The Creek (Briar County #3) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Briar County Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
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Clint frowned. It didn’t seem that way to him. “I don’t have as much going on in my life. Not as much to talk about. You’re more interesting than me.”

August gave a self-deprecating laugh. “That’s the first time I’ve been called that. I always see myself as boring.”

“You’re not boring.”

“Stop doing that. The conversation is on me again.”

He was right, but it wasn’t something Clint did on purpose. “I don’t know. I like hearing about your life. You left here and went to college and lived a whole other life. I’m happy here. Always have been and always will be, but I haven’t done much of anything.”

“Are you kidding? Clint, you run a successful business. People from all around the country buy your art. That’s pretty amazing.”

It was silly, but he suddenly held his head a little higher. He liked the idea of impressing August. “Yep, I’m pretty amazing. You can tell me that every day if you want. I won’t stop you.”

They chuckled together. August took a bite of his doughnut and licked chocolate off his thumb. It was way too sexy and made Clint’s dick twitch. Goddamned Colby for bringing up the possibility of him and August this morning.

Clint said, “I used to spend a few weeks every summer hiking popular trails around the country. I’ve done part of the Appalachian Trail.”

August cocked a brow. “No shit?”

“No shit. It’s pretty cool. I like being outside, one with nature and all that. I also know how to fly small planes.”

August’s eyes went wide, and damned if Clint didn’t want to keep finding ways to impress him.

“What the fuck? Really?”

“Yeah. It’s just been me, so I’ve had a lot of time to learn different things.” Clint rubbed a hand over his chest, suddenly feeling an unexpected ache there.

“I don’t understand it,” August said softly. Clint glanced his way to see August watching him intently.

“Don’t understand what?”

“How someone didn’t snatch you up. I thought the sun rose and set on you when we were kids. You were my first real crush. I was brokenhearted when we left. I never told you, but God, I cried so much. I didn’t think I would ever get over losing Clinton Jones.”

He said the words playfully, just being honest about how he’d felt, not realizing it twisted Clint up inside. Made that ache in his chest grow in a way he didn’t quite understand. Loneliness, yeah, but regret too? Want? Hell, he didn’t know.

“Anyway, so now I’m back at forty-two, only to discover you’re just as good a man as you were back then. You’re funny and compassionate. Not sure there’s anything you wouldn’t do to help someone else.” August shrugged. “You’re a catch.”

It was difficult to hear August over the blood rushing through his ears, the loud thud-thud of his heart as it punched his chest, the vibration of it echoing through him. So he just watched August. Saw him lick his lips again and wanted to know if they tasted the way they had when they were fourteen. His dick was engaged but his brain wasn’t as he slowly stood.

“Sorry. Did I make things uncomfortable?” August asked.

Things were in Clint’s pants, but he didn’t think that was what August meant. Clint set his doughnut down, then took August’s out of his hand and set it on the counter too.

“What…?” August started, letting the question hang in the air as Clint turned August’s stool and stood between his legs.

With one hand, he cupped August’s cheek, smiled at the soft gasp he sucked in. Coarse stubble scratched his palm, and he used his thumb to trace August’s bottom lip. His eyes changed then, like somehow Clint had set gray fire to them.

“Tell me to stop,” Clint said, giving him warning.

“No.”

That one word was all the encouragement he needed. Clint slammed his mouth down on August’s. He tasted like his oldest friend, summer memories, and chocolate.

Clint fed August his tongue, nipped at him and swallowed down the moans August let loose in his mouth. He growled when strong hands grabbed his hips, shoved under his shirt so they were skin to skin, August’s fingers showing Clint how much he wanted this with bruising strength.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m kissing you right now.” Clint journeyed down his neck, sucked at this throat.

“Fuck, me neither. Don’t stop.” August’s hands made their own trip, sliding down to Clint’s ass, cupping him there before he used his right one to press against Clint’s bulge.

He was a frenzy of need then, taking August’s mouth again in a hard kiss. They laughed against each other when August almost tumbled off the barstool. Clint pulled him to his feet, their tongues wrestling and tasting.

August moved away slightly, and Clint instantly missed the feel of August’s hands on him, until he realized August was shakily opening each button on his shirt. They enjoyed each other’s mouths as August shoved Clint’s shirt off his shoulders, and then Clint pulled back just enough to tug August’s tee over his head.


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