Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I must’ve had enough to drink to at least let me pass out despite being miserably hot with a horrible headache, because hours later, I woke up, stiff and sore. My headache was even worse. It hurt to open my eyes, so I kept them half-shut, but I could see a hint of light in the sky. I should drag myself home, but before I could convince myself to move, I heard someone coming toward me and looked toward the path.
A man was coming toward me. He was tall, with dark hair and tanned skin, and he wore nothing but a tiny pair of shorts.
He was the hottest man I’d ever seen.
I couldn’t look away. There was something about him beyond how hot he was—something that I felt deep in my soul.
Dear God, I wanted him. I wondered what he’d do if I tackled him right there and begged him to do anything he wanted to me.
I’d hooked up with men on the DL before. My frat brothers had no idea, and I was happy to keep it that way, but every time, it was so good to be pushed to my knees and used or to have a big, rough hand jerk me off. When I craved that badly enough, I went out seeking it.
I told myself I wasn’t gay, but I never felt anything like that when I slept with women. It was pleasant to get off, but that was all. Deep in my brain, I knew what that meant, but I never let those thoughts come to the surface. Like most serious things in my life, they were something I would deal with later—or maybe never.
I knew what was expected of me, and it sure as hell wasn’t being caught fucking a man at dawn on a running path, but if he asked…
He glanced my way but didn’t acknowledge me with a wave or smile. He just kept on running, giving me a chance to see that he was just as hot from behind. He had incredible back muscles, and his ass was round and so fucking bitable. I wanted to eat it.
I wished he’d at least smiled at me, but I realized how I would appear to him. I surely looked like a crazy person, wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket, my hair probably sticking out all over. Of course he didn’t speak to me—or stop to see if I wanted to suck him off mid-run.
He probably wasn’t interested in men anyway.
Maybe I could change his mind.
Or maybe I should get over myself, go home, and take a shower. I wasn’t likely to see him again anyway.
2
DANTE
Iran a hand through my hair as I closed out of the journal article I’d been reading. It was my first day of the semester, and I had biochemistry in a few minutes. I typically enjoyed teaching, but I was deep in a research rabbit hole, and I wanted to stay there.
As I stood and grabbed my jacket, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and sighed.
My brother, Lorenzo, wanted me to call him as soon as I could. What was up now? Something new with the Russians? Some other faction ready to go to war with us? Why the hell had I been born into a crime family?
Was Lorenzo going to push me to get involved in family business? Thank fuck I hadn’t been invited to Dmitri Koslov’s party. That was Lorenzo’s problem, not mine. Had I ever really thought I could get out of the family business, that once I had my PhD, I could live my life as a professor and put all the violence, scheming, and criminal behavior behind me?
No, I’d always known better, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself.
If it weren’t for the money the family brought in, you wouldn’t be where you are.
That was true, and I loved my brothers and even my cousin Remington, who fancied himself king of the New Orleans criminal world, but I wanted a different life.
Do you really?
Yes. I did. But the way I’d grown up had branded me. I knew what I was capable of, and I wasn’t sure I could ever live like a regular person. I knew what my family would do for me if I asked, but I also knew there would be expectations. I couldn’t have Remington snap his fingers and get me a job and a huge research budget without owing something back.
I pushed those thoughts from my mind and texted Lorenzo. Got class now. Call you after.
I slipped on my jacket. I liked to present a professional appearance, especially on the first day, and it helped that the air-conditioning stayed at meat-locker temperatures during the first weeks of class. Nothing said New Orleans in August like gasping for breath in the humidity, then freezing as soon as you stepped indoors.