Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Casey was shaking and clutching him each time the thunder roared and lightning flashed in the dark room. His boy was frightened, and he hadn’t been there.
He’d dozed off in the comfortable chair as he’d weighed his options over accepting Thorn’s contract.
Shame washed over him as he realized maybe that was why he was alone. Maybe that was why his boy had voided their contract and found himself another Sir—a better one to care and protect him.
I can’t lose him already. I haven’t even had a real chance.
Galan squeezed Casey tight, earning a delicate moan against his pulse. He held back his tremor at the feel of a hot, sweet boy wrapped around him and needing him.
Galan walked back into Casey’s room, but there was no escaping the sounds of the goddamn nor’easter ravaging the surf.
If only the condo had some blackout curtains or blinds, it might not be so bad, but he supposed that defeated the purpose of beachfront property.
Casey’s firm thighs were gripping his waist so tight that Galen was able to use both hands to unbutton his pants and kick them off without Casey falling.
The thunder hit hard enough for him to feel it in his bones. He hurried and laid Casey on the bed, then settled on top of him.
Galan pulled the thick comforter over their heads to black out the world around them.
Casey spread his legs wide, and fuck, why was the skin on his inner thighs so smooth?
Casey moaned as Galan shifted and made himself comfortable.
Once his boy stopped shaking, Galan pulled his face from the shelter of his throat. He didn’t say anything as he rubbed his beard over Casey’s soft face. The thunder roared again, but this time, Casey didn’t flinch or gasp in fear, seeming a bit more relaxed with Galan over him.
“Do you wanna talk to me?” Galan rumbled against Casey’s temple before he kissed him there gently.
Casey sighed before he answered. “My parents and I were on our way back to Virginia after one of my concerts when we drove right into a bad storm.”
Oh no.
“Lightning struck a power line a few feet in front of us. My dad lost control, and the car flipped into a flooded ditch.” Casey trembled, as if he were reliving the memory. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound. That screeching wail the lightning made when it hit.”
Galan could feel Casey’s heartache like his own. It was bittersweet that he and Casey had such a strong connection, but the reason they were kindred spirits hurt. Pain was a powerful tether to hold two people together.
“When did this happen?”
Casey shook his head as if he didn’t want to admit that information, but he didn’t have a choice. Galan intended to be Casey’s Sir, his guardian, his everything he needed. If his boy was dealing with new or old trauma, Galan needed to know.
“Answer me, Casey.”
“Four years ago, Sir,” Casey murmured as he rubbed his cheek over Galan’s, taking, not asking, for the comfort he needed, and Galan allowed it. “Lincoln found me a year after that. I was on the Compostella Bridge in Norfolk, about to jump. I wanted to die, Sir. I was all alone, orphaned, and I’d lost my love for music. Lincoln brought me to Thorn, to Belladonna…to heal. And that’s what I did for two and a half years before I told Thorn I was ready for my Master…ready for you, Galan.”
Galan hugged Casey with all the strength and adoration he could muster. He could already see that his boy was strong and resilient, but he was also hurting.
He was still clearly traumatized from his past, so Galan had to decide whether he was in the correct mindset to be the Sir Casey needed him to be.
I can.
It was a personal vow.
He could be what Casey needed—steady when he trembled, gentle when he hurt, his anchor when he drifted toward bad memories.
But first, he owed his sweet boy an apology.
“Casey,” Galan murmured, pulling back enough to cradle his soft cheeks between his hands. He brushed the damp hair from his forehead, studying the fear still lurking in those sky-blue eyes. “I should’ve been here when you woke. I let my guard down—and that won’t happen again.”
Casey’s chin quivered as he tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sob against Galan’s chest.
He tightened his embrace, letting the sound cut him as deep as it needed to. He deserved the guilt. It was a reminder of the responsibility he’d taken the moment he stepped inside Casey’s condo.
“I can’t erase your past, or the way your parents died. I can’t take away those nights when no one came to hold you in the dark. But I can promise you this, boy, you’ll never face a storm alone again. Not as long as I draw breath.”