Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Turn over,” I commanded, sitting on my heels as I greased up and crawled between his thighs.
Christ, he was beautiful. Lean and compact, smudged glasses, freckles, and full parted lips. His pretty eyes were on me, watching as I lined my cock at his pucker and pushed. A flash of pain marred his features. His jaw tightened, but he grabbed my ass before I could pull away.
“I’m okay. Keep going,” Malcolm whispered.
I inched forward, my arms trembling on either side of his head until I finally bottomed out. I wiped sweat from his brow and kissed his forehead, unthinking.
“Can I move? No hurry. I mean…I’m dying here, but I won’t do anything unless you’re ready.”
He smiled at that. “I’m ready.”
Thank fuck. I set a slow pace that nearly killed me, sliding out and surging deeper at each pass. Malcolm arched and wound his legs around my hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. Our steady rhythm morphed into a wicked slap of skin on skin. The room echoed with the squeak of bedsprings, grunted gasps, and nasty sweet nothings.
Yeah, that was me. I was a talker. “God, I love this hole. So tight, so fuckin’ hot. Tell me it’s mine.”
“It’s yours, it’s yours,” he cried out, tugging his dick as I fucked him hard and dirty.
“Eyes open. I want to see you come for me. Are you coming?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Jizz jetted across his lower abs, but I didn’t stop. I bucked and pistoned, grasping his shoulders for purchase as pleasure tingled along my spine. His hole quivering around my cock was too much, though. White lights blinked and pleasure tickled my spine and…I was a goner.
I roared like a wild beast, pumping everything I had into him.
It took a lifetime to catch my breath and float to Earth. My gaze swept over his chest, his semi, and the space where we were still joined.
My skin was a few shades darker than his, my thighs were more muscular, my chest was hairier. I had tattoos, and he was a blank canvas…miles of smooth surface dotted with adorable freckles. We looked good together, I mused…complementary opposites.
“Are you okay?” I asked, slowly pulling out.
“Mmm. Yes.”
“Shit, we made a mess. Be right back.” I fetched a towel and a couple of water bottles.
We cleaned up and settled next to each other, my knee nudged between his.
“We’re good at this,” Malcolm commented in his most matter-of-fact voice.
“We are. This is where I say we should have been doing this all along.”
“Maybe so.”
“I kind of like that we didn’t. It felt…perfect.” I winced, scrubbing my hand over my face. “Meh…don’t listen to me. I say stupid shit when I’m wrung out in a sex haze.”
He grinned. “Understood. But if it’s any consolation…I agree. This was perfect.”
It was.
And I wondered why—why him, why this, why now? No, this wasn’t a hearts-and-flowers sentimental bullshit moment. I didn’t do those. But I felt something for Malcolm that teetered between friendship and an unknown quantity I wasn’t prepared to examine. It had been there for a while, and lying here with him naked in a dimly lit room that smelled like sex made it difficult to shy away from the truth.
I really liked Malcolm. I liked his smile, his honesty, his odd mix of gullibility and genius, and I liked the way he looked at me…as if I were someone special.
Me.
Not the me who played hockey. Just me. I could get used to that look.
CHAPTER 17
MALCOLM
One might learn a lot about a person over the course of a two-and-a-half-hour drive. What type of music they preferred; how they handled traffic on the long, lonely stretches of a two-lane interstate; and if they obeyed the laws of the road or were speed demons.
If you’re curious, Jett liked hip-hop, jazz, and classic rock. He was cool under pressure and unperturbed by fellow drivers, and he seemed to appreciate the endless ribbon of evergreens along our route. He was also a pleasant conversationalist. We discussed a medley of topics ranging from world politics to places on our bucket lists, and our thoughts on the latest in intergalactic spinoffs.
I suspected the steady repartee was in part a deliberate ploy to distract me from checking the speedometer. Let it be known that Jett Erickson had a lead foot.
“You’re exceeding the speed limit,” I noted, leaning across the console of his Tahoe. “Again.”
Jett tossed a careless sideways grin my way. “Relax. We’ve got the road to ourselves, Maloney.”
“I’ll have you know, there are deer in these woods, and they’ve been known to dart in front of unsuspecting motorists. It’s quite unsafe.” I was aware that I sounded like a Victorian schoolmaster. I curled my pinky around his as if to counter my fuddy-duddy tone.
“True. They’re majestic and all that, but they can be a fucking menace. One ran into Ty’s truck a couple of years ago. He swerved to avoid hitting it and slammed into a tree instead. Totaled his truck.”