Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I’m Dash Richmond, seasoned attorney, mostly decent person, and currently living my best life with my forever husband, Beau Brooks. He’s my anchor. The person who keeps my feet firmly planted to the ground and the one who has me on the edge of my seat, waiting for one of his silly soft grins or sweet, caressing kisses. Nothing has changed for me since the day I met him. I’m still head over heels in love with my guy.
That’s the real me. But to the rest of the world, I’m thought of as a legal powerhouse and courtroom bulldog. That’s why people hire me and why it’s in your best interest to not get on my bad side.
Yet, life is complicated. In a sudden twist of fate, the rug gets pulled out from underneath me, leaving me reeling.
Beau Brooks
Once I learned to get out of my own way, my life transformed in ways I never thought possible. Fast forward a few years, and my mister is not only the love and joy of my life, but every dream we dared to make has come true.
Other dreams have a funny way of manifesting too. I’m now co-owner in a thrilling charter fishing service, alongside my lifelong buddy and new Sea Springs neighbor, Scott Lee.
Then out of nowhere, life hurls a fastball that sends me sprawling. My meticulously built inner defensives crumble, thrusting me into a place I never wanted to be. Can I muster the strength to be the leader of my family or will the fear of losing my life’s love bring me to my knees, risking everything I hold dear.
When our cherished lives suddenly go sideways, are either of us really the men we believed ourselves to be? Can we navigate the maze of these powerful truths, or will the force of change shatter what we hold dear?
The Gravity Series is an unforgettable whirlwind romance chronicling the love of two men over three decades. Force heats up the scene with passionate alpha males who navigate the often-rocky road to love. Love’s rarely easy, but when it’s true, it’s a battle worth fighting for
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Part 1
1: The Birthday
Dash
July 3, 2019
Sea Springs, Texas
Something as simple as a roll from one side of the bed to the other had become a complicated deal for me these days. I’d been in this predicament every time I tried to sleep for almost three years. The primary culprit: pajama-fucking-pants.
What numbnut invented something so pointless? Clearly, they had no feeling in their nuts. Every time I moved I cut off essential blood flow to the region, which woke me up repeatedly. How could something made with good old-fashion American ingenuity have such a glaring oversight?
Then, as if that weren’t the most awful thing in the world, my pride added a fatal blow, preventing me from swapping these ridiculous pants for comfortable form-fitting athletic shorts like Beau wore. In the beginning, when clothes in bed became a thing, I chose pajama pants when Beau thought I should wear shorts. Now, he slept like a comfortable baby while I generally stared at the back of his head, not even his face, though I doubted that would help pacify my frustration after all this time.
For the sake of my current pity party, I usually avoided the truth: I was too damned hard-headed. I put these pants on every night, no one forced them on me. My husband of almost four years, Beau Richmond-Brooks, had taught me a good lesson about being too focused on things that weren’t near as important as him. Nowadays, I reserved my argumentative nature for the courtroom or for situations like this, where my defiance to admit I was wrong, only led to my own discomfort, no one else.
As I lay there, staring at my husband’s broad shoulders, I counted his long, measured breaths while my thoughts slipped to other things. Despite our challenges, Beau and I still squabbled over our minor differences. The same ones we’d had from the beginning, nineteen years ago. They typically revolved around something I wanted that veered off the course Beau set for himself. In our current life, Beau never bent. But he had a unique ability to capture my attention and steer me back onto his track.
Silently, yet with a touch of drama, I rolled over. My pants stayed in their previous position, cutting off more circulation than before. I stared at the dark ceiling, manifesting new thoughts about how much I loved my life.
As I rested my palm on my shirtless chest—noting that was how my whole body should be—I rubbed at the sweet ache of insurmountable joy there.
Fortunately, I didn’t need much sleep. I lifted my head, catching the first rays of morning sunlight peeking around the sides of the curtains. In peaceful moments, I reflected on all the victories I had accomplished over the past four years. This perfectly sized, cozy bedroom was one of them.
We had managed to build a replica of Beau’s ancestral family home, making only a few minor adjustments. While I didn’t override Beau’s vision, I made tiny enhancements. I couldn’t resist incorporating a few elements from my Dallas home. For example, this bedroom suite was much larger than the previous one. That oversized, open concept followed throughout the entire home. I installed a few smart options in all the first floor rooms. Mood lighting and a sound system helped nourish my soul. Beyond the curtains in our room were the same floor-to-ceiling retractable windows that we’d had before. They led to a private section of the nice-sized swimming pool in our backyard.
Many nights, Beau and I would sneak out for a private swim, sharing conversation and simply enjoying being in each other’s company. Those memories stayed vividly trapped inside my heart, truly special moments for me.
When sneaking outside wasn’t an option, we’d take refuge in the en suite bathroom built for a king, or two guys who really liked to spend time alone. Bubble baths were a new addition to our private time. The oversized, luxury bathtub was everything to me. I cherished holding my guy in a cozy embrace, surrounded by warm, temperature-controlled water with tight bubbles floating on top. My cock firmed underneath my pajama pants, the material not stretching to accommodate the additional space. I ran my hand down my chest to travel under the waistband and grip my cock.
I tugged in measured movements, continuing my mapping of the first floor of our home. The bedroom opened into the furthest side of the living room. A dining room and spacious kitchen were all there in an open concept, making the downstairs feel enormous. But while christening our home, I demanded each of those spaces be considered separate. I fucked my guy over the kitchen island, the dining table, and every piece of furniture in the living room. My fist gave a hungry stroke down then up again, until the whispers penetrated the room.