Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Trent pressed his thumb against Wood’s chin to part his mouth wider and poured… nothing. He scrambled off the floor, grimacing, with his hands balled into fists. “Why are you doing this! Can’t you see I’m trying? I’m fuckin’ doing the work and you’re not, Wood!” Trent picked up a cup holder full of Wood’s colored pencils and hurled them across the room. The sound wasn’t loud enough, so he grabbed the desk lamp and flung it as hard as he could into the hallway, satisfied when it shattered into pieces. “Wake up!”
Trent dropped to his knees, feeling as defeated as ever. “Please, wake up. Please, Hersh. I’m fuckin alone here too, man.” Trent used the back of his sleeve to wipe at the sweat running down his temple. His voice was hoarse and dry, and he could feel his body wanting to shut down and sleep. “I’m so sorry, but I’m scared. I’m gonna have to call some help. I’ve tried every damn thing I can think of, and I got nothing left, Wood. I don’t know anything else to do.”
Trent stared at the lifeless expression in Wood’s eyes before his gaze dropped to his lips. Slowly, Trent eased into Wood’s side and lowered his face until they were only a hair width apart. He stopped, wishing that miraculously Wood would soldier through and take that last inch as if he couldn’t wait another second for their mouths to touch, but he didn’t budge. Trent kept his eyes lowered until they connected. Wood’s lips were dry and cracked, but they still felt wonderful. Trent had never kissed another man’s lips, never really wanted to, until he met Wood. Never had he wanted a bond with someone so fiercely. Trent breathed into Wood’s mouth as if he was feeding life back into him and pressed his lips deeper. When he pulled away, Trent gasped as his hand flew to his lips that still vibrated with sensation. God. His body felt as if it’d been shot with adrenaline and his soul had come alive.
Damnit. It was supposed to help him, not me. Trent shook his head. That was stupid. This isn’t a fuckin’ fairy tale. When Trent glanced up, his body froze. And his heart began to beat hard enough to make his chest hurt. There was no mistaking now. Wood was staring dead at him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wood
Wood’s body was jostled roughly as Trent fell down on his, his strong hands clutching his face. “Wood, Wood. Are you looking at me? Wood.”
Wood closed his eyes and slowly opened them, wanting to be sure the sight before him was real. That he was staring into Trent’s warm, rum-colored eyes, and there was no judgment there. No shame, or pity. Just weariness and concern. Wood felt the pain of what’d happened slam back into him hard enough to make his ribs hurt when he cried out.
Trent scrambled to his knees and yanked Wood into his hard chest, clutching him in a fierce hug. “That’s it, Wood, come back. Let that pain in so you know you’re alive.”
Wood dreadfully realized he was here in real time and completely exposed. While the guilt was still heavy on his heart and he had no clue if it would ever fully subside, he realized he wasn’t as alone as he thought. Wood felt his stomach contract violently, and he moaned at the discomfort, causing Trent to hug him tighter.
“You’re all right,” Trent whispered, running his hand up and down his bare skin.
Wood’s entire body ached, bruised clear to his soul. Now all he could do was close his eyes and bury his face in the crook of Trent’s neck since he had no place else to hide. He breathed deep, and there was that scent of fresh rain and gardens.
“Don’t you ever terrify me like that again,” Trent said, carefully lowering him to the pillow, and Wood noticed he was on the floor surrounded by soft blankets and multiple pillows.
I’m sorry. Wood was so ashamed he could barely meet Trent’s weary eyes, but he did. He’d been a quitter and a wimp, letting life beat him to a pulp without so much as throwing a counterpunch. Now all Wood could hope for was that he had time to repair the damage he’d done with the man still palming his cheek. He exhaled and turned into the comforting touch.
“I want you to drink some of this water now, all right? You’ve been out of it for almost twenty-four hours.” Trent reached beside him, and Wood noticed him cringe as if he was hurt before he placed a small plastic cup to his lips. Trent held his neck to steady him and watched as Wood accepted the first couple of sips. A look of pure elation eclipsed the weariness in Trent’s expression, and it made Wood feel even worse. He’d put Trent through so much. Damn, how was he ever going to repay this kind of debt?