Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
After a moment Will managed to open his eyes, drinking in the sexy sight of his lover, his dark hair falling over into his eyes, his face and throat ribboned with pearly ejaculate.
“Oh. My. God.”
Will startled at the sound of a stranger’s voice. He glanced rapidly toward the doorway of the workshop, instinctively crossing his legs over his bare sex. His jeans were out of reach, caught beneath Jack’s knees. The young man who stood in the door was perhaps twenty-two or -three. Though his hair was lighter and his eyes a different color, there was no doubting this was Jack’s son.
Before Will could even wipe his sperm from Jack’s face, Jack’s head swiveled toward the sound of his son’s voice. The young man’s face was a frozen mask of horror.
“Eric.” Jack’s voice was faint. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously,” Eric hissed, his face mottled with splotches of dark red as he looked from his father to Will and back again.
“Wait for me in the kitchen.”
His eyes narrowed with disgust, Eric raked his gaze over Will and his father before turning on his heel. He slammed the door so hard it rattled in its frame. Will could hear the little ass clomping dramatically away.
Jack pulled himself up onto the sofa beside Will. He was pale, a film of perspiration on his forehead and upper lip. He looked like he was going to pass out.
Dragging his hand over his forehead, Jack said unnecessarily, “That was my son. My younger son, Eric.”
“I gathered,” Will said, trying but failing to smile. Jack sat still as a stone for at least half a minute. Will meanwhile retrieved his underwear and jeans, the endorphins from his recent orgasm nullified by the shock of the situation.
“You okay?” Will reached out to wipe a gob of semen from Jack’s cheek. Abruptly Jack pushed his hand away. He put his own hand to the spot and then looked at his fingers.
“Jesus.” He sounded dazed. “I’ve got to go talk to him.”
He stood awkwardly and began to walk, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, as if his nervous system and muscles had gone on strike. He didn’t look back at Will. He didn’t ask him to wait, or for that matter, to go.
At the door he did finally turn back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Then he was gone.
Will sank back against the sofa. Was he just supposed to leave? Was this it? Had Jack been caught out and so now it was all over?
Will recalled now the ringing sound he had heard, realizing it must have been the doorbell. He thought of his own parents’ house. He too, would have rung the doorbell to be polite, but then let himself in, though he would have called out his arrival. Maybe Eric had called out too, but they hadn’t heard, so intent on each other as they had been.
Jesus, what a mess. What a stupid, ridiculous mess. Will didn’t like messes. He liked things neat and orderly. He most especially didn’t like to be judged, not by some snot-nosed little punk who disapproved of his father’s choice in a partner. Disapproval, or more accurately, outright horror and disgust had been painted on his face as clear as day.
What a shock to discover your father was a faggot, Will thought bitterly. Of course Jack hadn’t broken the news to his family. Things were far too new for that. How would Jack respond to being caught? Would he deny what Eric had seen with his own eyes? Would he deny it not only to Eric, but to himself as well?
He wanted to run after them, to beg Jack not to betray what they had by lying or trying to make excuses for what had occurred in the privacy of his own home between two grown men. He wanted to scream it was none of Eric’s business, or anyone else’s for that matter.
Tears pricked Will’s eyes. A sexy, wonderful moment had been ruined, destroyed perhaps beyond repair. If you don’t fall in love, you can’t fall out of it. More importantly, you can’t get hurt. Will hurt now, and bad. He leaned over, dropping his head into his hands.
He wanted to follow them into that bright little kitchen. He wanted to defend Jack and himself, to tell that kid he had some nerve just walking in on them. But he knew in his bones Jack wouldn’t welcome him coming to the rescue. No, Will was expected to wait, abandoned and alone, while Jack dealt with his demons on his own terms. If that meant shutting Will out and cutting him loose, Will would have to deal with it. What choice did he have? He would have to trust Jack had the courage and honesty to be true not only to his son, but to himself.