Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Xander squeezed his eyes shut at the ache between his legs.
Cassidy Morrison was too much fucking man. Too self-controlled and mature in a way that made the overzealous men Xander had been avoiding for the last year feel even more incapable.
Cassidy’s age was a serious weapon. There was something about the lines in his face, the graying at his temple, his discipline, the authority that radiated from him. Then there was the fact he’d already lived through things most men wouldn’t’ve survived.
Since coming out a year ago, Xander hadn’t dated. But not from a lack of offers.
There’d been plenty of hot, eager, camera-ready men who slid into his messages or mailed him ab pics with suggestive proposals. But he couldn’t help but wonder whether they wanted him or to be associated with his name…and money.
He also hated the idea of meeting online, which he understood was the norm now. But, swiping through faces on dating sites felt less like looking for a connection and more like shopping from a catalog.
Before that, there’d been one man who had mattered.
His on-and-off secret boyfriend from his freshman year in college—if those hidden trysts could even be called a relationship. They’d been young, scared, and careful.
Cassidy was none of that.
After all these years, Cassidy was a hell of a man to be his first.
Xander pushed away from the wall and went back to the kitchen before he embarrassed himself further.
He added ice to his orange juice, even though it was already cold, but champagne would be a much better addition. Better yet, a Bloody Mary. Top-shelf vodka, spicy with a fresh stalk of celery stalk and a couple of slices of bacon. That would take the edge off his nerves and lust.
He bet the hotel’s restaurant made a delicious one.
Xander almost went to the phone to order room service out of instinct, before he remembered Free’s booby traps.
He’d have to go downstairs himself.
It should be okay to sit at a very public hotel bar. The place was full of people, cameras, staff, security. Seemed reasonable.
He’d text Cassidy so no one thought he’d vanished or tried to escape protective custody.
He sent the quick text.
Going downstairs to the hotel restaurant. Let me know when it’s time to go up and meet with God.
He almost chuckled. The message sounded as if he was planning to leave this world and meet his maker.
Calling a man God was going to take some getting used to.
He stared at the message after it sent.
Then added…
I won’t leave the hotel.
He went back into his room, grabbed his ball cap, sunglasses, and wallet from the nightstand. At the suite door, he slid the sunglasses into place and took a breath.
I’m fine, it’s one little drink at a public bar, there’ll be dozens of people around.
He opened the door, but it was slammed shut before he took a single step.
Xander jumped and spun around so fast he almost lost his balance. He pulse kicked hard before he realized it was Cassidy looming over him.
Still shirtless and sweating.
He had a large white towel draped over his shoulders, the ends hanging down over a chest that shouldn’t’ve been allowed near him before he’d had that damn Bloody Mary.
Cassidy was so close Xander could feel heat coming off him in waves. The scent of sweat, hot skin, and something darker filled the narrow space between them, sharp enough to make his mouth go dry.
The earbuds were gone. His hair was damp, and brushed back from his face, his beard dark around a mouth he wanted to consume him.
Xander stared straight ahead because looking up would be a mistake.
Unfortunately, straight ahead was worse.
Droplets of sweat slid between the heavy cut of Cassidy’s pecs, threading through the dark hair and leaving it damp, slick, and impossible not to stare at. His stomach was tight, clenched in a way that seemed as if he was holding his breath.
“Xander, where are you going?” he growled, his deep voice rolling over Xander.
He dragged his gaze away from Cassidy’s chest to see him frowning down at him, jaw firm, whiskey-brown eyes sizzling with heat.
He swallowed. “I was just going downstairs.”
Cassidy
“I was just going downstairs.”
Cassidy glared.
Just going downstairs.
He was trying to comprehend how that made sense. As if Xander hadn’t been hiding in a closet twelve hours ago while someone—smart and determined—had hacked his security, cut his power, and put a bullet through his bedroom door to get to him.
What the fuck was he thinking?
Cassidy took a slow breath to pull himself back from the edge before his temper overruled his judgment.
The second he pulled air into his lungs, Xander’s scent came with it.
His body, already overheated from the workout, burned hotter, that light, sensual fragrance curling through him until all he could think about was finding the place where it lingered and putting his mouth there.