Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
"Make sure you put me in as green eyes big dick!" Dalton laughs and waves at me on his way off to the bathroom. Why did he have to say that? Now all I can think about is his eyes pinning me down as I choked on his meat.
I need to put a stop to this madness and come up with a structure designed to fulfill my needs, because for once, life will not do it for me. Dalton is insanely hot, available at any time, and seems to have the libido of a Duracell bunny. I have to establish boundaries.
With hookups in the past, I would have had a clear-cut situation. They’d exit my hotel room, or I’d leave the city. When we were done, we were done. But Dalton, he… lives with me now. Last night, he slept with me, and I don’t know how to put a stop to it all… or whether I really want to in the first place.
My phone vibrates again, and once more, it’s my mother calling. I’m on the verge of picking up, just as a means to distract myself from thinking about Dalton’s cock, but I know that if I pick up, it’ll be an hour out of my life, because she likes the sound of her own voice, and I never know how to finish the call with her.
Whatever she needs to tell me about my life choices will have to wait.
Chapter 16
Corvus
I did not get to stick to my routine.
First, we had to stop at a store, because Dalton didn’t have an appropriate jacket, or shoes for that matter. Then, I needed to slow down so he wouldn't fall too far behind. I was annoyed at first, but when he started coughing, I begrudgingly adjusted my pace to his. It’s late, so the park isn’t as empty as it is during my usual runs, but fortunately the northern side of it, with its snow-covered woods isn’t as popular, so I still get to enjoy a decent workout, even though the pull-up bars are overrun by kids, and I can’t be bothered to wait for my turn.
Eventually though, following a lap around the lake, Dalton’s stomach grumbles so loudly it can’t be ignored, and I snort with laughter. “Is that also because of the smoke?”
Dalton huffs, steam like a cloud out of his mouth. “Oh, give me a break. I’m perfectly fine,” he claims as he bends forward, hands on thighs, catching his breath.
Do I feel smug? Maybe a little.
“There’s a hot sandwich truck parked nearby. How about some breakfast?” I offer, leading the way down the hill. It’s cold enough that the dirty snow doesn’t turn into slush, and I stretch, unzipping my jacket around the neck. Strangely enough, after a few minutes in the park, my worries about the possibility of him running away have settled. He follows me like a dog without a leash.
“Oh, fuck yes!” Dalton has to jog a little to catch up with me, but when he’s finally at my side, he… slides his fingers between mine with such confidence and ease, I’m not sure how to react, torn between the instinct to pull away (this is a public park after all), and squeezing him back with the excitement of a schoolboy.
I settle on leaving my hand in his like some limp fish.
But my mind races.
He’s my fiancé. I came out to my family. Should I not care what anyone in the park thinks? Is it even like me to hold hands with anyone though? Dalton is a means to an end after all. Then again, if it does bring me pleasure to hold his hand (does it?) then should I not do as I please? Isn’t that kind of attitude desired from a Van der Horn man?
Dalton doesn’t seem to have any such qualms, because his smile only widens once we face the food truck menu. “Grilled cheese? Yes please.”
I choose to go with a more balanced grilled chicken and avocado on wholegrain bread, but it’s not like he is the one who needs to watch his diet because—well, because of what we’ll surely do later today. It’s inevitable. We’re two attractive men with voracious sexual appetites. At this point, it’s just a question of where we’ll fuck, and whether it happens before or after all that necessary shopping I need to do for him.
“Are you paying together?” asks the guy in the food truck, and I can practically hear Dalton taking a deep breath.
Of course. He doesn’t have any money on him.
But I ignore the moment of tension and nod, placing cash on the little money tray.
Dalton seems thoughtful as our food is getting made, and I can picture the emasculation drama unravelling in his mind, but I won’t start the subject if he doesn’t, and especially not in front of a stranger.