Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Teeth sinking into Apollo’s shoulder, fingers digging into his back muscles, hard enough to leave marks. Heels pressing against his ass, pushing him deeper. Body bowing up to meet his.
His strokes sped up, free hand snaking up to rub his neck and collarbone, needing that bite of teeth. Marks. He wanted the kind of sex where both people were sweaty messes, beard burn and finger bruises and bite marks.
Come splashing onto tanned skin, dripping down a muscled back.
Fuck. He was close. He spit on his palm, craving the slick to go as fast and hard as he needed.
Husky voice begging for his climax. Demanding it. Begging for Apollo to come all over him.
“Aww fuck.” Apollo came on a strangled whisper, biting his own fist to keep quiet. His body shuddered over and over. He hadn’t come this hard in years. And now he was mess, needing another shower and new boxers. But the mess of his body was nothing compared to the mess inside his brain. What the fuck had he just done? How in the hell was he supposed to face Dylan in the morning and not remember that superheated fantasy?
Chapter Seven
Dylan’s dreams all starred a certain grumpy Greek god, but when he woke up, he couldn’t remember precisely what had happened in dreamland, which was a damn shame. It had been good; he knew that much. Smiling to himself, he stretched. Man, the house smelled amazing. Pancakes. Bacon. Strong coffee.
Stomach rumbling, Dylan followed his nose downstairs.
“Baba’s making waffles!” Chloe announced from a perch on a chair. Both girls were on chairs that had been pulled up to the island, watching Apollo spoon batter onto a steaming waffle iron. Behind him, a griddle full of bacon sizzled on the stove.
“Wow. Is there enough for me?” Dylan grinned at the girls. He could totally forgo his morning protein shake for this feast.
“Yeah,” Apollo answered without really looking at him. His cheeks were stained pink, which might have been the heat of the cooking, but his shifty eyes said otherwise. Great. Things were going to be awkward after last night.
“Want me to make plates for the starving wildebeests?” Dylan tried to keep his voice light. See, no need to be uncomfortable, dorky man.
“That would be great.” Apollo gestured to a stack of plates on the island. “I usually cut the waffles for them and not too much syrup.”
“Baba! I want a river of sweet!” Chloe pouted even as she took her chair back to the table.
Dylan wanted a “river of sweet” too. Too bad the guy he wanted it with wanted nothing to do with him. He quickly made plates for the girls and delivered them to the table. He moved Sophia, chair and all, back to her spot, which made both girls laugh.
Grabbing a plate for himself, he stepped close to Apollo and dropped his voice. “You know this doesn’t have to be awkward—”
“It’s not.” Apollo’s cheeks were still pink, the liar.
“We just fell asleep. That’s all.”
“Yeah, that’s all,” Apollo mumbled. “Waffle?”
“Sure.” Dylan resisted the urge to roll his eyes because it was clear Apollo wasn’t moving on from their little nap. It wasn’t like they’d made out or even sleep-humped. Hell, Dylan hadn’t even been hard when he woke up...
Wait. Maybe the issue wasn’t that Apollo hated the sleep cuddle. Maybe he’d liked it. Dylan grinned. He loved that theory. “You know, it’s okay if you—”
Buzz. Buzz. Apollo’s phone jangled angrily on the counter. “H—darn it.
“Floros here.” Apollo’s face got tighter and tighter as he listened to whomever was on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. I can be there in forty-five. I’ll try to make it faster.”
“Baba, who was that?” Chloe said as soon as Apollo ended the call. Her little voice uncharacteristically quavered.
“Baba has to go into work. Sorry.” Apollo rubbed his head. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Could be tomorrow even—”
“I’m on it.” Dylan patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thanks.” Apollo shot him a grateful look. “There’s—oh heck. All this food I bought, but I’m not sure what’s in the freezer for lunch and dinner. I was going to cook.”
“I can handle food. Trust me. We won’t starve.”
“Pizza!” Chloe seemed to have rebounded admirably from learning Apollo would be leaving. “That’s what Ya-Ya would do.”
“I’ll see if I’ve got cash to leave—”
“Go. Get dressed.” Dylan shoved at Apollo’s aircraft-carrier chest. “I’ve got this.”
“Okay, okay.” Apollo kissed each of the girls, then hesitated briefly in front of Dylan before escaping upstairs. Yeah, things weren’t the least bit awkward between them.
A few minutes later, Apollo was back, in uniform, handing out final goodbyes and reminders as Dylan waved him toward the car.
After he was gone, Dylan started cleanup from breakfast. He knew from last weekend that Apollo froze the leftover waffles for the girls’ breakfasts during the week, so he put them away. The fridge was full of produce and big packages of meat. Heck. All that fresh food, and Apollo was scheduled to work the next few days too.