Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“This better be good,” he says, voice rough, like he’s either been sleeping, trying to sleep, or, hell, maybe he’s been up drinking and smoking until his throat is raw. Maybe he’s doing it because of me, because I let him blow me and then I blew him, before walking out on him and ignoring him for a week.
“It’s me. Hunter.” I want to bang my head into the building because of fucking course he knows my voice.
The pause goes on so long, I think maybe he walked away, maybe he’s going to show me what it’s like to be ignored, and I would deserve that. But Lucas doesn’t do that. The door buzzes, and he says, “Come up.”
I don’t remember going inside. One moment I’m outside the door, the next I’m upstairs, not even having the chance to knock before the door opens. He looks sleep-rumpled, in nothing but low-slung pajama pants, with no underwear band sticking out. Had he been sleeping naked? Pulled them on when I woke him?
Lucas runs his fingers through his hair, then lowers his arm, his muscles moving and tightening. “Hunt…”
I open my mouth to respond, even though I still don’t know what to tell him, but I don’t want to talk. As much as we need to, as much as he deserves an explanation, right now I just…want.
That’s it. I want.
Like the last time, I don’t think, simply feel, and the next thing I know, his face is in my hands, my mouth sealed to his. For a second, two, three, he doesn’t move, doesn’t kiss me back, and then his arms are around me, tongue pushing between my lips.
Lucas pulls me into the condo, shoving the door closed behind me as we kiss and stumble through the room. His hand slides between us, cupping my hardening dick through my track pants, before reaching around to grab my ass. I moan into his mouth, my body nothing but sensation, like I’m siphoning off good feelings from him and taking them inside me. He doesn’t stop kissing me, and I sure as shit don’t stop kissing him. We almost trip over the couch, then chuckle into each other’s mouths as Lucas keeps going, pulling me to his bedroom.
This is the first time I’m seeing it. He’s got a huge wall of windows overlooking West Hollywood, and in the center is a black king-size bed with dark bedding and flanked by black nightstands—one of them holding a water bottle, a pack of cigarettes, and lube.
I pull back and eye it, Lucas saying, “I jerked off earlier, thinking about you. Not the first time I’ve thought about you when I make myself come, Hunt.”
A wave of trembles races down my spine. I love the way he says what’s on his mind, the way he puts it all out there, not caring if it’s appropriate or the right time to say what he wants, because no matter what, Lucas is always himself.
“Can I fuck you?” I ask, voice raw.
Instead of replying, Lucas hooks his fingers in the waistband of his pajamas, pulling them down. He’s hard like me, long and eager, his balls full and heavy. My mouth waters at the sight of them. I want to suck them, breathe in the scent of him as I make a home in his groin.
“I guess that answers that,” he says.
“What?”
“I wondered about you. Top? Bottom?”
“Vers,” I answer.
“Me too, but I mostly top.”
“Oh. We can…” I really don’t care either way. I just want him. God help me, but I want the last person I should.
“You can fuck me, Hunter. I want you to fuck me.” He lies down on the bed, legs spread, hand on his cock, stroking. “How do you want me?”
Every way. However I can have him, until we have to walk away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Hunter
“Right there for now.” He makes a beautiful sight with his slender body and the dreamy look in his eyes. Just moments ago, he looked tired, half-asleep, maybe a little sad, but now he looks rejuvenated.
Except maybe the sadness is still there too. Maybe it’s always been there, but I’ve never taken the time to see it. I feel like so many things with Lucas have gone unnoticed because in his family, he was never the most important person in the room.
I take off my shoes and socks, my gaze never leaving Lucas. He jacked off thinking of me, maybe lying right there in that bed, replaying memories of our night together as he played with that delicious fucking cock of his and made himself come.
“Do you need a minute?” I ask him.
“I’m fine,” he replies, and I remove my pants and underwear, then my shirt, before climbing onto the bed and lying on top of him. Lucas’s legs immediately wrap around me as if he’s trying to hold me close, like if he doesn’t, I might walk out again.