Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
My heart stumbles at the word boyfriend.
“Ew. Gross,” I tease.
I don’t have a boyfriend, and I’ve never wanted one, but with Miles… I think I might be willing to make an exception.
21
Miles
I’m annoyed that Dax isn’t in bed with me right now.
This is what I get for letting a man spend nights over here with me.
It’s just more convenient, considering he works so late. Although, when the fuck did I ever care if it was inconvenient for someone to work all night, fuck around, and then head back home?
It’s different with Dax. He’s like me. He can fuck without feelings involved, and I don’t have to worry about him getting all weird and attached.
I don’t know why that thought suddenly irritates me even more than I already am, but my chest tightens.
Maybe I’m just pissed at Dax for going to see his family tonight. Not that I don’t want him to spend time with his family—that would be toxic as fuck, so…well, could easily be me. But it’s not just that I want to be balls-deep in him right now, as great as that would be. I don’t like the thought of him spending his time with his asshole dad.
Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. From what he’s said, his dad isn’t a fucking monster. Clearly, if he really hated Dax, he could have ditched him during college, told him to fuck off and never seen him again. Although, maybe he hasn’t because the brother he actually likes would hate him for that.
Not my problem, I tell myself, which is usually an easy way for me to cut off giving a damn about other people, but it doesn’t work with Dax, and suddenly, I realize I’ve been so distracted, I missed a chunk of this show I’m streaming. “Dammit,” I mutter as I back up.
Dax and I started watching a new series, but I tend to fall asleep and have to catch up, so now would be the time to pay attention.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I’m like a ninja, I move so fast.
It’s the gate of my apartment complex.
I wait a few moments. No reason to let him in so quickly that he thinks I was lying around, waiting on him to get back to breed him, though that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing.
Three rings is a normal amount to wait, right? Maybe four?
I’m sure the right number is the one you don’t have to fucking think about, so what the hell am I doing?
I punch the button and push to my feet. If I’m eager to fuck that hole, it’s not like that’s gonna weird him out.
In only boxers, I head to the door, and he knocks before I get to it. When I open the door, he says, “Have you been waiting at the door for me to get here?”
“No, but funny enough, I was trying to decide what ring to let you in on.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Get the fuck in here.”
He smirks, but I’ve spent enough time with him now to see there’s more behind his expression. It triggers something in me.
Rage.
“What did he do?” I spit out before I’ve had a chance to think about it.
His brow creases, but then relaxes. “I think it’s safe to say, when it comes to Dad, it’s what he doesn’t do.” His voice is soft, defeated. It’s like that dark cloud is covering more of the yellow.
He’s quiet, his gaze far off, and I take his wrist. Not really sure why. Maybe because I’m so hell-bent on understanding why he’s in this mood.
“You can tell me.”
“I’m sorry if I’m being weird. It’s really not that big of a deal. Now where’s that dick I was promised?”
Of course I want to fuck Dax. If it was up to me, my dick would have been inside him already, but I can tell that’s not what he needs right now.
“You don’t want to fuck tonight.”
“Why? Did that exclusive dick change its mind?”
“Nah, but it knows when that ass is hungry for it. A dick sixth sense.”
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, as much as fucking around would normally cheer me up, I’d rather just chill tonight. I can head back to my place.”
My hand is still on his wrist, and I squeeze gently. “No. Stay.”
You need to tell me what’s wrong. Although, I know how I get and that pushing is a real shitty idea.
“Yeah, I am kind of tired.”
“Come on,” I say, leading him to the bedroom. “Do you want to watch the next episode? I’m not caught up on the last one, but that’s fine.”
Feels like, for the first time since he got here, he takes a full breath. “Eh, let’s save it for another night. I think I just want to pass out.”
He strips down and slides under the covers with me, and I grab the remote and turn off the TV.