Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I don’t know what I expected, other than the fact that kissing Hunter seems like trying to kiss a fucking viper.
He’s straight, and that’s not even the worst thing about it.
This was a terrible idea, one I’m going to pay for, no doubt.
But I’m under the control of something way more potent than rationality right now.
I want to kiss him like I saw that fucking bastard kissing Mikael. To put on a show.
I take a risk and slide my tongue out along Hunter’s lips.
And then he pushes me back just a little, giving me a hard stare.
“I’m not into men, Rayne,” he says softly. “Care to explain what the fuck you think you’re doing?”
Reality zooms back into focus.
I realize I’m shaking a little as Hunter feels for my hand.
He realizes it, too.
And then the look in his eyes changes, like he’s getting some satisfaction from this.
He likes that I’m trembling.
His grip suddenly lands hard on my wrist, yanking me further forward.
I feel his other hand land on my jaw, and he cups me there, holding me in place.
Staring at me, with rage or… something else.
But then he leans in and crushes his lips to mine again. And this time he takes my mouth like he owns me.
4
Hunter
My first instinct when someone gets in close to me is to pull a very sharp knife on them.
Rayne Colson had come at me like he was looking for a fight.
Face flushed, with a furrowed brow.
I knew he fucking wanted something from me.
I assumed it would be something more violent, which I was more than ready to entertain.
But he had the nerve to take something else from me.
Something I’d never give to him freely.
And I’m going to hurt him for it.
I bite down hard on his lower lip and feel him moan a little at the sudden flash of pain. Hurting him like that makes some circuit in my brain get crosswired, and my cock hardens.
Not the first time inflicting pain has made me hard.
Certainly the first time it was another man who made it happen.
I can taste whiskey and Coke as I give his tongue a little suck, making sure to nip him there too.
I push my tongue deeper into his mouth this time, bringing one hand up to cup his throat.
The slim flick knife in my pocket could be up against his throat in half a second. Part of me still wants to destroy him for catching me off guard.
You going to let me claim you?
How far are you going to take this?
The moment I give his neck a squeeze, he pulls away, giving me a wide-eyed stare.
I didn’t choke him.
Not even close.
It was just a hint. A suggestion. A reminder that I could end him.
He looks like a deer in headlights.
I look him up and down. “So are you trying to fuck me, Colson, or did you just need a goodnight kiss?”
He doesn’t answer.
His lips are slick and a little swollen from how hard he kissed me. His chestnut-brown hair is a little disheveled, and I can’t deny he looks better than ever. Rayne apparently lets his scruff grow out sometimes now, too.
He looks… harder.
You still have those big, brown puppy dog eyes, though.
I know exactly how soft you are on the inside.
He turns and darts a glance over toward a group of students in the corner.
He’s looking at two girls and two guys, all of them dressed immaculately and blowing cigar smoke out an open window.
And finally he talks to me.
“Not trying to fuck you. You were just a means to an end.”
The people in the corner keep glancing over at us.
And puzzle pieces begin to fit together in my mind.
“Did you just kiss me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous? Pretty sadistic for a good boy like you.”
“Fuck off,” he mutters, taking a step back away from me. “Ex-boyfriend, not girlfriend. But thanks for assuming.”
Damn.
So Colson finally did come out of the closet.
Apparently a lot of things have changed in the two years I spent in London.
Rayne is a sophomore in college now, and his face is still boyish, but his body is clearly built from months and months of hard work.
He’s wobbly on his feet as he steps away from me.
I have to reach out to steady him by his arm before he knocks over a half-full glass of whiskey on a table behind him.
He’s drunker than I realized.
I can see the regret hitting his expression in real time, like he’s realizing the enormity of the mistake he made.
“My brother isn’t in this room. Relax,” I tell him as his eyes glance around the room again. “Weston didn’t see your little stunt. I won’t tell him how much you missed me.”
“Didn’t miss you at all.”
“Not even a little? Your tongue says otherwise, Rayne—”
He reaches out like he wants to shove me.