Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Rob inclined his chin, and it was all the invitation I needed. I gripped his length, squeezing his base slightly as I licked a path to his slit. I twirled my tongue at his crown, lapping up precum like a hungry cat before opening wide. He set a hand on my head and groaned, low and needy.
I hummed around his cock, sucking, licking, stroking. It had been a while for me and God, it felt so good to worship dick. No, not just any dick. This was Rob fucking Vilmer. My memories of him in college might have been hazy, but I’d watched his NFL games. I’d seen his powerful body in action, obliterating opponents like a warrior in battle. He was wildly strong and fierce, and nothing turned me on quite as much as knowing he was hard for me.
I couldn’t drag this out and make him beg me. Not this time. I wanted to deep-throat him, taste him, swallow every drop of—
Rob pushed my forehead in warning, pulling his cock free and panting as he met my gaze.
“I’m gonna come.”
“Give it to me,” I demanded.
He squeezed his eyes shut but didn’t protest. I pumped his shaft, flicking my tongue under his crown and sucking it. Two seconds later, he erupted with a strangled growl. I took it all. Everything he had.
I sat on my heels, wiping the corner of my mouth as I looked up at Rob blinking his way back to reality. Was I feeling smug and a little satisfied? Fuck, yeah, I was.
“C’mere.” Rob pulled me to my feet.
I was so caught up in filthy dirty kisses, I barely registered that he’d undone my jeans until he was jerking me off. It was sensory overload in the extreme, and there was no way to fall apart with dignity. He silenced my roar with his mouth, softening the connection as I slowly returned to reality.
Oh.
Shit.
I just blew my neighbor.
Christ, not so long ago, I’d sworn I’d never touch Rob again, and look at me now.
There was no point in pretending we didn’t know exactly where this was going, but I was me, so…
“We shouldn’t do this.” I plucked a few tissues from the box on his desk, head lowered as I cleaned up.
Rob straightened my collar, and met my glowering expression with a sunny grin. “No, but we will.”
I frowned, unable to think of a single F U or a sweet comeback to put him in his place.
The best I could do was, “Do something about your crooked sign. This is a respectable neighborhood.”
His melodic laughter followed me all the way out the door. And I couldn’t blame him.
Not one little bit.
9
MATEO
The afternoon crowd had dwindled to a few regulars, a couple in the corner checking out a map on an iPad, and a few football players from Great H. I didn’t advertise that I was once one of them. I didn’t have to. My bigmouth cousin usually did the honors.
“You know who this guy is?” Vanni paused in the middle of ringing up Sal’s special to hike his thumb in my direction. “Former award-winning QB for you guys. He took Great H to the championship three years in a row for the first time in like…forty-five years. And they won. Did you say extra cheese?”
“Uh…yes, sir.” The fresh-faced kid politely smiled the way I probably had when introduced to someone who’d been relevant while I was in fourth grade and my biggest worry had been beating my cousins’ scores at whatever video game we’d been obsessed with at the time.
I wasn’t proud to admit that I’d gone through a period of feeling ashamed that I hadn’t achieved more after college. You might say I was a work in progress in that area, and yeah, Rob’s presence had certainly ignited those old feelings of inadequacy, but I was getting better at letting go of the past.
Football wasn’t my life anymore and hadn’t been for years. That was okay. The trick was to figure out if running this pizza parlor was going to be enough for me.
But I’d save my heavier thoughts for after business hours. In the meantime, I fist-bumped the kid and wished him good luck at the game this weekend.
Vanni set the new order on the rack, raising his brows in question. “You goin’ to the game?”
“Friday night? No, I’m working, genius.” I filled drinks from the soda machine and set them on the counter.
“Oh, well…one of us could cover for you if you want to go,” he offered.
“Thanks, but—”
“Yeah, yeah…another time,” Vanni intercepted, quickly changing the topic. “I hear we’re doing the bake-off with the bagel folks.”
“No one officially agreed to a bake-off.”
“Amber said you did, and—hey, what do you know? Here they come.”
I turned to the entrance just as Amber swept into the pizzeria with a bemused Rob trailing in her wake. Damn it, he was hot. Twinkly eyes, broad chest, and muscles so thick his shirt struggled to contain them.