The rhythm was perfect—a deep, steady ciming that had Sender gasping into the sheets. Wendell was in his element, lost in the heat and the tight grip of his boyfriend’s body. The phone buzzing on the nightstand was an annoyance, but when he saw *Steve* fsh on the caller ID, an idea—sharp and wicked—began to form. He didn’t stop moving, his hips never faltering as he answered and put it on speaker.

  "Yeah?" he grunted, voice rough with exertion.

  "Wendell? Hey." Steve’s voice came through, clear as a bell. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

  "I’m listening," Wendell said, eyes locked on the back of Sender’s head, watching his ears flush with pleasure. He smirked and drove in a little harder, earning a muffled wee.

  "I’m in my hometown, you know," Steve said, nervous. "And I just ran into a guy I knew—way before I met you. I think… there might be something there. I think I really like him."

  Wendell’s thrusts didn’t falter. He could hear the hesitation in Steve’s voice, the unasked question. "Do you want to be fucked by him?" Wendell asked, tone nonchant, as if discussing the weather.

  A pause. A nervous swallow. "I—I don’t know," Steve stammered. "Maybe. I just wanted to—"

  "It doesn’t matter." Wendell’s voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. "If you and him have something, that’s fine. At the end of the day, you belong to *me*. Do you understand that?"

  The line went quiet for a moment. Then Steve’s voice returned, softer, stripped of its earlier uncertainty. It was the same submissive tone Wendell knew so well. "Yes," he breathed. "Thank you. So," Steve asked, "what are you doing right now?"

  Wendell hesitated. "What… what I am** doing?"

  He grinned, slowing his pace to a deep, deliberate grind. "I’m trying to get your tight-ass brother pregnant," he said, voice smug. "And he’s being a sweet little broodmare."

  A desperate, embarrassed whine tore from the man pinned beneath him. "*Wendell!*"

  Steve barked out a ugh, loud and knowing. "Ah, so you found out about that, huh?"

  Wendell’s movements stilled for a fraction of a second. *Found out about what?*

  "Yeah," Steve continued, cheerful and utterly matter-of-fact. "I think my brother’s always had that breeding fantasy, you know? Carrying a child for the man he loves. And we both love you."

  The words hung in the air, a brotherly secret exposed. Wendell felt it happen—Sender’s entire body seizing, his ass cmping down like a silken fist. A hoarse cry was muffled by the pillow as Sender came, hard, his body wracked with a shuddering, full-body orgasm that left him boneless and trembling.

  Wendell groaned, the sudden, vice-like grip pushing him over the edge. He emptied himself deep inside his boyfriend, a low growl of satisfaction rumbling in his chest.

  "Okay," Wendell said, voice a low, possessive rumble as he reached for the phone cradle. "Talk to you ter." He didn’t wait for a response. "I’m about to take care of my little broodmare."

  He hung up and slumped onto Sender’s back. He could feel the steady, beat of his heart. After a moment, Wendell shifted, pressing his lips to Sender’s ear. "Good boy," he whispered, smug triumph in his voice. "You feel better now? Think you’re having a boy or a girl?"

  To his utter shock and delight, he felt Sender’s ass twitch again, a smaller aftershock rippling through him as he let out a weak, cute whimper.

  "I hate you," Sender breathed into the pillow, but the words were soft, filled with contentment.

  Wendell just smiled, nuzzling his neck. "No, you don’t," he murmured. "You really, really don’t."