Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I stared up at him, over the gorgeous expanse of his chest, until our eyes met, then grabbed his hand in mine and pushed down firmly. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted with me. I wanted him rough and earthy and impolite and Dunn.
His eyes widened in understanding, and I swear his cock jerked in my mouth.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed. He held my head in place and thrust into my mouth once, twice… then he cried out my name and came down my throat.
A second later, I was on my knees between his legs, jerking myself off to the sight of Dunn Johnson—Dunn Johnson!—splayed out naked in my den in the firelight, and with his lust-glazed eyes watching my every move, I came all over his chest.
“Oh my God.” I braced a hand on his shoulder to catch myself, squeezed my eyes shut, and panted like I’d just run six miles. “I have… no feeling… whatsoever… from my thighs down. I might… be dead.”
Dunn’s shuddering breath fanned my face, and I blinked my eyes open. “Dunn? That was a joke.”
But Dunn had lifted a hand to trail his fingers through the spattered cum on his chest—my cum—and some emotion I couldn’t recognize was working behind his eyes. “Well, okay, then,” he said softly.
For maybe the first time ever, I couldn’t read him at all. I couldn’t tell if what he was feeling was disgust or satisfaction or something in between. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad or freaking out or just really tired.
“What’s that mean?” I demanded.
“It means… Thank you, Tuck. This helped. A lot.” He smiled.
I blinked. Like, helped how? Helped him decide he was bi? Helped him decide he never wanted to do this again?
Before I could ask him, he stretched out his arms and legs with a groan and yawned hugely. “I am so sleeping over tonight.”
“You are?” I shifted backward, then scrambled off the sofa. Where were my damn jeans?
“Totally. I feel more drunk than you were on sangria. Like, I’ve never felt this loose in my life.” He stretched his arms to the ceiling and grinned at me, totally unconcerned by his nakedness. “Mind if I use your shower? Hey, you still use that herbal shampoo I like?”
He walked off down the hall, not waiting for my answer, which was fine, since I didn’t know what to say.
I’d been trying to comfort him, pretty sure, like a sensitive friend… and he seemed pretty comfortable.
So, mission accomplished?
I followed him down the hall after a quick stop in the hallway half bath to clean up, and I’d just pulled on a pair of flannel pants when the shower turned off in the attached bath and Dunn emerged in a cloud of herbal-scented steam, wearing his boxer briefs and rubbing his head with a towel.
And what was the first, most essential thing I said at this juncture?
“I was not drunk on sangria.”
“No?” Dunn snorted and lay down on my bed like this was a thing we did all the time, then curled himself around my pillow. “Sure seemed like it. You were cute. I mean, when you weren’t pissing me off.”
I understood the feeling.
Acutely.
“Dunn, what are you doing?” I folded my arms over my chest. “There’s a guest room down the hall with your pajamas in the drawer.”
“Mmm. But I’m here now. And it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed.” He yawned so hard his jaw cracked. “We do it all the time out at the cabin.”
All the time was a serious exaggeration, and the amount of sleep I’d gotten on those nights could be counted in the minutes. I’d been too afraid I’d wind up wrapped around him or start muttering, “Fuck me, Dunn Johnson!” in my sleep or something.
“Come to bed, Tucker. I can feel you thinking from all the way over there.”
I sighed, still nonspecifically annoyed. “I usually sit up and do crosswords until I feel sleepy,” I complained.
“That’s okay. You won’t bother me.”
“How magnanimous of you,” I grumbled. But after rolling my eyes hard, I went out to the den and made sure the fire was out, shut out the lights, brushed my teeth, grabbed my crossword puzzles and glasses, and got into my side of the bed—by which I meant the 25 percent of the bed Dunn didn’t occupy.
Dunn’s breathing was deep and even, and his damp hair was tousled around his head, begging for my fingers to comb through it. I bit my lip and decided that this was still tonight, right? So I let myself do what I wanted. I stroked my fingers through those soft golden-brown locks.
Dunn sighed contentedly, and I snatched my hand away.
“Today y’almost fought Jenn over tater tots,” he chuckled sleepily.
Yes, that was indeed the most important takeaway of this day.
“Y’all ordered them anyway,” I grumbled.