Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 101335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Reaching forward, Colt gently knocked on the front door. Waiting a minute, he used more force, this time banging with his fist. After a few minutes more, he gripped the metal knocker, rapping urgently against the weather-stained door. When nothing came from the house, he pressed his ear to the door. He heard nothing inside.
Stepping back, he went to a window and peered inside. There he could see a light on, somewhere toward the rear of the bungalow. Colt walked the length of the wraparound porch, following it to the back. The porch was new; apparently Jace had been busy.
He looked out over the water. The ocean looked calm and quiet. The clouds covered the moon, casting a silver glow, but not providing much in the way of light. Scanning the beach, he found the embers of a dying fire and made out the shape of a chair close by. Colt took the back porch steps down to the sand. The farther he walked from the light of the house, the more his eyes adjusted to the dark. He could make out the form of a man lying on an outstretched lounger, close to the surf. Colt’s heart lurched, realizing Jace slept there alone. For all his claims of not being primal, Colt would have been hard-pressed in keeping his calm and not attacking if there had been someone with his Jace right now.
Colt slowed his pace as he walked tentatively to the chair. He took in the cooler on one side and the trash on the other. The smell of alcohol hit him hard, and for the first time in his adult life, he wasn’t drawn to taking a drink. Instead, he reached the chair, looked closer into the trash, lowering a finger inside to quietly lift a couple of bottles to count what Jace might have consumed. Colt counted twelve bottles. That wasn’t too much for one person. Hell he could drink a thirty pack in one sitting, but he looked up at the house. Still no movement from inside.
Bending to his knee, he squatted down and studied Jace’s face. He slept quietly, a long towel draped over his body. It wasn’t quite long enough, causing Jace to curl his legs up to get his entire body covered. Jace’s long hair fell forward with wisps covering his face. Jace looked so beautiful, so peaceful.
Colt had lazed on this very beach ten years ago, watching this gorgeous man sleep just like he did now. He remembered the night so clearly. He had decided right there that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jace. Now, while lifting his finger to move a piece of hair from Jace’s face, Colt again experienced the rush of those deep feelings of everlasting love. Jace’s eyes fluttered open.
“I should have drunk more. Shit. Leave me alone. Not tonight… not…” Jace turned over on the chair and got comfortable again, tucking his body back under the towel. Colt chuckled, but stayed there. Jace was still sleeping and perhaps a little drunk.
“It feels so natural to touch you. I missed this.” Lifting a hand, he stroked Jace’s hair on the back of his head. Jace slowly turned toward Colt, a groan coming from his throat. His eyes were little more than slits. “Hi, handsome, are you alone here?” Colt asked with a small smile.
“What?” Jace opened his eyes a little wider, but still really nothing more than slits, and Colt could see he began to finally wake up.
“Are you alone here? Is there anyone here with you?”
“Yes, I mean, no… I mean, yes.” Jace turned away from him, rolling onto his back, stretching out his long body. After a brief moment, Jace’s eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes briefly brushing his cheeks before the smile on his lips relaxed again. Alcohol had a way of putting you back to sleep, allowing you the privilege of not dealing with whatever woke you. Colt knew the effects well.
“Well, which one is it?”
Jace’s head darted back in his direction, his eyes fully opened now. “You’re here? What? Fuck.”
“I’m here. We need to talk, Jace. Are you here alone? Can you go inside the house with me?” Colt kept his voice quiet, somewhat amused. Jace’s movements were shaky, a little sloppy. Colt knew all the signs, Jace was still drunk, but trying hard to sober up and just too stunned to pull himself together.
“Are you honeymooning here? Fuck. That never fuckin’ occurred to me. Of course, you would come here. You loved it here. Fuck!” Jace pushed himself up to a sitting position and dropped his legs on each side of the chair while scrubbing his hands over his face. Jace leaned over the edge of the chair, scooped up some water from the cooler, splashing his face before turning back as if to see if Colt were still there. “Fuck! What are you doing here with me? Where’s your wife?”
Even to Colt, when Jace said the word wife, he sneered and for some reason that gave him hope. “I didn’t get married, Jace. I’m not here on my honeymoon. Please answer my question. Are you alone? Can we go inside?”
“Why do you wanna go inside?” Jace rose, brushing his hair off his face, and he stumbled a little on his feet. “Fuck, I never drink. It’s because of you that I’m even in this state. Go away,” Jace shouted and turned, heading toward the house, but turned quickly back around. Colt took a couple of steps in his direction, stopping in midstride as Jace spun around, and faced him.
“Why are you here?” His love yelled, clearly angry, but stunningly beautiful in his irritated state. The moon escaped the clouds and shone brightly down on Jace. He stood tall and strong with his swim trunks riding low on his hips, the dark line of Jace’s treasure trail drew Colt’s attention, making his mouth water. Jace was perfectly sculpted from head to toe, and a sight to behold, even completely annoyed.