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)
He had a boyfriend.
And that boyfriend had kept him awake half the night with slow, capable hands, hot words seared into his skin, and kisses that’d left him unraveled in the sexiest way.
He stretched beneath the sheet, sore in places that made heat crawl up his neck, as he laughed quietly into the pillow.
God help him. How was he going to survive this man?
Cassidy’s side of the bed was empty, but not cold. He hadn’t been gone long. Xander pushed himself up, ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, and went to the bathroom.
He freshened up, brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face, and stood for a moment staring at himself in Cassidy’s mirror.
He was different but not in obvious ways.
There were still shadows beneath his eyes. The last week hadn’t been easy.
The press had turned Bennett Ashford’s name into a feeding frenzy after LAPD confirmed his connection to the hired attackers, and River Blackwell had come forward with a signed witness account.
Entertainment shows had run timelines, motive theories, old interviews, and comparison charts between Xander’s award wins and Celestine Ashford’s losses. The internet did what the internet did and built an empire of noise around it.
Bennett had fled the country within hours of the story breaking, which only made him appear guiltier. His lawyers released statements and his PR team denied everything. None of it mattered.
Xander wanted nothing else to do with any of it and chose to let the police and his legal team handle it. But he’d made one thing clear. He did not want to press charges against Celestine Ashford, nor did he want his legal team to harass her regarding her husband’s criminal activities.
He pulled on his boy shorts, comfortable with leaving his shirt flung over the recliner. He liked the way Cassidy feasted on his body with his dark eyes.
He followed the sound of the news playing from somewhere beyond the bedroom. Roxie and Ranger met him in the hall, except they weren’t alone. Cassidy’s fat calico cat, Scout, shot around the corner with Roxie trotting behind her and Ranger following with little interest.
Scout leapt onto the back of the sofa, looked down at both German shepherds, swatting at their heads.
Xander laughed. “What is happening here?”
Scout stared at him as if the rules of the game were obvious.
“Good morning, babies. I’m sure you’re both smart enough to outwit that spoiled cat.” Xander petted both dogs. “Good luck.”
He left through the sliding doors already open to the deck.
Cassidy sat at the patio table beneath the large umbrella, shirtless and barefoot, wearing dark sweatpants riding so low the hard cut V of his hips and the dark hair well below his navel were visible.
A large mug of coffee sat beside his laptop while the morning news played from a small outdoor television mounted on the wall. He was scrolling through something on the laptop, brows drawn, jaw set.
Xander wanted to ruin that immediately. He walked straight to him, pushed the laptop back with one hand, pulled Cassidy’s chair out with the other, and climbed onto his lap.
Cassidy gripped his hips automatically. His eyes lifted, dark and amused. “Good morning to you too.”
Xander settled more comfortably across Cassidy’s thighs. “Mmm, mornin’.”
“You planning to let me finish that email?”
“No.”
Cassidy’s thumbs moved against his hips. “You’re spoiled.”
“Recently, yes.”
Xander leaned down and put his lips to Cassidy’s throat.
“Lane,” Cassidy hummed, tilting his head back.
Xander sucked at the place beneath his jaw where Cassidy’s pulse kicked.
Cassidy groaned. “You still haven’t had enough?”
“Never.” Xander hissed.
Cassidy’s body seemed to like his answer, his cock growing thicker where it dug into Xander’s thigh.
He placed slow, open-mouthed kisses along Cassidy’s throat, savoring the delicious taste of his sun-warmed skin.
“You’re trouble,” Cassidy muttered. “In very short shorts.”
He chuckled against Cassidy’s lips. “You like ’em?”
“I love ’em.”
The word slipped out almost naturally.
They both paused.
It wasn’t the big word. Not exactly. But so close.
“I do,” Cassidy said quietly. “I love this. You sleeping in my bed and being here in the morning. In my house. On my lap. All of it.”
He touched Cassidy’s cheek. “I love it too.”
Cassidy’s gaze softened.
“I love it very much,” Xander whispered, then kissed him.
Cassidy let him have the moment. Let him sink deeper into the kiss, lick into his mouth, and shift closer until his cock was nestled in the cleft of his ass.
Cassidy kissed the way he always did when they were alone, with patience and control that somehow made everything he did that much hotter. Xander began to rock his hips, shallow at first, instinctive and lazy from the afterglow of last night.
Cassidy made a tortured sound and caught his hips more firmly. “Sweetheart…”
Xander made a frustrated noise. “No.”
“Yes.” Cassidy laughed under his breath.
“Why are you stopping me?”
“Because I have to go talk to God and Day before they leave.”
That cut through the haze, but only barely.