Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Fitch’s brow creased, but he didn’t speak.
“Listen, you don’t need to understand. It’s a bunch of bullshit created to separate us with categories and distinctions. Oh look, there goes that white, Catholic, German, female, lesbian, mother, nurse. Why can’t it just be, there goes that human fucking being?”
Fitch put up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, I agree. I’m just curious about the definitions. I’m new to this whole thing, remember?”
Ansel pushed his fingers through his hair and leaned back. “Sorry. Sore subject.”
“I get it. My sister has given me speech after speech about gender equality, LGBTQ interests, and separation of humanity. I just want to understand you. Just you, not the whole world.”
Absurdly touched by Fitch’s statement, Ansel gave in to a small smile. “This is all you need to know about me. I like pretty things, but I also love my cock. I don’t want to be a woman, but I happen to look like one. I enjoy wearing heels, experimenting with makeup, and sparkly things. I also enjoy sticking my hand down my pants and scratching my balls, ’cause, yes, I do have them. So, if you asked me out tonight because you thought I was almost a woman or might eventually be one, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“That’s not why I asked you out.”
“Why did you, then?”
“I already told you.”
“Yeah, you can’t stop thinking about me. But what do you want to happen? Are we just going to share a meal and go our separate ways? Did you want to kiss me good-night? Or do you want to come back to my place and get naked?”
Chapter Eleven
Fitch’s burger was halfway to his mouth when Ansel stopped talking, the proposition clear in the arch of a blond brow and the sparkle in those green eyes. He swallowed the saliva pooling on his tongue. Would he ever get used to the guy’s utter frankness? He put his burger on the plate, glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within hearing distance, and debated his options for about five seconds before meeting Ansel’s challenging gaze.
“Is that last option on the table?”
Ansel’s slow smirk was ten times more mind-blowing than ever before. He blinked his long lashes. “Can we finish our meal first? These fries are too good to waste.”
Fitch somehow managed to make his food disappear in less than two minutes. When he was finished with his own plate, he started helping Ansel with his, not that he needed much help. He was doing an admirable job shoveling the rest of the fries, cheese and chicken into his mouth. He was smarter than Fitch and actually chewed his food. Their plates were empty in record time, and in complete silence. When the waitress came to clear their table, Fitch asked for the bill and paid.
“Thanks,” Ansel said as they left the diner. “For dinner.”
“It was all part of my plan to get in your pants.” He prided himself for speaking his mind without checking for witnesses first.
Ansel’s laugh was husky and sent another cascade of shivers down his spine. All night, the little noises, tempting looks, flirtatious smirks, rolled over Fitch like a tsunami of pleasure and left him trying to catch his breath in the aftermath.
“Honey, all you had to do was ask.”
Fitch led the way to his Chevy and even opened the door for Ansel, like a gentleman. His date might be of the same sex, but that didn’t mean he would abandon everything he was taught.
“Which direction?” Fitch asked as he pulled away from the curb. It was still dark and the streets were empty.
“Left here and a right at the next light.” Ansel dug around in the leather satchel he carried and came out with a pack of gum. He pulled out a stick. “Want one?”
Fitch took the offered piece and pushed it into his mouth. Fresh breath meant longer kisses and, damn, did he want to kiss Ansel senseless.
“Is this the purse you were looking for?” Ansel asked, pulling out a blue envelope-looking thing from his bag.
“You found it?”
“Terry picked it up after closing. Your sister’s girlfriend is lucky.”
Stashing the purse on the seat between them, Fitch said, “I’ll tell her, thanks.” He didn’t ask who Terry was because he was afraid of the answer. The familiarity with which Ansel said the name spoke of some kind of intimacy. The guy had said he didn’t date, he hadn’t said he wasn’t currently fucking someone on the regular. The idea made the burger in his stomach congeal and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“It’s okay, you know.” Ansel’s voice was quieter than usual, distant. And when Fitch glanced over Ansel was staring into his lap, his fingers tangled together.
“What is?”
“If you’ve changed your mind.” Those long lashes fluttered as Ansel looked up at him and for a breath of an instant they were so easy to read, it was like looking into Ansel’s mind and knowing exactly what he was thinking. It was just a tiny crack in his armor, but it shined so much light it was almost blinding. And all Fitch saw was the fragile, yearning core of a man hardened by circumstances. A man he wanted to understand. A man he needed to know.