Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I laugh and text back: My face? Puhleeze, I should send more money to whoever graced me with such an amazing bone structure and jawline.
Levi: Your dad? You’re Marcus Talon Junior.
I wince and reply: That’s the problem. My season is about to finish, all my dreams are about to come true. Everything I’ve worked for. Everything I am. Everything my dads raised me to be is now. I hit Send but I’m not done. I quickly follow up with: What if I fuck it all up?
Levi: Do you want a supportive message like ‘You won’t fuck it up because you’re awesome’ or would you like me to offer to blow you so you don’t have to think about it for a while?
Me: Where are you?
Levi: My place.
Me: I’ll be there in ten.
It takes only seven minutes to reach Levi’s house, and as soon as he opens the door, I forget my manners and don’t even say hi before advancing on him.
I can’t help it. He looks adorable in an apron covered in paint and clay, his hair messy like it used to be in high school. He even has a smear of clay on his forehead.
I push my way inside and drop my bag, immediately pressing him against the wall with my hips pinning him in place. My mouth is on his a second later.
But he doesn’t put his arms around me, and his lips are tentative. I force myself to pull back, but I keep my hips where they are, pressed against his, our cocks already hard between us. “Something wrong?”
He holds up his hands, which are a lovely shade of off-white from drying clay. “I was almost finished and about to wash up, but I think someone practically ran here.”
“I did. And I don’t care about your dirty hands. Kiss me.”
“All right, but you can’t ask me to do your laundry afterward.”
“Deal.”
Levi surges forward and fuses his mouth to mine. His arms wrap around me, and without warning, he pushes off the wall and spins us so I’m the one who’s pinned. My back hits with a thud, but I don’t care.
“Get your cock out for me,” Levi murmurs against my mouth before breaking away. “I won’t be able to use my hands this time because trust me, this stuff is a bitch to get off your skin. The last place you want it is anywhere … sensitive.”
“Maybe we should revisit you getting washed up first.”
Levi smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m very good with only my mouth too.”
“Can’t wait to find out how good.” I undo my pants.
I drop my jeans and underwear to my ankles and lift my T-shirt to tuck it under my chin.
Levi sinks to his knees, keeping his hands on his thighs over the top of the apron. And when he smirks up at me, looking so confident, I almost want to call a bluff.
Thank fuck I keep my mouth shut, though, because the second his lips wrap around my cock and he sucks all of me down to the back of his throat, I know this is going to be over with quickly.
Instead of bobbing his head and running his mouth all over me, he keeps my cock deep inside, only moving in small but powerful sucks. The suction and tightness around the head of my dick has me coming even sooner than I thought possible. It takes less time for me to come than it did for me to get my ass over here. I think even Levi is surprised by how fast it is because he has to pull back and take a breath.
The last of my cum dribbles out his mouth and down his chin before he uses a clean part of his apron to wipe it off.
“Damn.” I slump against the wall.
Levi stands. “All better?”
“Yes and no. I’m anticipating jokes about having no stamina and being a little … premature.”
“Nah. I think that just shows how much you needed that.” Levi leans in and kisses my cheek. “It’s also a compliment. I’ve still got skills.”
“You should get an award for your skills. A parade even. Hero’s medal of honor.” Even to my own ears, my tone is flat.
“Then why don’t you seem less stressed?”
I can’t answer him. Not only because I don’t want to, but because I actually don’t know the answer.
The truth is the buzz in my veins is settling the anxiety clawing at the back of my mind, but at the same time, dread builds in my gut.
Which again makes me question what my real issue is: football or Levi?
All I know for sure is I’m not in the right mindset, and that needs to change. Preferably before this weekend.
Levi puts his hands on my shoulders, and I already know I’m going to hate to see what my shirt looks like after this. He must read my mind because he starts massaging my tired muscles and wipes his hands all over me. Then he looks at me so innocently, like I don’t know what he’s doing.