Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He traced Azariah’s sharp jaw with his thumb, angling his head and deepening the kiss. Those supple pillow-lips parted to allow their tongues to slide together. The familiar spicy taste burst in his mouth on first contact. God, he’d missed that taste, he wanted to drown in it. The fringe of hair on Azariah’s neck tickled Connelly’s fingers, so he combed through the short strands reveling in the silkiness. So light, like tiny feathers kissing all his nerve endings and causing a shiver to tumble down his spine.
The air in the room was heavy with longing and suddenly too warm. Wherever Azariah touched left a scorching trail of fire over Connelly’s flesh. His blood stirred, his cock rose to press against his zipper. He ignored it as best as he could even though the fervent surge pushed at him to go faster, to get inside his lover as quickly as he could.
There was no rush. They were together now and it seemed like they were in a bubble of suspended time. If the world outside were spinning, it could go on without them. What happened in this room tonight could take an eternity and still not last long enough. They kissed and kissed and kissed endlessly. This was all he needed. This was all there was—his lips against Azariah’s lips, his skin against Azariah’s skin—their hearts pounding as if they were one.
Every inhale brought Azariah’s breath inward to saturate his every cell. The exchange made him feel like they were merging. Finally, becoming one being. Becoming more than they could ever be apart. It made his heart want to burst with so much joy he couldn’t hold back the small moan that came from so deep it might have been his soul crying out.
“Stay with me,” he said.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Azariah’s arms circled his neck and brought their mouths together again. His slender body so strong and solid. So real. No more talking, nothing else needed to be said.
They were safe in his apartment, locked away from everything that had tried to come between them. Here, nothing could touch them. If he could, he’d make sure they never had to leave this room.
When Azariah had walked away from him outside of the club that day, he’d felt like his whole world was falling apart. Now he knew it wasn’t. It was falling into order. Without that moment he might never have understood how much he needed Azariah. He might have continued to think that Azariah was the one who needed him. What a fool.
He knew now he wouldn’t be able to live without the man in his arms. In a short span of time, Azariah had become the most important thing in his life. Their spirits had twisted and curled together so tightly there was no longer a Connelly without an Azariah.
It didn’t even scare him. He no longer cared that they’d only known each other for two weeks. When love hit you like a freight train and destiny held you by the balls it was stupid to resist. Stupid to worry about it vanishing or to think any of it was in his control. All you could do was trust.
As he hugged Azariah tighter, he poured out all of his trust. It came flowing out every pore, every cell and every breath. He had to believe Azariah would do the same eventually, that he could win back the right to be trusted with his lover’s heart.
This time he wouldn’t do anything to screw it up.
Chapter Forty-Two
What was between them was too big. Z understood that now. He wasn’t ready to say it aloud yet, but he knew what he felt for Connelly was more than he’d ever felt for anyone. In the middle of all the chaos, Connelly’s constant presence was the one thing Z had held on to, even when he’d thought he’d let go.
There was no letting go of this. Not without dying.
He finally understood why Ansel and Fitch couldn’t seem to look at each other without their eyes shining like a million dazzling stars. Love was intense like that. It made you feel untouchable—more fierce than a pair of red-bottom heels ever could.
“I need to touch you.” He tugged at Connelly’s mangled shirt. His palms actually tingled with the desire. If he didn’t get his hands on Connelly’s body soon they might fall off in protest.
Connelly calmly pulled the T-shirt over his head and then worked on ridding Z’s as well. “Stunning,” Connelly said, his voice all husky and drugged from their nonstop kissing. He had a flush to his cheeks and hunger in his eyes, all clear signs of arousal. But behind those surface signs there was something that called to all of Z’s newly awakened romantic wishes. His tender heart fluttered with the possibilities.