

"Do you have something to confess?"

Confess?

No.

You're the one who needs to confess.

Tell me you're the one who's been by my side for ten years, the one who's liked me for so, so long!

So I deliberately placed his retreating hand back on my collarbone.

Holding it there, guiding it.

"Rhett, why do you keep asking me about someone else?"

His hand jerked back, his breath catching.

He looked flustered, like his secret had been uncovered.

So I pushed further.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl in the movie sitting on the guy's lap.

Clumsily, I scrambled onto his knees.

Traced circles on his visibly tense thighs.

"What, are you jealous?"

I hadn't quite found my balance. My thigh muscles screamed in protest.

As I reached out, I lost my center of gravity and started toppling backwards.

Just as I thought I'd pushed things too far, a strong arm firmly caught my back.

I was lying fully supported in the crook of his arm.

Effortlessly, he pulled me back onto the sofa.

His Adam's apple bobbed.

His rough palm brushed against my slightly parted lips.

"Yeah."

It was a low, indistinct sound, answering my earlier question.

"You're so small everywhere."

He maneuvered me until I was straddling his lap, leaving me momentarily stunned.

All I could feel was that same hand that had saved me, sliding under the hem of my shirt, resting against my waist.

Then, as if remembering something.

He abruptly pulled his hand away, clutching my shirt tightly.

He seemed to be holding back, his voice hoarse.

"I haven't asked you yet Is this okay?"