Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Once he’d sucked me dry, he slid his mouth off my cock and tucked me back in again and zipped me up. Then he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “What was that?” I exclaimed with a grin.
Dante winked at me and slapped my ass. “Dessert.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I know ya’all totally snuck off and had sex yesterday during Thanksgiving at Nana’s. And left me stuck chattin’ up Cousin Rachael. Who bah the way, is a total and complete cougah.” We were in our living room and Christopher’s hands were on his narrow hips, the big leather falconry gloves riding up to his elbows as he raised an eyebrow at me. “She tried to lure me into the pantry with her. Is that where ya’all were? Diddlin’ with the dry goods?” He and Dante were in the middle of one of their Peaches training sessions, and Christopher was so flustered by the dog that he forgot to hold his accent in check.
“No, of course not,” I said.
He dumped a gluten-free dog biscuit into his hand from the box on the table. “Peaches, sit,” he said, showing the dog the biscuit, and Peaches curled back his lips, displayed his underbite and let out a high-pitched growl. In response, Dante shot him with a squirt bottle, and Christopher exclaimed, “No, Peaches!”
“We were only gone a few minutes,” I told him, standing on the coffee table with my arms crossed over my chest, out of range in case Peaches finally went ballistic and tried to kill everyone.
“So just a blowjob then?” he asked, turning toward me again. I guess I looked guilty, because he rolled his eyes and said, “I knew it.” Peaches started to lunge at him when Christopher’s back was turned, so Dante squirted him again. The dog stopped his attack and shook himself.
“You two should give up on this,” I said. “Peaches is uncivilizable.”
“No way,” said Dante. “I’m finally getting to shoot that little shit.” He twirled the squirt bottle around his index finger and grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes.
Christopher rubbed his nose with the back of his gloved hand and said, “I think I am giving up for now. I can only take so many attempts on my life in one day. We’ll give it another go tomorrow.” He pulled the gloves off and tucked them under his arm.
“I need pie after that,” Dante said, handing the squirt bottle to Christopher. “Cover me.” He headed for the kitchen, where our refrigerator was crammed full of the leftovers that Nana had forced on us yesterday. The dog nipped at his heels and Christopher chased after them, yelling, “No, Peaches!” and squirting him the whole way.
Someone knocked on the door as I was jumping off the table. I crossed the room and swung the door open, and went full on deer-in-headlights.
“Charlie,” my father said by way of greeting, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just, you know, thought I should bring you your mail.” He thrust a few envelopes at me, and I took them hesitantly. I saw at a glance they were all just junk mail. “Mind if I come in?”
I stepped back and let my father into my apartment, and he went and sank down awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. I perched on a chair on the other side of the coffee table, and studied him warily.
It looked like my father had aged twenty years in the past few weeks. His complexion was pale, dark circles under his eyes. He wore an old, beat-up coat that my mother used to complain about with a stained t-shirt underneath, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. Bachelorhood was most definitely not agreeing with Walter Connolly.
“So…some things were said,” he began, looking at his big hands, which were clutched on his lap. “I was angry. And confused. I didn’t know how to deal with…well, you know.”
“The fact that I’m gay.”
“Yeah. That.” He paused and scratched his cheek, not meeting my gaze. Then he said, “I know I messed up, Charlie. You’re my kid. I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the house. That was wrong. So I wanted to tell you that, if you wanna come back home, the door’s open to you.”
“No thank you,” I said quietly.
He looked up at me. “It won’t be like before. Your mother left me, I’m not sure if you knew that. And I’ve had a lot of time to think since she’s been gone. I’m not angry anymore, Charlie.”
“This is my home now.”
My father looked around, as if he’d failed to notice the apartment before. “Oh. Well, this is a real nice place. Used to be Jamie’s, right? I remember it. Only, it’s fancier now.” He was looking at the big TV when he said that. “Jamie don’t live here anymore, does he?”