Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I held his face in both hands and ravaged his mouth, sucking the air from his lungs. His breath hitched as he released my dick to tackle the row of buttons on my plaid shirt. He splayed the fabric wide and tweaked my nipples till I growled.
“On your knees.”
Dex’s eyes turned molten as he hurried to obey. He didn’t complain about the unforgiving cement floor or the fact that his cock was still trapped behind his zipper. No. He gave his full attention to me, licking, sucking, and swallowing me like a man possessed. He bobbed his head, pausing to fondle my balls or press his thumb on my crease. The problem was that he was too good at this. Much too good.
I pushed Dex off me and pulled him to his feet. Our mouths crashed as he fumbled with his belt and zipper. I should have helped, but I was consumed with the taste of him and the hint of precum on his tongue. My focus shifted the second he rubbed his warm, thick erection alongside mine. I licked my hand and stroked us, and yes, it was nice and I probably could have come like that, but it wasn’t enough.
Dexter agreed. He broke the kiss and tugged at my beard. “Touch me. You know what I want. Please.”
I parted his cheeks and traced a finger along his crack. “Like this?”
“Mm. More.”
I smacked his ass and turned him to face the table. I was on my knees a moment later, my tongue in his hole. I stabbed at his puckered entrance, licking him while he jerked himself and chanted my name like a prayer. I replaced my tongue with a single digit, kissing the small of his back and each vertebrae as I stood.
Dex opened the condom and lube packets, handing them over his shoulder. He leaned forward, his weight braced on his elbows and mumbled something like, “Fuck me.”
I rolled the latex on and pressed two lube-slicked fingers at his entrance. Then three. “So this is how we go fishing in Michigan, ja?”
My accent slipped and if I wasn’t careful, I’d forget how to speak English, but I doubted Dex would care. He had one thing on his mind. Only one.
“Get that dick inside me. Now. I need you. I want—oh…ungh!”
I pushed past the first ring of muscle and went still, not wanting to hurt him. “Shh. I’ve got you. Slappna av.”
“What does that mean?”
“Relax.”
“It’s hard,” he grunted.
I chuckled, kissing his shoulder as I began to move. “I don’t think you want me to be soft.”
“Oh…fuck. Oh…yes. More.”
I obliged, clutching his hips and thrusting deep. The pace was steady—a rhythmic thump echoing off the ceilings along with the clank of our belt buckles. We’d left our jeans and shoes on, which limited our movement yet seemed sexier than it should have. A half-dressed Dexter, spreading himself open for me, and begging me to never stop? Yeah…this was good.
Too good.
I lost my tempo as my orgasm crashed into me like a freight train traveling at high speed and sent me flying. I roared through my release and felt Dexter tense and come beneath me.
We gasped like fish out of water for a minute or so. Eventually, I disengaged and we cleaned up with wet paper towels from the sink.
“I have a bathroom here if you want…or we can go to the house,” I said awkwardly.
“This is fine. I’m…wrecked.” He laughed and shoved a hand through his hair. “Why is this so amazing? You don’t have to answer. In fact, don’t. I’m just feeding your ego.”
“I don’t mind.”
Dex grinned, fussing with the collar of his tee. “So…Michigan?”
I rolled my eyes and grumbled. I knew he wouldn’t hold me to it, but I also knew that if he wanted me to, I’d go.
CHAPTER 20
DEXTER
We chartered a private jet to the Upper Peninsula the following week. It was a schlep to get there from Vermont, involving two regional airports and a tiny jet that wobbled in the clouds. The Sandringham estate abutted Lake Michigan on one side and a state park on the other. It was a solid forty-five minutes from our Airbnb.
In a twist, my cabin had been leased through an agency I used for the summer by a semi-famous mystery writer. I’d bought the place years ago with my ex and won it in the divorce, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been there. Leasing it out had been the best option, which left me out of luck for this trip.
There weren’t a ton of choices on short notice, but the rental I’d settled on was on the lake and had its own dock. It looked nice enough in the online photos and if it wasn’t, we could always turn around and head back to Wood Hollow.
Viggo wouldn’t go for that. It had been a long day.