7
EZRA
I could barely choke down my burnt toast as Phillip struggled with his oatmeal. What a pair of old men we were.
But nothing about my body felt old. I’d come alive the night before while massaging Aaron’s feet. Showing him attention, touching his skin had turned me on like I used to get as a teenager. Hot and horny. Heavy balls that ached for relief.
And when he’d brushed against my obvious erection, he stole my breath—and slapped my face with reality.
Sin.
Phillip’s son…almost incestuous considering how close we’d all been once upon a time.
We couldn’t go there, no matter how I longed to do so—I loved him too much to bring shame and damnation down on his head.
As for my own…the temptation proved ripe. Intoxicating. And strangely fulfilling.
“Do you want some help?” I asked
