Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I nodded, though he knew very well what kind of orders I’d been talking about. The get naked kind. I thought back to the very inexperienced blow job I’d given him this morning. Maybe I’d get a chance to improve on my earlier score.
“Nathan, focus,” Vincent growled, and I realized I’d dropped my eyes to where our hips were grinding together.
“Stop humping my dick and I will,” I bit back. “Or shut the hell up and just kiss me already.”
He did neither of those things. Just continued to hold me pinned to the bed as he studied me.
“You’re not the only one I don’t want reading too much into what all this means,” he finally admitted. His words were enough to help me focus on what he was saying instead of what his body was doing to mine.
His lips finally brushed over mine and he settled more of his weight down on me. “I knew the second the words left my lips this morning that I wouldn’t be able to do it, Nate.”
“Do what?” I whispered.
“Let you go.”
Heat lanced through my body and my chest felt insanely tight.
“Vincent-”
He kissed me to shut me up again and then he was pressing his forehead against mine. “I can’t want this, Nathan. Do you understand me? Not don’t…can’t.”
I nodded and squeezed my eyes closed because I did understand. “You won’t lose me, Vincent. I promise,” I whispered desperately.
He kissed me again. “Baby, you know it isn’t about making me that promise.”
I wanted to cry because I knew he was right. And I wanted to curse whoever was hunting him that had taken his ability to choose me away. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t fair, but he’d had his share of not fair. His career stolen, his lover lost to him forever, his brother brutally murdered…I didn’t hold that same station in his life, but maybe I could have.
“Nate, open your eyes.”
I did as he said, and furiously blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. But I knew he could tell what I was doing because he shook his head slightly and let out a soft sigh. Fortunately, he didn’t comment on it. Instead he said, “We’ll go to the rally on Saturday and try to draw the fucker out. But when you’re safe, Nathan…when this is all over, I need you to promise me you’ll walk away. I need you to do that for me.”
I wanted to rant at him that it wasn’t fair for him to ask that of me. But the fact that he’d had to make the request in the first place told me where he was at. And as good as it felt to know he was in this thing as deeply as me, I still cursed the unseen circumstances that were bent on keeping us from figuring this thing out between us.
“Promise,” I said hoarsely.
His lips found mine and he kissed me reverently. He spent an endless amount of time worshiping my body with his mouth and hands as he plucked my clothes from me piece by piece. I was boneless when he stood up and pulled his own clothes off. By the time he slid into me, I was desperate to come, but Vincent tortured me with slow, deep thrusts meant to keep me on the edge. Only when I was begging him to send me over the edge did he shift his hips so he could hit my gland on every stroke. As the orgasm crashed over me, he ordered me to keep my eyes on him and I was helpless to do anything else. But instead of following me over, he began his sensuous torture all over again, and when I came for the second time, he was right there with me.
I couldn’t say how long we lay there trying to catch our breath, but when we were finally forced to move, it was only long enough to take a quick shower where we washed each other, and then he was leading me back to his bed.
As I curled into his side, my eyes fell on the bookshelf opposite the bed.
“Will you tell me about him?” I asked as I ran my hand up and down Vincent’s chest.
Vincent didn’t need to ask who I was talking about. “What do you want to know?” he asked after a few moments.
“The books – they were his?”
I motioned towards the bookshelf with my chin.
“Yes. He started collecting them when we were kids. He had a learning disability that made it hard for him to read, so his teachers suggested his parents find books that really captured his interest. As hard as it was for him, he was always reading. When I would spend the night at his house, we’d lie in his bed and I’d spend hours reading to him.”