Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Then Jacob broke away from the kiss, body stiffening, and Linc was done for, the way pleasure transformed Jacob’s face, and the sounds he made that just egged Linc on, making him stroke faster and harder until he was coming too.
And just as good as the climax was the laughter that seemed to descend on both of them afterward, a different sort of release.
“Fuck, that was something.” Linc couldn’t stop chuckling.
“I know. Damn. Fast too. It’s still on the first episode.” Jacob gestured at the TV.
“So it is.” Linc scooted back so Jacob could sit up too. Felt like eons had transpired while they’d been kissing, but apparently it was less than thirty minutes, dogs still snoozing, bored on the other couch.
“Any chance of you showing me your remodeling work in the other shower? And maybe letting me stay for a second episode before I hit the road?” Still laughing, Jacob snuggled into his shoulder, head falling against Linc’s neck as perfect as if the spot had been made just for him.
“You can stay,” Linc said thickly, trying to ignore the part of him that wanted it to be far more than just another hour. So much for more sex working to decrease his need for Jacob. All that last round had done was make him need more than either of them could give. Stay. Stay right here. But of course, Jacob wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
Chapter Eleven
“It’s Monday. Time to run those weekend donuts off,” Sims barked at them as they assembled in the cold, gray, drizzly morning. Even with the dreary weather, Jacob had to hide a smile. He hadn’t had any sweet treats all weekend, unless one counted the Friday night cake at Linc’s place. And he definitely hadn’t had any Sunday donuts, instead getting a punishing workout in with Linc, who’d missed his calling as a drill sergeant. He’d give even the most hard-nosed MMA trainers a run for their money. And not that that wasn’t fun—he’d always liked being pushed physically, liked being exhausted in body and mind both, and working out with someone who was more than his equal was always a nice treat. Something he could easily get used to.
Still, one would think that the prospect of getting his dick sucked would make Linc go easy on Jacob, but he’d put them both through their paces until Jacob was convinced he’d forgotten all about the promise of sex afterward. However, then he’d redeemed himself in a spectacular fashion, making out in the big shower off his home gym, then stumbling down the hall to his bed where he’d proceeded to make Jacob forget his own name until it was time for lunch. So, yeah, he didn’t really need the Monday PT or the lecture about staying in shape for their jobs, but he was in way too good of a mood to let either the rain or the work bring him down.
As usual, he ran next to Kelley in the lead while Linc hung back with Garrick and Ray, nowhere near as hard on his buddies as he was on Jacob.
“My weekend was so slow. Boring,” she complained partway through the long run, not breaking stride. “Tell me yours was better.”
The best. But of course he couldn’t share that, couldn’t even smirk. “Nah. Yard work for my mom. Working out. Streamed a new survival show that’s not too bad. But otherwise, it was pretty damn boring.”
“What do you say we head to Portland this coming weekend? We’re not likely to be able to leave the area once the fire season starts in earnest. We should take advantage of the chance to get away, find trouble.”
“Uh.” He focused on running, trying to find a good way to hedge. As far as Kelley knew, he was a single gay guy who should be chomping to get to the Portland club scene. He couldn’t exactly confess that he was hoping to convince Linc to make their weekend workout a regular thing. And not that Linc would probably care, but he had no desire to pursue another hookup, risk upsetting this tenuous connection they’d only now established. “It’s a long drive.”
“Three hours,” Kelley scoffed, undeterred. “And if we stay over, it’s not like trying to cram it into a single-day turnaround. I’ve got friends we can crash with. You’d like one of them—cute as heck shy guy a little younger than you who’d probably like nothing better than to worship your muscles.”
“I don’t need a setup.” He kicked up the pace, hoping to wind her into dropping this, but she kept up easily.
“It’s not me playing matchmaker. Honest. More like incentive to split the driving with me.”
As they turned the corner back to the base, he searched his brain for a non-Linc-centric way out of this because ordinarily he’d be in favor of getting to spend a weekend in the city with cute, uncomplicated guys who had nothing in common with a certain stubborn, tattooed hard-ass.