Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
The kid looks barely old enough to shave, and as he leans back and looks up at Anders, a blinding, gorgeous smile I’ve never seen on Anders’ face appears. He’s definitely never smiled at me like that.
That’s when I notice Anders’ hand on the guy’s hip. How long has that been there? Did Anders stop him to purposefully dance with us, or is he just humouring the guy?
I’ve heard Reed and Law mention Anders’ penchant for younger guys, but I figured they were joking.
Guess not.
I don’t quite understand what’s happening, but as Anders moves in closer, I feel a hand on my lower back. The young guy has his hands on my chest, so … Anders is touching me?
The three of us find a rhythm, moving as one. The music fades in my ears, and all I can hear is our mixed breaths. Anders’ hand moves over the contours of my back, and I risk a glance at him.
My heart skips a beat when my eyes land on Anders nuzzling the smaller guy’s neck.
Both of them still have hands on me, but the chemistry between the two of them is explosive. And hot.
The other guy has his head thrown back, his eyes closed, just enjoying the sensation of Anders buried in the crook of his shoulder.
I’ve never had a threesome, and while the fantasy of it is something I’ve thought about, the reality is … I kinda feel like the odd one out right now, and all we’re doing is dancing. Even if my granite-hard cock is begging for this to continue, I don’t know what the fuck is going on.
I can’t take my gaze off Anders, wishing it was me he was ravishing, but a hand cups my cheek and my attention is brought to the other guy.
He pulls my head close and brings his lips to my ear. “Must be my lucky night.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Mmm … Must be.”
Smooth. Real smooth.
I swear I normally have more game than this, but whether it’s the Anders thing or the three of us thing, I can’t seem to pull out my usual charm right now.
He turns towards Anders, but I’m still close enough to hear him beg. “Please take me home with you guys.”
Anders and I lock eyes on each other, and something happens to the hand on my back. It becomes stiff, Anders’ shoulders become rigid, and his face pales.
Plastering on what I know to be a fake smile—because he’s thrown so many of them my way the past six months—Anders leans in to kiss the guy’s cheek. “As fun as that would be, I’ve got to go. Sorry. You two have fun though.” He leaves with an awkward wink, and his lips are back to being tight but slightly turned up as if he’s trying to smile but can’t quite do it.
It happens so fast. One minute Anders is with us, and the next he’s gone.
“Your wingman doesn’t know how to wingman properly. He gets me all worked up for a threesome and then bails.”
I rise on my toes to try to find Anders over the crowd. My eyes catch on him right before he walks out the exit.
When I go to follow him, I realise the young guy is still in front of me. “Uh, yeah, sorry about him. I don’t know what that was.”
“I’m still up for a twosome if you are?” Bright eyes blink up at me. He’s cute, I’ll give him that, but he’s not really my type. Not that I’m normally picky, but I’m just not feeling it. The guy I want walked out the door.
“Thanks, but I should go check on my friend. Have a fun night.”
I chase after Anders before the guy can stop me. When I reach outside, I’m pelted by unexpected rain. Standing under the awning of the bar and scanning the street, I realise I’m too late. Anders is gone.
3
Anderson
Law and Reed’s housewarming party.
Ugh. Kill me now.
The ball of stress tightening my gut has me hesitating as I pull up to their place.
They’re gonna ask. All of them are gonna ask about the apartment. Law, Reed, Mum, Dad …
They all know I can’t afford to stay where I am, and Law knows when the lease is up. Which means all of them know that it’s soon, and they’re all gonna want to know what my plan is.
When I don’t have an answer, they’ll offer me solutions—none of which I wanna hear.
I check my reflection in the rear-view mirror. The bags under my eyes, my untrimmed beard, and my unruly hair are gonna bring on even more questions.
Yeah, I’m a bit of a mess, but I could be worse. This isn’t my usual anxiety-ridden exhaustion but stress from trying to figure out where I’m gonna live. I’m already in debt, and re-signing the lease for another six months will put me further in the hole.