Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Really? Because I thought you were ten seconds from fucking me against the wall.” Heat ascends the back of my neck as soon as I release the words. I seriously need to consider a filter for my brain to my mouth.
“You were ten seconds from enjoying it.”
Damn. I’m fucking speechless. Again.
He looks me over like he’s checking for signs of life with just his eyes. I think I’m still breathing at least. “Do you still want to work on the song?” he asks. “Or do you want to kick me out?”
I wince. “I’m not kicking you out. You’re not even pissing me off.”
At this, he gives me another up-down. My body is on fire. Okay, okay, how long has he been checking me out and how long have I not fucking noticed? Gay. He’s gay. I must’ve really, really wanted him to be straight, but the universe likes to play practical jokes on me. I would be laughing if I weren’t trying to restrain a hard-on.
Fate. What a funny bastard.
“This one is your room?” Phoenix jerks his head toward the door beside us.
“Yeah.” We’re not about to fuck. We’re not about to fuck. I try to send the message to my pent-up brain.
“You can go take care of yourself in the bathroom,” he tells me. “I’ll wait for you in your bedroom.” He’s already turning toward my door.
I hurry ahead of him. “I’m good.” The thought of jerking off while Phoenix waits for me is literally mind-melting. I think it’s obvious he found my buttons tonight because he’s continuing to slam his hand against them. “But the offer is available for you too. I know I made you rock-hard.”
“Yeah, I saw you looking.”
“I wasn’t…” I stop myself from defending a point that needs no defense. “Bathroom is around the corner.”
“I’m good too.” He smiles tightly. “Thanks.”
My pulse is on an ascent. I don’t think it’s slowed since I opened the door and saw him there.
He motions for me to twist the knob. Am I stalling? “Any day now, Cobalt god.”
I could banter back, glad you’re admitting you know what I am, but I worry I’ll sound breathless with how much oxygen is escaping my lungs.
He’s not standing still. He’s shifting his weight, then his hand slides against his jaw, his lips. Restless. Next-level impatient. I hate that I find this flaw attractive. What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing. I’m amazing. Horny for my bandmate, but undoubtedly amazing.
I finally turn the doorknob, and when I enter my room, I realize there was something I totally and completely forgot to warn Phoenix about.
12
TOM COBALT
An uncaged, jubilant stark-white bird shifts excitedly on his window perch. He rocks side to side like he has to piss, radiating joy at the mere presence of people. Reminds me a lot of Ben, actually. Not the piss part, just the happiness in the company of others.
I smile a little.
“Hey, ho!” he squawks as I close the door behind my drummer.
Phoenix stalls out three feet into the room. The privacy curtains are drawn open, so Ben’s side is in full view—along with the Versailles of bird cages. It’s almost the length of Ben’s fucking bed. The number of toys would make a dog jealous.
His eyes narrow at the sulfur-crested cockatoo. “You have a bird?”
“My brother, Ben, has a bird.” I gesture to Ben’s side where his checkered quilt is tucked neatly into the wooden frame. My bed is also nicely made. I am not a slob, for the record. I’ve already warned Phoenix that I’m sharing a room with my little brother, but I missed giving him a memo about the bird.
In my defense, this is a very new development. As in Ben brought home the cockatoo (and his insane amount of belongings) this morning. He did “okay” it with me last night, but what was I going to say? No?
My goal of being the best brother does not include rejecting Ben’s wishes to get a pet with his demonic girlfriend.
The cockatoo hops off the wooden perch and to the floor. Phoenix moves backward, then takes deliberate steps around my bed while the bird bounces toward me. The yellow feathers on his head fan out in excitement.
I frown at Phoenix. “Are you allergic?”
He slides me a glare. “I don’t like birds.” He grimaces like he sees the trap he’s fallen into. “Don’t—”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, but the irony is too good. Your name is literally Phoenix. Please tell me your brother is scared of them too.”
“Did I say scared? Fucking hell, we’re going to need to get cotton swabs so you can unclog your ears.”
The bird is at my feet. He hops on my sock, then tries to climb my leg. I’m betting he already loves perching on my six-five brother. Thankfully I am well-versed in caring for birds because of Ben’s childhood pets, but this is the first cockatoo he’s ever had. This feathery chaos-maker is larger, more vocal, and more curious than Ben’s cockatiels were (RIP).