Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Still, I let the silence gather. One night with a stranger, no strings and no expectations, sounded pretty damn nice. Silas was passing through. He’d be gone in a week, maybe less.
But tonight…
“Why don’t I just show you instead?” My voice rumbled, low and huskier than usual.
His Adam’s apple slid in his throat as his gaze dipped to my mouth. “Yeah.”
I wordlessly slipped to my knees and tugged at the elastic of his long johns. The second Silas lifted his hips, I dove for his cock and swallowed him whole. He moaned aloud, raking his fingers in my hair. I played with him—deep-throating him while I fondled his balls, then licking his tip like a kitten till he growled in frustration.
I pulled away with a taunting half grin, jacking him slowly. “Want more?”
“Ungh! Yes.”
I winked, still stroking him. “Take it.”
Fire burned in his eyes as understanding dawned. Silas grabbed my head in his hands, thrust his cock between my lips, and fucked my mouth. I scratched at his upper thigh and sucked like a hoover, humming on the downstroke.
Silas muttered unintelligibly, tightening his grip and losing his rhythm. He was close. I redoubled my efforts and was almost immediately rewarded with a panicky grunt followed by sweet surrender. He cried out a warning I didn’t heed.
I swallowed every drop and sucked him dry.
“Holy…fuck,” Silas panted, flopping onto the cushions. “That was…”
I licked my lips, stroking myself as I straddled his thighs. “Too much?”
“No, it was…” He blinked wildly, his gaze fixed on my cock.
“Mmm. Fuck.” I gasped as my balls tightened and a telltale tingle of pleasure skittered along my spine.
My body tensed, and there was really no point in pretending I could last another second. I painted his stomach in cum, trembling through a wave of aftershocks.
Silas ran a finger through the mess and sucked the digit clean. The bold move surprised me.
“I think I like you,” he said in a silky, self-satisfied tone.
I fisted a handful of his thick hair, pulled his head back, and licked the column of his neck, loving his low, greedy growl.
“Good. You can return the favor.”
And that was how we spent the rest of the night and the early morning hours.
We didn’t bother with clothes or unnecessary niceties. I didn’t care about his former career, his divorce, or his sexual prowess with other men. All that mattered was now. His skin was warm, his mind sharp and curious. The only side effect of his brush with hypothermia seemed to be a voracious appetite for carnal exploration. I could live with that.
Touching, licking, twisting, writhing, hungry kisses, and soft sighs. I barely noticed the storm raging through the living room window. It was a whiteout with howling winds and never-ending snow. But inside…it was heaven.
Our conversations post-orgasms were a mix of meandering non sequiturs and halfhearted debates about popular music or movies from the early 2000s. We were passing time in a bubble where nothing and no one could reach us. This was a fragile thing, and yet it felt safe.
Eventually, we headed upstairs to shower and fell into my bed. I thought about sending Silas home, but he didn’t know his way around his friend’s house and circumstances being what they were, he was better off with me.
Just for the night.
Only tonight.
CHAPTER 6
SILAS
Add waking up naked in bed with a man to my list of firsts.
I gazed at the grizzly lumberjack softly snoring beside me, his lips parted. Yep, this was a new one. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I wasn’t nearly as freaked out as I should have been. Yesterday was…well, kind of amazing. Definitely eye-opening.
I’d known I was bi since high school. My body’s reaction to the sight of Pete Jureski’s bare ass in the shower our junior year had been a big fat clue. However, I’d ignored the signs and thrown myself into football with a ferocity that honestly should have alarmed my parents. I’d worked out constantly, kept a stringent diet, and even tried steroids for a hot second before realizing consistency and moderation was a better overall strategy.
Dating had never been a priority ’cause girls had always been available. They’d hung out at parties, cheered on their favorite players at the games, and had no qualms about letting you know they were interested. My dick had loved the attention, but I’d made a concerted effort to block out background noise in those early days—football had come first. And men were off limits. Period.
No flirting, no touching, no staring. Ever.
I’d commended my stellar control ’cause let me tell you, ignoring cute, funny guys with great smiles, hot bodies, and twinkly eyes had been very fucking hard.
However, I’d faltered in college—once with a newly divorced professor and another time with a baseball player who’d eventually signed a contract with the Padres. Neither had been serious. At all. They’d both been safe bets so deep in the closet, they were halfway to Narnia.