Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Hey. I saw them, not you. People were going crazy for you, and you sure as shit had my dick hard. But then, you always do, Superass. You turned into Sex-God Gary like you do when we’re fucking. I swear to Christ, every man you’re with after this ends is in for such a fucking treat.” For reasons I don’t want to dissect, those words taste bitter on my tongue, so I decide to have Gary’s taste there instead.
I crush my lips to his, don’t go slow as I push my tongue into his mouth. He melts against me as he always does, and I want to savor the feeling, to ingrain it into my body. Kissing him deeper, I hold the sides of his face in my hands, suck on his tongue and grin against his mouth when he nips at my lip.
“Mmm. You’re a good kisser. I’ve never been a huge fan of kissing. I think I appreciate it more now.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Don’t do that,” I tell him. “I hate it when you do that. Don’t put yourself down. Fuck anyone and everyone who doesn’t see your worth, and you need to start seeing it yourself.”
I have no fucking clue why I’m getting so mushy all of a sudden.
“Come on. Let’s go make an appearance and talk to Steven and Raymond. Oh, and you know I want one of those lap dances, right?”
Gary nods, but something feels a little off with him. I figure he just needs to work through it the way I would, so I hold his hand again because that feels like a boyfriend thing to do, especially after your man grinds his ass on someone else’s cock. I totally should have thought of that shit.
We put our shoes on, what’s left of our clothes, and a bartender gives us some spare shirts left over from a fundraiser before we end up in the middle of the room. Gary’s in front of me, my arms wrapped around him from behind as we watch the rest of the show. Steven and Raymond join us for part of it, tell us how well it’s doing, how impressed they are with us…what a good team we make together.
I let my gaze travel to Gary when they say that. I’ve never played real well with others, so I’m not sure I’ve made a good team with anyone before.
We have a few men tallying up money as the show goes along. When it’s over, Miss Laurie Firebomb takes the stage to announce the winner: “Number two! Gary, get your sexy ass up here!”
He doesn’t move. Everyone starts clapping and cheering. I’m laughing as I give him a little shove and swat the sexy ass Miss Firebomb was just talking about. “Go on. Get up there. You deserve it,” I tell him, and damned if that pride doesn’t fill every inch of me again as I watch Gary go.
25
Gary
We have several more shots before leaving Flirt—victory shots provided by Steven and Raymond and some other guys I didn’t even know.
After I claim my thousand-dollar bar tab prize, everything becomes a bit hazy as my thoughts scramble to make sense of all that happened with Travis. He kept calling me his boyfriend and telling me how special I was. He fucking stood up to Peter for me. But then he said he didn’t care if I’d gone home with the guy I did the lap dance for.
I sure as fuck didn’t expect that. I was kind of hoping it’d make him at least a little bit jealous, but I guess he’d have to feel like I’m more than a fuck buddy for that to happen.
We head back to Metropolis, and soon, the taste of vodka on his tongue and lips mixes with the tequila on mine as Travis pushes me up against the door to his condo.
“God…you were…fucking amazing out there,” he says between kisses. “You made all those other guys, even me, look like fucking amateurs.”
He starts kissing at my throat. I glance around because we’re still in the hall. We need to get into his condo, but I don’t want to stop the feeling his mouth against my flesh stirs.
It all feels so good. Not just this kiss. Tonight. Being with him. And the worst of it, the most unsettling part, is when the thought crosses my mind: Why does it have to be pretend?
Why does he have to be a good guy? Why can’t I keep seeing him as the conceited guy I thought he was when we first started this?
It was so easy then.
But this has gotten so hard because I don’t like that it’s a lie anymore.
His lips return to mine.
I just want a few more. That’s what I keep telling myself. What got me into this mess. I want him. Crave him. I keep thinking that the more we fuck, the less I’ll need it, but the intensity hasn’t waned. It just keeps getting better and better. Because now that he’s someone I like as a person, what was already hot sex has turned into even better sex—something I would never have even thought was possible.