Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
His free hand undoes his jeans and drops them to the floor. No underwear helps.
“I love a man who can multitask.” I throw my head back on the glass. Anders does this thing with his wrist on the upstroke, making my mind fuzzy and my balls heavy.
I want to cry when he takes his hand away, but then he raises it to my mouth. “Spit,” he says.
Anders groans as I wet his hand then my own with saliva. He closes his eyes and shudders, his brow creasing in concentration.
His hand returns to my dick and I breathe deep through it, trying to hold onto any form of composure, but I’m literally about twenty seconds away from exploding all over the both of us.
Distraction. I need a distraction.
I wrap my fist around him and stroke. He leans into me, pinning me to the wall. The cold of the glass on my ass makes the heat between us burn hotter. He boxes me in, his left arm going above my head as his right keeps torturing me in the best way possible. His hips thrust forward, his dick fucking into my hand.
This isn’t the distraction I was looking for. If anything, this is worse.
My head falls forward onto his tattooed shoulder, and I can’t hold back from kissing the ink there.
He moans, deep and guttural, and his hips pick up their pace. “I’m going to …”
I nod against his shoulder. “Do it. It’ll take me with you.”
With a shudder and two more large thrusts, warmth fills my hand. He kisses a path from the bottom of my ear and down my neck while he continues to convulse.
“Fuck.” I come harder than I have since I can’t remember when, and I have to bite down on his shoulder to stop from yelling out.
I guess Anders likes it a bit rough, because when my teeth sink into his skin, more spurts hit my hand.
We breathe heavy, not moving until we can compose ourselves.
“Shower?” I ask, but it comes out as a whisper.
“I don’t know if my legs work.”
I laugh. “They’re holding you up pretty good.”
“I think that’s you.”
In our haste, we only managed to get our pants to our ankles, so we step out of them, and I drag him towards my bathroom.
Anders stands awkwardly as I turn the faucet on and wait for the water to heat up. His body is insane. Long and muscular without being bulky. Tight abs, firm ass … damn, I just hooked up with that.
Once we’re under the spray, Anders furrows his brow as if deep in thought.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Not really what a guy likes to hear when he’s washing your jizz off his stomach.”
Anders laughs. “It’s not bad. Okay, it’s kinda bad. I …” He turns his back to me and dips his head under the water. When he wipes his face, he continues to avoid eye contact as he says, “I … I can’t stay for round two. I need to go home.”
“Oh, okay. Not to a wife or anything, right?”
His behaviour is sketchy, but he laughs it off. “No wife. Promise.”
I was the one to say this would only be a hook-up, but I’d hoped for at least a few more hours with the guy.
Leaning forward, he lowers his head, and his mouth claims mine in a soft, appreciative kiss—the complete opposite to ten minutes ago. “Thanks for the, uh …”
“Orgasm?”
He runs his hand over the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah.”
I don’t realise my hand has gone to his forearm to stop him from getting out of the shower until it’s too late. “Look, I’m new here, I have only one friend—”
“My client?” he asks.
“Okay, so I have a whopping two friends here. Apart from a guy I went to high school with, I have no one. I know we said this would just be a hook-up, and I don’t want more, but … could we, like, hang out or whatever?”
Anders runs his hand over his beard. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, but the fact you were more confident asking me to fool around than you were at asking to hang out, I feel like I can’t say no.”
“That’s how I get all my friends. I guilt them into it.”
He smiles. “Okay, friend. I’ll leave my number for you on your kitchen bench.”
“I probably should’ve led with the friend thing and kept my pants on, but what can I say, you’re hot. Hot guys don’t make me think clearly.”
“I’m hot, huh?”
“Extremely, but I think you already know that. I’ll walk you out.”
We towel off and dress quickly.
I don’t bother putting on my shirt to walk him to the door, but Deb has impeccable timing. Or maybe she was out there all night, waiting to see how my date went. Considering Anders and I went straight to the sex part of the evening, she’s probably been waiting for me to come home, not—”