Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“No?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. It would be me.”
“You?”
“Yessir. Think about it,” I said, getting up and walking to the kitchen sink to dump the watered-down ice tea in my glass. “If I hadn’t shown up and gotten Griff out, then he would have been there in lockup long enough for Wilson to think, shit, I didn’t check the Duchesne kid’s pockets for the damn key. Also, he wouldn’t have Newcastle PD crawling up his ass.”
“So you’re saying you’re the one with the bull’s-eye on his back.”
“If anyone does, then yeah,” I said with a smile. “It’s not your son.”
He shook his head.
“C’mon, I’m ready to play video games, and any second now—”
“Are you two coming or not?” Darwin yelled for us.
I waggled my eyebrows at him and headed for the living room. They had never seen me play Call of Duty, and I was ready to school them.
I thought that subject was closed, but later, in our bathroom, as I was standing by the sink in a towel, drying my hair, Luke came in and leaned against the doorframe, staring at me. He’d gone first and was now changed into pajama bottoms.
“You don’t have to watch me,” I teased him. “I’m coming to bed.”
He cleared his throat, and I noted then that he seemed a bit nervous.
“What’s wrong?”
“I dunno, maybe the possibility of Wilson coming after you.”
I squinted at him.
“Think about it.”
But it was hard to think about anything when he was standing there in front of me with his muscular chest, broad shoulders, all his long, hard chiseled lines, including his sculpted abdomen, all under sleek burnished-gold skin.
“Hello?”
My eyes flicked to his.
“What’s with you?”
“You’re a beautiful man, Luke Duchesne, and I like looking at you.”
Instant blush on his cheeks that I loved.
“I’m having a hard time focusing on what you’re saying.”
Sheepish smile then as he levered off the frame, came into the bathroom, and kissed me, sweetly, gently.
That would not do.
He was healthy, our whole house was sickness-free, and we were alone. He was finally all mine. I took his face in my hands and tipped his head back so I had better access, and then slowly deepened the kisses, making each one languorous and hungry, tasting him, savoring him as my fingers traced over the curve of his jaw, up into his hair, then down to his throat, and I held him there, under my power, and mauled his mouth, each kiss more grinding and hungry than the last, my tongue taking absolute possession until he was trembling in my arms.
He pulled back and rasped, “My legs aren’t gonna hold me,” the words almost lost with how ragged his breathing was.
I picked him up, and the moment I did, his legs instinctively wrapped around my hips. I carried him to our bed, and once there, put him down, his head on his pillow, and looked my fill of him. I couldn’t help it. Hard to wrap my brain around the fact that he was mine.
“Your eyes are so dark right now,” he whispered.
“That’s because of you.” I dropped both my towels beside the bed, opened the nightstand drawer, and got the lube. “I have never wanted anyone more than you.”
“Why?” he asked breathlessly.
“Because I’ve never loved anyone before.”
A shiver ran through him as I got onto the bed and straddled his hips. I bent and retook his mouth, my chest pressed to his as I devoured him, taking my time because we had all night and every night and day, whenever we wanted, for the rest of our lives. I’d never felt so settled in my own skin, so grounded. I didn’t have to hurry because this was never going to end.
“Nash,” he husked, turning his head to take a breath.
Slipping my hand under the drawstring of his pajama bottoms, I took hold of his cock and stroked him, over and over, from balls to head, as I made love to his mouth.
When he was trying to pull me down, tugging on my shoulders, my biceps, arching up against me, I moved, lying down beside him, loving the feel of his body against mine, the smell of his skin, and all his noises. The whimpers and sighs, the way his breath was catching, my name spoken without end, like a prayer.
Rising over him, I rolled him to his back and slowly eased his pajama bottoms down, using my hands to rub and massage his legs as I removed them. When he was lying under me, staring up at me with blown pupils, I reached for the lube.
“What’re you gonna do?”
“Put lube all over this beautiful cock of yours and then ride—”
“No.”
“Honey, I really need to—”
“I need to see,” he croaked out, lifting his legs, putting them around my hips. “You’re so… I want you to have me.”