Chapter 1
"Pull your fuckin' pants down!" Greg ordered.
Jamie obliged. He didn't remember when he'd ever seen his brother so angry. Maybe the time over on Lester Street. Greg had almost killed that punk from the Steel Chains. He'd done it with his fists, too. Pounded the poor sonofabitch into a bloody pulp so that the kid's own mother couldn't ever recognize him. But Greg wouldn't hurt Jamie like that. That's why he'd chosen this way. He was taking out his own frustrations by fucking Jamie. This was punishment only in Greg's mind, not in Jamie's. Jamie had leaned long ago to look with pleasure on the run of his brother's cock in and out of his asshole. Did Greg still think that the best way to punish was a fuck? What had supposed to be degrading had evolved from that into something else a long time ago.
"Bend over the Goddamn bed," Greg said. He was undoing his belt, his fingers pausing to fondle the buckle. Slowly he pulled the leather strap free of the belt loops. He knew his brother wasn't expecting this. Jamie was bent over the bed, his firm young ass ready for Greg's cock, not for Greg's belt. Greg had never hit him. Oh, he'd threatened many times, but he'd never done it. Even the next time he'd gotten furious, over that petty theft at Johnson's Department Store, Greg had fucked because he wanted to give a punishment that would leave no scars. Jamie had such a boyishly perfect body. It would have been a shame to mar it. A butt-fuck would have been enough. "See, you ain't a man just 'cause you swiped a coupla bicycle chains, you little bastard," Greg had said that first time. "What kinda man'd let himself get fucked like a woman?" There'd been no beating that time.
Greg hit the startlingly white ass, seeing the strip of blush form on the creamy flesh as quickly as the leather slipped away.
"Jesus, Greg!" Jamie said, his voice choked on the shock of the unexpected pain. He started to push off the bed, but Greg was on him, sitting on the boy's ass, clamping him between thighs, riding his brother's lower back like a rider on an animal. Greg's left hand clamped hard into Jamie's neck, holding the boy's face back on the bed.
"Didn't expect that, did you, you little cocksucker?" Greg asked roughly. "That you could go out an' pull this one, an' your old brother wouldn't find out. And if he did, well, shit, what the fuck? Big brother never did nothin' any more than hop on for a quick fuck, get so carried away with screwin' he'd forget about any real punishment. You think I don't know you been startin' to enjoy gettin' cornholed? Well, by God, this's gonna be one ride your brother's gonna give you that neither one of us is gonna enjoy."
Jamie started to say something, but he groaned instead as Greg's right hand wielded the belt like a riding crop, down and back over the buns of his brother's ass.
"Hurt does it, you little thief?" Greg asked. He was starting to sweat. He had to wipe the beads of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his right hand. "Well, it's gonna hurt a fuckin' lot more before I'm finished with you."
Jamie could feel the resulting swells across his ass. There was a pulsing of his tender flesh, a throbbing warmth that was somehow beginning to give him a hard-on. His swelling cock was jabbing into the bedspread.
Greg hit his brother again, his whole body shuddering with the resounding slap of the leather against the flesh beneath him. Greg was disturbed that the sounds of the whipping weren't quelling his desires. He thought a beating would substitute for his need for sex, for the growing need he had long ago admitted to himself that he had for his brother's young body. Where sex had ceased being a disciplinary action, the whipping would now have to suffice. Or would it? Another whack of the belt against Jamie's butt, another feel of the resulting trembling of Jamie's body against his thighs, and Greg knew he was only getting himself hotter. His cock was hard in his pants, was getting harder. Jesus, he was horny! He felt guiltier than hell that this had become so much of a turn-on. He should have known it would be this way. Since even before Jamie's sizable nuts had dropped, the boy's crotch sprouting its silver-blond hair, Greg had been excited by his brother. Greg wasn't the only one, but he'd made Jamie his own personal property. All those hot-ass blacks and Puerto Rican studs knew tat if they tried anything funny with Jamie Bravo, they were going to get repercussions from the kid's older brother. And no one in his right mind wanted to get on the wrong side of Jamie Bravo's brother. Greg had been Lord of the King Knights when he was younger. After the syndicate had begun taking an interest in the neighborhood, Greg had graduated to big time in comparison to what he'd been before. Greg was the syndicate's local representative, and nothing happened in his neighborhood without being cleared through him -- nothing!
Greg knew. God, yes, he knew. You usually only thought of the weak ones getting raped in jail. Well, that was a crock of shit! Greg hadn't been a feminine little faggot even back in those days. He'd fought. Christ, yes, he'd fought. Even a young, butch stud could only fight so much against those odds. The memory had stuck in Greg's mind. He could imagine Jamie's tight young ass being used as Greg's had once been: those blond buns being put at the disposal of every greasy, cheese-smelling cock that wanted to fuck it. Jamie had come so close, so fucking close!
"So close," Greg mumbled, as if Jamie had been somehow eavesdropping on the silent conversation Greg had been having with himself. The additional fury spawned by that particular erotic vision made him lower the belt even harder the next time.
"Greg," Jamie mumbled. His mouth was drooling into the blanket. His body was alive with conflicting emotions. There was the pain resulting from his beating, the hot sunbursting that had grown now to encompass his whole ass. There was the hurt of Greg's claw like fingers still anchored into his neck. There was, however, the surprising presence of pleasure -- that pleasure having completely hardened Jamie's cock. His dick had leaked a mess of pre-seminal fluid that had soaked into the bedspread beneath the boy's belly.
Greg hit Jamie again and then again, his cock swelling hugely in the folds of his pants. The cock was paining in its inability to complete its erection. Greg would have liked to adjust his rod, let it grow to its full stance, but he was afraid of the additional stimulation that would occur when his fingers moved his cock.
Jamie was crying. His tears streaked his face, ran over his cheeks. He could taste them on his tongue. His whole body jerked with each ensuing blow Greg delivered. His butt hurt. This was a totally new experience. It was strange, in that his torment was continually equalized by the pleasure.
Greg stopped suddenly, dropping the leather to the floor. The belt circled like a snake, the sound of its dropping loud against the hard floor. Sweat was rife on Greg's body. It had formed damp ring of darkness beneath his arms, a line down his back and down the front of his shirt. He felt the sting of the sweat in his eyes, the run of it along his neck and down his sides.
He stood, stepped back, saw for the first time the welting his beating had left on the creamy white surface of Jamie's ass. Greg actually wanted to cry at the damage he had done. He didn't; Greg hadn't cried for as long as he could remember.
Instead, he dropped to his knees, ran his hand gently over the ridges of discolored flesh. His fingertips detected the involuntary flinching of the skin beneath them. The skin was warm beneath his touch. He wondered if it would be equally warm against his mouth. He put his face to the ass, rubbing his cheeks gently against the blushed buns.
They were warm, so very warm.
Greg wanted suddenly to say he was sorry, but how could he? He'd never really hurt Jamie before, not even when he'd fucked him, but Jamie had to learn. He had to know that the consequences of what he'd done could have been far worse than they were. Jamie had probably seen it all as a fluke, a game to be played where he could pick up a few extra bucks in the bargain. They'd taken guns with them. God, what would have happened if they'd killed someone? There would have been no saving any of them. Not even Greg's connections could have hushed it up. There would have been prison. Christ, but these little bastards had no conception about what went on behind those closed and barred gates. And if they could at least begin to imagine, they could somehow manage to visualize themselves simultaneously sacrosanct -- untouchable by the law. How stupid. How very, very stupid. You either had to be very rich or very powerful to escape the law, and Greg and Jamie Bravo were neither.
Greg turned his lips into Jamie's butt, kissing the swaths of swollen skin, pretending that maybe his kissing would make the pain go away. At least none of the blows had broken the skin. There would probably be no marks remaining in a few days, no scars. Yet, for the minute, the welts looked ugly on the creamy flesh, and Greg doubted that there would be any immediate cure for them.
Greg put his hands to each bun, moving them apart and thrusting his face into the crease of his brother's ass. The slopes of the butt had become sweaty during the beating. Greg licked, tasting the saltiness. God, it was luscious having his face buried against this ass! The butt was so well-shaped, so firm, so young, so pale and crisscrossed with lines of redness. Greg tried to stop himself from going further, but he couldn't. He'd never been able to stop himself as far as Jamie's ass was concerned.
Jamie, beautiful Jamie -- so blond, so hung, so good-looking. Almost before Greg had known what sex was about, he had had the hots for his brother. The very first girl he had screwed, he had imagined was Jamie, little Jamie who was then so far from even reaching puberty. Greg's imagining had made sex so much better, Jamie's ass seeming so much more exciting than that girl's wet hole. No matter who Greg had had sex with, after that fist time, it was always Jamie he was making love to in his mind. It was always Jamie's legs that were opened for him, Jamie's asshole that was taking his cock, Jamie's mouth that was crying out those grunts of passion.
Greg's nose found the pucker of Jamie's bung within the valley of his buttcheeks. He sniffed, smelling the aromas. He loved them, was hungry for them, sometimes found himself dreaming of them. They were always the same, yet somehow different. Now they were stronger, mustier, smelling of sweat and young male ass. At other times, they smelled of pine-scented soap, especially after Jamie had showered.
The smells had their accompanying tastes. The sweat was always salty on the tongue, combining with harsher, tanniclike flavors as Greg probed the asshole itself. There were smells and tastes Greg couldn't define, couldn't put words to. They were indicative only of Jamie's ass, and Greg had never found anything to duplicate the effect they had upon him.
The throbbing in Jamie's ass had not ceased with the ending of the whipping. Hot flashes warmed the beaten butt, washed over it, flared higher when Greg's hands, lips, or tongue touched pieces of the molested flesh. Still, Jamie had a hard-on. He had a stiff dick, and he was horny. He knew Greg was horny, too. He knew that Greg would now end up kicking him. The spanking with the belt had been no substitute for the fuck, even if it had been meant originally to supplant it. The beating had been merely a preliminary. And Jamie somehow found this new aspect sexually exciting. He could hardly wait for Greg's rolled tongue to jab up his butt, work there for a while and then be followed by the bigger bulk of Greg's cock. Even though the whipping had hurt, still hurt, would continue to hurt after the pleasure of the fucking was long gone, Jamie knew that it was responsible for the increased level of his excitement.
Greg rolled his tongue, his hands pushing the butt crease wider as his tongue touched the pucker and pushed to penetrate it. His wet tongue drove inside the bung easily, tasting, savoring those tastes as it went.
Greg's bout of punishing was over. He knew what he was moving on to now wouldn't be a form of chastisement. His fucks had begun as such years ago. Remembering how humiliated he'd been when he'd first had his ass fucked, Greg had naturally picked such a fuck for Jamie as the ultimate punishment he could think of for the boy -- in the beginning. However, it had gravitated into something more as time went on, something Greg found himself utilizing more and more -- not because it was a punishment any longer, but because he had come to enjoy it, and, what's more, he sensed correctly that Jamie enjoyed it, too. Greg still used punishment as an excuse for a screwing, but the seriousness of those crimes warranting a fuck had long become of less degree than had been the original that began it all. That was why there had to be something more than just the fuck this time. The fuck itself was no longer punishment, could have no way masqueraded as such. There had to be something more this time. This hadn't been petty theft of bicycle chains, but grand larceny.
Greg continued to lick Jamie's ass, eating out the bung until all the flavors there were muted to a blandness on Greg's tongue. Greg was still angry, but most of his vehemence had been worked out of him by the whipping of Jamie's ass.
Greg injected a mess of saliva through the roll formed by his tongue. He sopped the asshole, messing the brown pucker in preparation for the fuck to follow. Greg then reared back on his knees, quickly undoing the fly of his trousers. He fished inside, into the breach of his underwear, hooking the neck of his cock. It was hard. Jesus, was his prick hard. He pulled, and his cock was so stiff that it only reluctantly came free. When it did, it was a jutting of hard male meat that stabbed upward along the young man's shirt to a point that corresponded roughly to the position of the belly button hidden beneath it. Another reach into the fly brought out a pair of healthy balls. They dropped downward in the flaccid flesh of their sac.
Greg had a more than respectable cock. It wasn't huge to the point of grotesqueness, but it was certainly a piece of meat any man would have been proud to have for his own. It was a good eight inches from its knotted root to its capping knob. It was circumcised, a band of scar tissue turtle necking the naked mushrooming of the rosy summit. The cum-slit was a deep one, pouting as it perfectly centered the pulpy knob. The cock wasn't perfectly cylindrical, but tended to be wider across its belly and back. It didn't erect in a perfectly straight line, either, but bowed outward at its middle, the cockhead arching backward into Greg's belly. Its root sat surrounded by a bushing of thick, dark crotch hair.
Greg wrapped his hand around the neck of his cock, milking it for its juices, spreading the resulting ooze over the cockhead and shaft.
Jamie waited, anticipating what was about to come. He wanted Greg's cock. If he'd wanted it in the beginning, he wanted it even more now that his ass was still tingling from its beating. Jamie's cock was hard, God awful hard. Did Greg know? Could Greg see how hard his prick was?
Greg hadn't yet noticed. He probably couldn't have imagined his beating as having given Jamie anything but pain. How could Greg have begun to imagine that the clash of leather against flesh could have been just as much a stimulant for Jamie's pleasures as it had been for his own?
Jamie kept his face buried in his arms. He didn't look back at Greg, didn't want to do anything that might make Greg suddenly stop. Had Greg stopped now, gone no further, left without fucking, that would have been a worse punishment for Jamie than the actual beating of his ass had been. Jamie was hot for his brother's fat cock. Without actually seeing Greg do it, Jamie could still picture how it was, how Greg's cock and balls were sticking free of the gap in the young man's fly. Jamie could remember how excited he'd been when he'd first seen that cock and those balls.
Greg used his left hand to pry open the crack, locating Jamie's asshole once more, his right hand pulling his cock downward into position. He came forward, preparing to fuck his brother dog-style. It had always been dog-style. Initially it had been that way to add to the humiliation; now it had merely become a habit. It was a good way to fuck. Greg could imagine the agony of his brother's face that first time so long ago, when, even then, there had only been evidence of pleasure registered instead. There had also, originally, seemed something more degrading in fucking a man as if he were an animal. Greg had been fucked that way, held over the edge of a prison cot while his ass was filled with cock after cock after cock...
Greg pushed for his entrance, actually trembling as the asshole opened to accept his rosy knob and a couple inches of cockshaft. He was always surprised by how tight the asshole was, how it hugged closely to his entering cock, the sphincter a vise tat threatened to gum his cockhead off its shaft.
Jamie wiggled his butt. He couldn't help it, he just did. He wanted more of his brother's cock up his asshole. He wanted his butt to gobble up that fat cock to its balls. He was hornier than he'd ever been in his life. The beating of his ass had somehow made him that way. Not even Jamie realized how fucking turned-on he was until he felt the initial insertion of Greg's cock up his tight bung. Now, he really wanted it. He wanted it fast and furious. He wanted that prick bucking over his prostate, penetrating through his ass, through his belly, shoved in so deeply he could even feel it in the base of his throat.
"Fuck me, bastard!" Jamie groaned as his own bouncing ass managed to slip itself another couple of inches over Greg's cock. His words surprised both him and Greg. It was the first time he'd said anything to indicate he was looking forward to a screw. It suddenly removed all pretense that this ritual was one of torture or punishment. Jamie wanted to get fucked; he wasn't being forced into it because of something he'd done. He wanted his butt plugged with cock. He wanted his ass stuffed with cock. He wanted his bowels overflowing with cock. He wanted it all. He wanted it now.
Jamie's words excited Greg. He should have pulled out of his brother's ass right then. He should have yanked his cock free and stuffed it back into his pants and left the room now that the illusion was completely shattered. But hadn't it really been unofficially shattered long before Jamie had screamed for Greg to fuck him? Hadn't it actually been the fact that Greg knew the fuck was no longer a punishment that had forced him into the beating to begin with? And if he'd known that, had actually long known it, ten why had he continued to perform the ritual and cornhole his young brother? Why had he now, the whipping completed, moved on to the fuck? Why? Because his body called out for a fuck. The sound of leather against bare butt had been its own stimulant, its own aphrodisiac. Greg wanted to fuck Jamie for the same reasons that he had always wanted to fuck him -- for the gut-shattering ecstasy to be had from blasting his fat, stud prick up young, male ass. Only now they both admitted to each other that they knew what they were about. The masquerade had been completely ripped away. Oh, yes, they would fuck. They were too far into it for either of them to abort, but this time they would be fucking for no sham reasons. The punishment for the crime had already been administered. This, then, was something else entirely.
Greg shoved again, his cock gliding in, his balls swinging to bang Jamie's ass, his belly against the buns. Greg leaned over Jamie's body, molding to him. His prick was in, in all the way. It was heaven. Jesus, it was heaven.
"Oh, Christ, Jamie," Greg said, his voice coming low and muffled with his pleasure. How had the two managed to arrive at this moment? Why had it seemingly taken such a stupid move on Jamie's part to bring them to this point in their mutual realization? Greg loved his brother. Loved him more than fraternal love. Loved him as passionately as any man could love a woman. He'd known that when they'd told him of the robbery, of Jamie's involvement in it. Greg had tasted his fear then, the fear of losing his brother, the fear they would arrest him, put him in jail. Greg loved Jamie too much to see him go there. He'd acted. He'd had the robbery covered. He'd pulled strings.
"I want you," Jamie said, his butt sore where Greg's pants were chafing against it. "God, I want you."
Greg put his hands on the boy's shirt-covered chest. He could feel the buds of taut nipples even beneath the covering material. He tentatively dropped his hands lower, moving onto the boy's belly. He did so slowly, even nervously, because he was about to do something he hadn't done before during all of his previous fucks of Jamie. But, God, had he wanted to! He was going to take hold of Jamie's cock, service it with his hand even as his cock was servicing Jamie's ass. Before, Greg couldn't have touched it. Touching Jamie's dick wouldn't have been part of the act they were both playing. But they'd now discarded the acting, hadn't they, discarded it like a butterfly sheds its useless chrysalils. It was all out in the open this time, and there was nothing to hold Greg back. Greg wanted the feel of that cock against his fingers, and now it could and would be his.
Greg found the cock, the feel of it velvety against his hand. The cock was hard. How many other times had Jamie's cock been hard while Greg fucked him, hard without Greg's having known about it? Jesus, they'd wasted so much time in coming to this point, so much fucking time.
Jamie had felt Greg's hand moving down his chest, his belly, even farther. He couldn't hope, could he? He couldn't actually believe that Greg was going to grab his cock until his cock was grabbed, and then, Jamie felt the thrill rolling from one inch of his being to the next. How many nights had he dreamed it would be like this? How many times, when being fucked, had he actually shut his eyes and imagined his brother's hand where it was now? Many times. Jesus, God, it had been an uncountable amount of times. And now that it was happening, Jamie was afraid he was going to cream before any of it had time to go a second further. There was a sunburst of pleasure from his groin and into his belly. Jamie fought to calm it.
Greg intuitively sensed what was happening and automatically withdrew his fingers -- not for long, but only until Jamie's trembling ceased beneath him. Then Greg quickly reclaimed the dick, stroking it, drawing its loose outer folds of velvety skin back and forth over the more solid inner core. It was almost as if he were jacking off his own dick, crouched as he was over Jamie's body, and, in a way, he was beating his own meat, wasn't he? They were brothers, weren't they? They were the same flesh, the same blood, from the same cum, manufactured in the same set of balls. So how had one popped out so dark-complectioned, the other so beautifully blond?
Jamie's possible premature climax had faded quickly. When Greg's fingers had again clamped around the shaft of Jamie's prick, beginning to draw the skin of it back and forth, Jamie knew he would be able to go longer than a few seconds until his eruption. Jamie was happy. What a waste had he blasted his wad into Greg's hands without any further lead-in.
Greg fucked -- fucked his cock up Jamie's ass, fucked his hand back and forth along the enormous girth of Jamie's cock. His fingers on the cock were making long, slow, easy slides -- the kind Greg liked when he had his own dick and balls propped up over the edge of the sink, his fist pumping his cock for a come. His gripping slid along the cock from its head to its root and then back again. There was a simultaneous plugging of Jamie's butt by Greg's dong, followed by a withdrawal of most of those cock-inches from the tight bung.
Jamie revolved his ass, sensuously stirring the entering and exiting cock up his butt. He and his brother moved quickly to achieve an easy fucking rhythm. Greg's cock glided smoothly in and out, that mass riding along on a lining sopped with spit and leaked pre-cum. Within his fingers, Greg felt the warm stickiness of the natural lubricant being leaked copiously from the pouting cum-slit that cleaved Jamie's cockhead.
Time passed, the fucking and the masturbating cadences increasing in their momentum. Greg's hips had a new force as they battered his lower belly violently into Jamie's welted ass. The cock was pushed and pulled up the asshole, Greg's nuts smashing with painful pleasure into Jamie's butt. The sphincter of Jamie's ass continued to gum, concaving as the cock slipped in, convexing as the cock slipped out.
The walls of the boy's ass collapsed against the cock as it entered, collapsed into a further smallness into the void left by the exiting rod. The ride of flesh against flesh caused a building of heat. There was a fire up Jamie's ass.
"Harder!" Jamie pleaded. "Fuck me harder!"
Again Greg pushed to bury his cock balls deep up the contracting asshole. The head of his cock banged into Jamie's prostate, deflected, plowed deeper into the bowel. It was followed by inch after inch of cockshaft. There was a short pause while the cock came to a complete stop up the asshole; then, it was in motion again. This time it was the shaft of the cock which was followed by the knob as the big rod pulled out of the asshole.
Greg, realizing his moment wasn't all that far off, began jacking off Jamie's cock with an even faster rhythm than he was fucking his butt. Greg wanted Jamie to come, wanted the feel of Jamie's young jizz webbing his hand.
"Easy," Jamie whispered, speaking into his forearm which was sopped with spit. "I'm close, big brother. I'm fucking close."
Which was fine with Greg. Greg confidentially couldn't imagine anyone being any closer to an orgasm than he was. Even before Jamie's plea had left the boy's mouth, it was Greg who felt the tremors beginning to herald the end. Greg's muscles began to go stiff, his chest began to heave with his panting, his hips began to go wild in their bucking.
One last time, Greg's cock buried up Jamie's ass, staying there while the walls of Jamie's ass vibrated around it.
"Oh... fuck!" Greg grunted between gritted teeth. And then his nuts let go.
The load of wet sperm sprang free of the suffocated cock, basting Jamie's prostate with a deluge of scalding fuck cream. It was the trigger that sent Jamie off the deep end. The younger boy trembled, shook, squealed out his delight as Greg's pumping fingers smeared his cock with his own erupted cum.
The two were consumed in the ecstasy of the moment, lost in a world that consisted only of their two interlocked bodies. Wad after wad of hot jizz blasted from each pouting meatus. The spunk up Jamie's butt flooded back over the plugging meat of Greg's cock and drooled from his asshole.
When it was over, the two were exhausted. Never had their mating been such a mutual releasing of pent-up passions. They both breathed heavily, almost gasping as their lungs fought for air.
Finally Greg pulled himself free. His exiting cock brought with it a mess of spent cum that trickled with other excess juices down the crease of Jamie's ass. Greg got to his feet, feeling his legs weak. He looked down at the body he'd just filled with his spunk. Jamie looked so helpless and vulnerable that Greg felt a tightening in his own throat. His hands moved automatically to stuff his cock back into his pants and to fasten up his fly to conceal it. He stepped back a couple of feet and dropped into a chair.
With the passion of the sex over, the pain of the whipping was again evident within Jamie's body. As the boy tried to get up, his tortured ass was fiddled with the ache of bruised flesh. He got slowly to his feet, feeling the ooze of his brother's cum dribbling down the inside of his thighs. He reached down for his pants and pulled them upward over his leg and thighs. The material of his trousers was harsh against his butt as he slid it up around his buns. The bay grimaced with the renewed pain. He pushed his cock back behind his trouser fly and buttoned up his pants. His legs were stiff as he turned to face his brother. His ass felt as if it had been cooked slowly over a hot fire and was now beginning to crack in a releasing of liquid, fatty juices.
"Why, Jamie -- why?" Greg asked, his head buried in his hands.
"Why not?" Jamie asked, thinking his brother had been making reference to their sex. "I ain't gonna get pregnant."
"Oh, Christ, not the fuck," Greg said, looking up at his brother, his face registering a genuine anguish and concern. "Why the robbery?"
Jamie shrugged. "I was bored," he said. "I was fuckin' bored, and it sounded like something different to do. And it was."
"You're too young to be runnin' around with tat group of bums," Greg said.
"When you were my age, you were doin' the same thing."
"Well, I don't want what I had for you," Greg said. "I damn well want it a little better for my brother."
"There ain't no better things for us," Jamie said, far older than his actual eighteen years. "People like you 'n me are stuck in this fuckin' hole for the rest of our lives, and there ain't no way we're ever gonna get out."
"You know Davis Carthy had a piece with him this afternoon when he went into that grocery store?" Greg asked.
There was a short pause, and then Jamie decided upon telling the truth. Why not tell the truth? If there wasn't that much between him and his older brother, it would have made their sex somehow less meaningful than it really was.
"Yeah, I knew," Jamie said.
It was at that moment Greg knew he had to do something about his younger brother, and do it pretty damned fast.