Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Yup. Also, I know that definitely didn’t qualify as singing a song around a campfire, but I knew you’d bring your A-game. I had to bring mine, too.”
He wasn’t ready to let this go. “Do you have routines to other songs, or just that one?”
“I have dozens,” I admitted. “I’ve been practicing since I was ten.”
“You’re ready for the stage, Kit. I get that stage fright is a concern, but muscle memory would kick in, no matter how nervous you were.”
“But what if I tried it and failed miserably? It would be so embarrassing.”
He looked so hopeful as he said, “What if you tried it and succeeded beyond your wildest expectations? Come on, Kit. Isn’t it worth a try?”
I considered that for a few moments before saying, “I will if you will.”
“What?”
“You’re afraid to get on a stage just like I am, Devon. So, I’ll do it if you do, too.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes and no. You’re afraid it’ll be great, and you’ll realize you missed your chance to make your dreams come true. But every single day you’re here on this earth, living and breathing, that chance still exists! What difference does it make if you end up performing for years, or months, or days? All that matters is that you try, no matter how scary it is, and no matter how many excuses you can come up with not to do it.”
“Okay. When we visit your friends in Austin, let’s find a bar and a drag club, both with open mic nights. I’ll get up and sing if you perform in drag. To hell with all of our excuses.”
“I like that idea. If I’m ever going to get up onstage, I’d prefer to do it in a town where I don’t know anyone. That’ll be so much better than choking in front of the entire drag community in San Francisco. But I might end up chickening out, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Too late. They’re already way, way up.” He kissed me before saying, “For now though, let’s see if we can find a song we both know, because I really want to sing a duet with you.”
“I don’t think we’re going to come up with anything, not unless you’re secretly into girl groups, or divas.”
“I know some divas. How about this one?”
He started to play a song I recognized on the guitar. I flashed him two thumbs up, and both of us launched into a totally over-the-top rendition of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.”
Later that night, we changed into warm sweats, visited the slightly scary cinderblock restroom, and converted the van into a cozy bedroom. After we slid under the pile of blankets, I said, “We haven’t had a chance to see much of this place, since we got here in the late afternoon. What do you think about staying an extra day?”
“It’s your call.”
“But what do you want?”
Devon said softly, “I just want to be wherever you are.”
When I brushed my lips to his, he responded by sliding closer and deepening the kiss. After spending the last few nights sleeping chastely in my father’s apartment, it turned out both of us were more than ready to break the drought.
We undressed quickly but stayed under the three layers of blankets, because it had gotten very cold once the sun went down. Devon took control, kissing and caressing me and making me feel absolutely wonderful. At one point, he sat up and studied me in the soft light of our little lantern, tracing my cheek as he said softly, “You’re so beautiful, Kit. You take my breath away.”
I’d never felt beautiful. I thought of myself as mousy, unremarkable, the kind of guy who never got a second glance. But in that moment, when I heard the sincerity in his voice and saw the look in his eyes, I believed it.
I whispered, “You make me feel so good.” What I wanted more than anything in that moment was to make him feel good, too.
I rolled us over and explored his body, seeking out his most sensitive spots, the ones that made him catch his breath, and squirm, and moan. He was wonderfully expressive. I slid over him, skin against skin, kissing and tasting every part of him, learning what gave him the most pleasure.
There were a million things I wanted to say to him. All of it was too much, too soon. But even if I couldn’t tell him how I felt, I could show him.
I used my mouth and hands and tongue to take him right to the edge, and then I held him there, feeling the way his body trembled beneath my touch. I wanted to give him the best orgasm of his life, and the only way that would happen was if I let it build.
I kept going until he begged for release. Finally, I wrapped my lips around his swollen, sensitive tip, sucking hard before sliding down his shaft. He came within seconds, with a yell unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It was utterly primal, his body bucking beneath me, his hands grasping the sheets as he threw his head back.