No Good Mitchell Read Online Riley Hart, Devon McCormack

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
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I didn’t know why it was too much…maybe the kiss…maybe the moment I felt his warm cum spraying across my abs…maybe the way he started biting on my lip, but I came too, white ropes shooting across me as my body spasmed and twisted. I fell onto my back, struggling to endure the hypersensitivity that seized control of my will.

Cohen collapsed on top of me, and I could feel the puddle of cum on us spreading as our lips collided, our noses pushing up against each other’s faces as we continued thrusting and groping. Just a fucking mess of lust, caught in whatever fever had made us lose control from the start.

We both found ourselves gasping for air as we finally pulled apart, covered in each other’s sweat and cum.

He licked my lips once more and winked. “You and Buddy ever get into that?”

“Definitely not,” I said with a chuckle.

“Does this mean I get to carve my name into the stand?”

A roar of laughter escaped my mouth, but I didn’t allow myself too much time to keep apart from him.

And as we continued kissing, licking, nibbling…from the back of my mind, my cruel conscience echoed: Big Daddy. Is. Gonna. Kill me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cohen

It was silly, but I thought I might be a little obsessed with Brody O’Ralley.

He’d taken me to the woods, where we climbed onto a damn platform on a tree and looked at deer before jerking off, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sure, it had only been a couple of days, but it had just felt so…different. Like this easy pleasure I hadn’t known existed, one that wasn’t a rush but sneaked up on you slowly until you suddenly realized how full you were of it. Which didn’t make a damn bit of sense, but there you had it.

I’d been embarrassed as hell when I’d woken up that morning. I was a goofy drunk, but always remembered what I did and said. I’d told him about my family, about illegal activity and my parents, which I’d signed an NDA not to tell anyone.

I didn’t regret it. I’d told Brody I trusted him, and I really did. There was something about him, this pure honesty with a bone-deep need to do the right thing that had me twisted up inside in a strange way.

A strange way I hated…and liked.

After our jerk-off session, we’d stayed up there a little longer. He’d pointed out more deer and some hawks. From there, he took me to the creek, exploring some of my land with me, land he seemed to know like the back of his hand.

Then he’d taken me home, kissed me at the door like a good Southern boy, and left.

And yeah, I was obsessing, and it was annoying as fuck.

“Are we gonna go shopping or what?” Isaac asked, and I groaned. We’d both been working on Mitchell Creek stuff all day—Isaac buying domains, thinking about websites and marketing, researching new ways to promote once we were up and running, while I’d been running numbers and setting budgets and adding to my business plans.

“Do we have to?” I was quickly falling in love with the house, with the land, and I enjoyed chatting with Rusty, but every time I went into town, I felt like I was on the set of some fucked-up movie about a creepy small town. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to that. Well, except when I saw Lauren. Isaac and I drank a whole lot of no-sugar-added vanilla almond milk, and sometimes Lauren worked at A Step Ahead for her mom. Sure, she’d made me crazy that first night at the Barn, but she was a riot. I had to admit she could make me laugh.

Isaac crossed his arms. “Brody would take me shopping.”

“Maybe you should ask him, then.” Plus, it wasn’t like he couldn’t take my car.

“You wish I would ask him so you could see him and go all googly-eyed over him. I was nervous you’d start humping his leg like a dog last time.”

I flipped him off. “Fuck you. Methinks someone’s jealous because Walker hasn’t made a move.”

“Pfft.” Isaac waved his hand at me. “If I wanted him, I’d have him. I don’t want, so I haven’t had. We’re…friendly. Now let’s go to the store, Cozies.”

I sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

While I’d come around and tried to fit in more with the locals, Isaac was wearing a salmon-colored button-up shirt I knew cost a pretty penny and a pair of beige shorts. He was who he was, and I loved that about him, even though I liked to give him shit.

We made the quick drive to the store, and the second we stepped inside, I felt like everyone was looking at me.

“We should make me a shirt that says something like, Yes, I’m the long-lost Mitchell.”


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