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)
We joke around before heading back into his room, Miles tossing me a pair of shorts. It’s wild how we just…spend time together now, have fucking sleepovers, like this isn’t just what it is.
“Do you like pancakes?” Miles asks.
“That depends. Do you have chocolate chips to put in them?”
He frowns.
I flutter my lashes.
He shakes his head, then says, “I’m sure I do.”
“It’s fun to get my way. You make me wait for dick, and I’ll pester you all day.”
“You’re very good at it.”
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You have a strange idea of sweet.”
I cross my arms. “And you don’t? I think we both look at things a little differently than other people.” I didn’t realize how much I did until him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he plays it off, but we both know he does.
We make chocolate-chip pancakes, then eat at the table, an ease between us that wasn’t here only a month ago.
“What time do you have to be at Activate Kindness?” he asks, looking at his pancakes, cutting off a bite.
“Early. Like two? I promised I’d help set up, and then we have a rehearsal for the auction.” Since the first auction they put on, the event has steadily become better organized.
He finishes his pancakes, gets up, and walks to the trash without looking at me. Um…what the fuck? “What was that?” I ask, doing the same as him, walking over and scraping my plate.
“What was what?” He moves to the sink.
“I don’t know. You’re being weird.”
“I’m always fucking weird, Dax.”
I roll my eyes. “In a different way.” Is this about the auction? Does he not want me to do it? And why is there a small part of me that hopes that’s true?
“I’m not being any weirder than usual.”
“Do you…not want me to go to the auction?”
I swear, it looks like he practically sneers. “Why would I care about that? As long as your ass stays mine, you’re fulfilling your commitment to me.”
My commitment to him. Right, okay. Well, that’s a good reminder of exactly what this is between us, even if we do share parts of ourselves we don’t with others. Friends with benefits, for fuck’s sake. Why am I acting like something is wrong with that? I’m very fucking good at friends with benefits.
“Am I going to get to fulfill my commitment to you before I go?” We slept late today, and I still need to go home and get ready.
“Bathroom. Now.”
Heat skitters across my skin. He promised I’d be full of his load for this auction, and I’m counting on it.
“You’re lucky I like listening to you.” I head toward the en suite in his room, assuming he’s giving me time to freshen up before things get started.
“I know.”
I nearly stumble into the wall, not only because I didn’t expect him to admit that, but also because I didn’t know he was following me.
Miles catches me, hands on my arms, keeping me in place. “Oops. Good thing I was here to save you.”
He knows? He knows? Is Miles really saying he knows he’s lucky? Jesus. I’ve never been this confused about a guy in my whole life. “Yeah. Good thing.”
When we get to the bathroom, Miles turns on the shower, then starts stripping. My dick starts to chub because being around a naked Miles is a beautiful thing. I love the way his thick cock hangs between his legs, love his big balls and how it feels to nuzzle my face into them. Every dip and valley of muscle, his tight ass, his shoulder blades. Why the fuck are his shoulder blades so hot?
“Are you getting in?” The smirk on his face tells me he knows I was admiring him.
“Asshole,” I bite out, then get into the shower, followed by Miles.
He takes the soap, washing me up and paying extra attention to my ass and unbelievably hard cock. I should not be this turned on over a shower with him, the bastard. He’s still wearing that knowing smirk, clearly enjoying how easy it is for him to torture me.
“My turn.” He hands the soap over, and I don’t have to be asked twice before I’m lathering him up, savoring the feel of his skin beneath my hands, his muscles moving and constricting and the way his hardening cock twitches every time I touch or stroke it. “Get my balls real good too.”
“But I like them when they’re sweaty.” I grin.
He chuckles. “Next time.”
“Are you going to kiss me or what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Realization hits me. “You motherfucker. You’re not going to do it now because you know I want it.”
“We’ll see. I haven’t decided if I’m going to give you what you want yet.”
I growl, but my traitor dick flexes, and though I didn’t think it was possible, the damn things hardens more.