Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I’m the middle child. My older brother lives in Kansas, my younger one is in Utah. Dad stayed in Oakland, and my mom remarried and moved to Idaho. I definitely wouldn’t call us close. It’s too bad. I think the divorce kind of ruined us. All the happy times got washed away, and all anyone remembers now are the sucky times where they fought like cats and dogs with no fucking filter. Sometimes I think…”
“What?” Cooper prodded, a package of chicken in hand.
“I think I jumped into marriage to prove I could do it better than they did,” I admitted, hopping off my stool to help organize dinner. “Alli’s an amazing woman. She’s beautiful, funny, kind, and smart. We were friends first, and everyone said marrying a friend would be a recipe for success. Not so much.”
I drizzled lemon on the chicken while Cooper chopped veggies.
“How long were you married?”
“Three years. It was great at first, and then…it fell apart.” I added salt and pepper. “Depression, frustration, lack of communication. Time passes, and next thing you know you haven’t had sex in a month or two and you don’t even really care. And no one’s smiling anymore or having fun. You’re proud of yourselves for minor wins, like not screaming at each other and taking the low road. It sucked.”
“Yet you’re still friends.”
“Yeah, we are. I wish things had ended differently, but I’ve stopped blaming myself for it. You can have all the right stuff and still be missing that extra something you need to make it in the long run. I hope she finds it.”
Cooper left his knife on the cutting board and draped an arm across my shoulder. “You’re a good man, Silas.”
He kissed my cheek and sidled by me, asking about quinoa or some shit while I blinked stardust from my eyes, wondering why I felt ten feet tall around him.
A good man. Me?
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I wanted to be…for him.
CHAPTER 12
COOPER
Cooking with a new lover was an intimate endeavor involving a certain amount of maneuvering and a measure of patience. There was no benefit of long-practiced choreography. No stock conversational tidbits about the weather, work, or the state of the nation. Just two people doing mundane tasks we’d done countless times in other lives. But this was uncharted territory.
For both of us.
And it felt suspiciously…cozy.
We ate a simple dinner of lemon chicken and quinoa with veggies in front of the TV with our feet propped on the coffee table, and talked about hockey and football—players’ stats, trades, and coaching issues. Silas shared his predictions and opinions about next season’s NFL draft prospects, marveled over signing bonuses, and the pressure young players were under to perform.
“Not easy for the old guys either,” he lamented.
“You’re not old.”
“I’ll be thirty-seven soon. That makes me a junior crypt keeper.”
I chuckled and scooted closer to him on the sofa, gliding my hand along his upper thigh and resting it on his cock. Like I’d wanted to do an hour ago.
“Thirty-seven is a spring chicken. When’s your birthday?”
“Your hand is on my dick, and you’re asking about my fucking birthday? My brain can’t compute. There’s a glitch in my software. I’m short-circuiting, malfunctioning.”
I stroked his hardening shaft. “Answer the question, Anderson.”
“May…something.”
I fondled his balls and massaged his perineum. “May what?”
“Mmm…the, um…twenty-second,” he rasped, lifting his ass off the cushions to wriggle his joggers and boxer briefs off. “I think.”
I hummed in approval, nibbling his earlobe and kissing his neck. “If you’re here, I’ll bake you a cake.”
“Uh…cake?”
“What kind do you like?” I bit his jaw, licked his neck, and stroked him.
“I-I don’t know. I…oh, fuck, that’s good.” Silas arched into my touch, spreading his thighs wide to give me access. “More.”
“Lick my palm.” I hummed my approval at his instant obedience. “Good boy.”
“Why does that turn me on?” he whimpered, closing his eyes.
It was a statement, not a question.
Silas was a wildly responsive lover. He didn’t hold anything back. If he wanted more, he said so. And he was always game to try something new. Even if that something meant giving up a little control.
“ ’Cause you want to be a good boy.”
“I’ll like it better if you suck my dick.” He wrapped his fingers around mine and pointed at my mouth. “Please.”
“Since you asked nicely…okay. But hands off. No touching yourself or me. Your job is to relax. Got it?”
Silas flashed a roguish lopsided grin as he cradled his head with both hands and sank deeper into the cushions. “No problem.”
I didn’t waste any time. I practically dove into his lap and swallowed him whole. It was a frenetic and fast-paced blowjob with questionable finesse. I wanted Silas wired and on edge. I wanted him desperate and pleading, begging for me to take him to the finish line.