Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
It was hard to believe jetting from one end of the state to the other had once been normal for me. In my college days, I’d hop a flight in Lansing to Grosse Pointe or the UP or wherever I was expected to be. I hadn’t thought twice about it till Troy had come home with me one weekend and nearly blown a gasket.
“You have your own plane? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s not my plane. It’s…”
“Your family’s,” he’d finished. “Still weird, Dex. Still weird.”
Hey, I wasn’t completely ignorant. I’d known even then that my family was different. Most of my teammates were from solid middle-class upbringings. My buddy Joe’s mom was a teacher, his dad was a mailman, and get this…they’d actually liked each other, the only time they’d traveled on a plane together was the summer they’d gone to Florida to visit his grandmother.
I hadn’t been able to relate. I’d never known my grandparents, my dad had opted for a guest-star role in my life, and my mother had been…busy. Always busy. I’d grown up with drivers, nannies, private tutors, and private jets at my disposal.
Now…I felt like a wary visitor. I used to swim in these waters, but it hadn’t been home for a long, long time.
Fuck, this was a bad idea.
I slid my sunglasses on my nose and glanced out the window of the four-person jet. “We should be landing soon. How you doin’?”
“I’m better than you are. Drink this.” Viggo uncapped a water bottle and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I took a sip, set the bottle on the table in front of us, and picked at the label. “I changed my mind. Let’s rent a car and drive to Lansing. I’ll call my mom and tell her I had an emergency and I’ll tell her about Freya at the same time, and she’ll be happy about that, and she won’t care that I’m not there. Or maybe she won’t be happy and that’s definitely a possibility, so either way, I think my actual presence is superfluous. I’m sorry I wasted your day and—”
Viggo put his hand over my mouth and replaced it with his lips. The kiss was rough yet sweet, and it made my toes curl in my Nikes. He nipped my chin and sat back. “You worry too much. You’re here, I’m here, the fish are here, and we’ll have lots of sex. Everything is fine.”
“My mom is—”
“Shh. It’ll be okay. If it’s not, we’ll leave and find more fish and have more sex.”
“So, this really is all about sex?” I joked feebly.
He nodded, linking our fingers as the jet crested an air pocket, rattling the interior. The water bottle toppled and rolled to the edge of the table. Viggo caught it and raised the bottle triumphantly. It was silly, but I laughed anyway.
“Thanks for coming. I apologize in advance.”
“Dex?”
My lips quirked. He’d been calling me Dex instead of Dexter lately. I liked it. “Yes?”
“No talking. No more worrying.”
I didn’t argue this time. He held my hand and didn’t let go till the wheels touched down.
The cabin was kind of…cute. It was a yellow shingle house with a white porch and pansies hanging in baskets from the eaves. It was probably built in the 1960s as a summer house for a small family. Emphasis on small. Viggo had to duck his head to get through the front door.
I dumped my bag on the shag carpet in the living room and scanned the interior. It was a little dated, but it smelled like freshly-squeezed lemons and literally every surface—from the Formica table for two in the kitchenette to the coffee table stacked with boardgames and the mirror over the brick fireplace—gleamed.
“Not bad,” I commented.
Viggo grunted and skirted around me to check out the bedroom. “Small bed.”
“It said it was a queen online.”
“Looks like a double.”
He was right.
I made a face. “We’re going to be cozy.”
“I hope you don’t snore too much.” He sighed, perching on the mattress and kicking off his shoes.
“Hmph.” I glanced at my watch. “Are you hungry? There’s a store up the road. I’m not sure how late it’s open, so—what are you doing?”
Viggo stripped to his boxers, folded the covers back, and lay with his hands behind his head in an uber relaxed pose. “I’m going to take a nap. You should join me.”
My gaze roamed his big body and just like that, I forgot that this weekend was a family matter and that Viggo was here as a liaison to Freya and—okay, that last part wasn’t true. It was the story my mother would understand and approve of, but truthfully, he’d come for me—and fish and sex. And while the weekend might suck for me, I wanted it to be good for Viggo.
“Uh…okay.” I yanked my sweater over my head, toed off my shoes, then collapsed on the mattress, rolling sideways to face him. I palmed his cock through the cotton barrier and kissed his biceps, his chest, his left nipple. I hooked my thumb under the elastic band and—