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)
“It’s getting dark in here. Sun will be down soon. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Can you stick around a while? Would you like to go out and get something to eat?”
Jack’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He knew whether or not he was ready for something more with Will, he definitely wanted to “stick around”. Sharing a meal would be a good way to ease himself back into a comfort zone.
“That’d be great. Did you have somewhere specific in mind?”
“I did, actually. There’s this English pub I like to go to from time to time. They have good ales and dark beer on tap and hearty food. They have darts too. I’m quite a bit better at darts than at pool.” He laughed. “Maybe I could challenge you to a game.”
Jack grinned. “Sounds like the perfect evening. But am I dressed okay?” He glanced down, realizing he’d been so caught up in his thoughts he’d forgotten to put his shirt on.
“The jeans are fine. Would you like to borrow a shirt? I mean, you can wear the work shirt, of course, but if you wanted something different, I’ve got a whole closetful. Take your pick.”
He moved toward the closet and slid back the doors to reveal several dozen button-down shirts. “This would look nice on you, I think. It’s got a looser cut than most of my shirts, so it should fit your broader build okay.” He held up a white shirt. Jack took it, surprised by how soft the material felt between his fingers.
He stood to put it on. Will watched as he buttoned it, making Jack self-conscious. “Does it look okay?”
“It looks great. Shows off your massive chest and shoulders. From this moment that shirt belongs to you. It looks like it was tailor-made for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your shirt—” Jack began, both embarrassed and pleased by Will’s praise.
“Take it. You can see I have more than I need, and that one never fit me right anyway. It would make me happy if you kept it. Then every time you wear it you can think of me.”
They stood smiling at one another for several seconds. Suddenly Jack realized Will, wrapped in only a towel, must be waiting to get dressed. “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be downstairs.” With a few long strides he reached the door.
Will pulled on black silk bikini underwear and black jeans. He decided on a black button-down silk shirt as a complement to Jack’s white one. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it looked tailor-made for him. A body like that shouldn’t be hidden.
He picked up Jack’s worn denim work shirt and looked at the tag. It was easily several sizes too large, even for Jack. Though he hated to admit it, the stereotype of straight men not knowing how to dress was all too often true. Jack’s jeans were baggy too. He’d look hot with those thickly muscled thighs wrapped in form-fitting black denim or even better, leather. Will laughed to himself, doubting he’d ever get Jack in leather.
One step at a time, he told himself with a grin. One step at a time. He lifted Jack’s shirt to his face and inhaled deeply, Jack’s manly scent permeating the garment. It was part sweat, part something woodsy and fresh, part aftershave. He folded the shirt and gently placed it on the bed before returning to the bathroom to get ready.
Things were already progressing at a rate he’d never have dreamed of only a few days before. What a serious turn-on it had been to realize Jack was standing inside the bathroom door, rooted to the spot as he watched Will touch himself. He’d tried to draw out the show once he’d realized he had an audience, but knowing Jack was watching had excited him so much he couldn’t hold off for long.
He’d decided as he dried off he wouldn’t let on to Jack he’d seen him peeping. Knowing Jack the little he did, he figured it would be too embarrassing for him to admit at this point. Though he was dying to find out if Jack had been excited by his little show, or simply curious, he knew now wasn’t the time to probe.
They’d go out to the pub and have a nice, uncomplicated, non-threatening time. Maybe he would invite Jack to come back home with him afterwards or maybe he wouldn’t. Jack would let him know, one way or the other, the right thing to do. One step at a time…
Over hot, crispy fish ’n’ chips and pints of Guinness Stout, Will and Jack talked about their work, about movies they’d seen, about politics, about the stock market and the price of gasoline, about everything except what was simmering just below the surface, at least for Jack.