Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
The moment Lincoln’s strong body seized and his hot cum hit his stomach, Sharpe gave up and surrendered to his orgasm.
It exploded inside him like a nuclear bomb, full of devastation and chaos, barreling through every wall he’d built until there was nothing left.
Too late, Lincoln…I already am obsessed.
Belladonna Mansion
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 17th, 9:40 p.m.
Thorn couldn’t remember the last time a dinner had felt so much like foreplay.
Lucas had been out of town for three days, but from the way their hands had tangled under the table, the way Lucas leaned in to steal bites off his plate with a wicked grin, he may as well have been gone for six months at war.
They’d barely touched their entrées without trading a quick kiss, Lucas’s hazel eyes shining with a hunger that kept him semi-hard the entire date.
Now, standing just inside the mansion’s grand foyer, the intimacy ignited into something unstoppable.
Lucas was pressed close, his big palm sliding up the back of his neck, combing through his long hair in a way that made Thorn shudder every single time.
That smile—dangerous, devastating, boyish, and sinful—was inches from his mouth.
“Mmm, I missed you,” Lucas whispered, grazing his lips along Thorn’s cheek before sealing his mouth in a kiss that was slow but laced with so much need.
Thorn sank into it, relishing the unique taste of him, the heat of him, the way Lucas’s tongue traced his lips as if he were honoring the shape of them.
Their coats slipped from their shoulders and fell to the floor before Lucas pushed him gently into the wall. He kissed him deeper, his hands turning greedy as Lucas smoothed them over Thorn’s chest, gripping his hips, tugging him closer.
He clutched Lucas’s blazer lapels and tugged him tighter, sighing as Lucas’s lips dragged down his jaw to his throat.
“Upstairs,” Lucas murmured, his voice husky with urgency. “I need to be inside you, Thorn.”
He cupped Lucas’s jaw and brushed his thumb across the stubble there, forcing himself to be still while every part of him screamed to race up the stairs.
“You will. But first I have—”
“No buts,” Lucas groaned against his throat.
“Go upstairs and wait for me in my room,” Thorn whispered, kissing him once more. “I only need fifteen minutes to answer a few emails from two new gentlemen joining next week.”
Lucas refused to let him go. “I can’t wait.”
“I’ll be quick, promise. Axel is bringing someone to me in the morning, a man he says is very special. I’ll need to do a background check before he can stay in the house.”
“Fine. Ten minutes?” Lucas reiterated with his lips against his ear, his smirk full of mischief. “Actually, make it five.”
Thorn chuckled around his own need and ache. “Don’t test me.”
They kissed again. Thorn tugged at Lucas’s curls until they were both panting.
Finally, Thorn pressed his forehead to Lucas’s, savoring the moment, then nudged him gently toward the stairs.
“Go.”
Lucas obeyed, but not before stealing one last searing kiss that included a firm warning, “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Thorn watched him ascend the wide staircase, blazer fitted over his broad shoulders, jeans clinging just right, every line of his body dripping with confidence and power.
Thorn’s chest ached with the force of what he was feeling. He was falling too fast, too hard—like diving headfirst into a riptide.
Lucas was still vulnerable from his divorce, and though Thorn knew in his heart that he wasn’t just a rebound for Lucas, he also understood that broken hearts needed time. If he pushed too soon, too hard, he’d risk losing him.
And that was a risk Thorn refused to take.
When Lucas disappeared from view, Thorn exhaled, steadied himself, and turned toward his office.
The emails wouldn’t take long. And then, upstairs, a man who felt far too much like forever was waiting for him.
Belladonna Mansion
Rear Grounds
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 17th, 9:44 p.m.
Axel had been restless all day. He’d been so distracted he’d barely been able to teach his last class at the community college.
He’d gone through the motions, but his mind and heart were already on Skid Row.
As soon as the last person walked out the door, he grabbed his backpack and hauled ass to his car.
He’d only been home for ten minutes, and he’d already dropped his belongings in his room and was in the kitchen with the tote he’d packed that morning.
He had more supplies for Clarence and a few of the others who depended on him. He never went down there empty-handed. Water, food, clothes, and sometimes meds if he could get them.
But tonight, he hadn’t packed anything for Waylan.
Waylan wasn’t just another stop. He was bringing him home.
Axel had already readied a room for him with clean sheets, fresh towels, a bathroom full of toiletries, and a warm quilt that smelled faintly of lavender draped over his queen-sized bed.
As much as he wanted Waylan in his condo, he’d decided giving him his own space would build their trust faster.