Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
It felt like it lasted for hours, and yet it ended too soon. As Amani slowly parted their lips, reality came crashing back in, knocking the breath from Vic and leaving him struggling, reeling, vertigo a subtle and yet entirely disorienting thing. Falling forward, he rested his brow against Amani’s stomach, muslin cool against his skin—and Amani let him, relaxing his grip on Vic’s hair to curl a warm, soothing hand against the back of his neck, just resting there, anchoring him to the world again.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, that was…”
Amani’s body shook lightly against him in a gentle laugh. “I had a feeling you would be lovely on your knees.” He bent down, sultry voice purring against Vic’s ear. “I was right.”
All it took was that knowing voice, those lips so close against his skin, and Vic’s cock jerked hard against his jeans; he closed his eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. “That…wasn’t anything I expected. I feel…” He couldn’t find words. Couldn’t find words for the tight, clenching feeling that started in the center of his chest and plunged down to his stomach, this thing like heat and terror and lust and loneliness all at once. He shook his head, leaning harder into Amani. “Fuck.”
Lightly roughened fingers brushed under his chin, coaxing him to look up, meeting those half-lidded eyes that seemed to know him without knowing him at all; that smile that seemed just on the verge of whispering all his secrets. “Did you really think you would kiss me and make me melt for you, straight boy?”
Vic let out a shaky laugh. “Seems like I’m not really straight now, am I?”
“Mm.” Amani traced Vic’s lower lip with the very edge of his thumbnail, making it tingle with the reminder of the soft yet insistent pressure of that mouth, the taste of him still wet on Vic’s lips. “So the little straight boy’s now the little bisexual boy.”
“I’m not little,” Vic protested, and Amani laughed again.
“Being called ‘little’ is the part of this that bothers you?”
Vic hesitated, asking himself—asking himself, really, how he felt about the fact that he’d just kissed a man. A beautiful, enticing, entirely confusing, immensely frustrating little wildfire of a man, all passion and conviction hidden behind cool control. A man who had, in a matter of days, completely flipped his understanding of his own sexuality without even trying; all Amani had had to do was breathe to make Vic realize he might not know himself as well as he thought.
No, he thought. That was the easy part. Amani was attractive. Vic was attracted to him.
The rest of this, though…
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little bit bisexual,” he murmured, bowing his head once more and leaning into Amani again.
With a thrumming, thoughtful sound, Amani laced those warm hands together against Vic’s nape. “Just like that, hm?”
“Bi or not, I’m still me, eh?”
“You are,” Amani assured softly.
“Way I see it…I’m not really changing. I’m just learning something that was already there, I just didn’t know it.” Yet Vic still felt like a ship adrift, and right now Amani was the anchor keeping him stable. “Nothing to be scared about with that, eh?”
“Not in this situation, no.” Every word was surprisingly gentle, considering how Amani had so frequently challenged him before—but he needed that, right now. Needed that gentleness. “I can think of a number of straight men who’d react much more violently.”
Vic couldn’t help a soundless laugh, body shaking. “You forget that I’ve spent my life with Ash Harrington.”
“Ah, yes,” Amani retorted. “Our favorite TMZ tabloid prince.”
“The one and only.” Vic sighed. “I’ve watched him go down on three dicks in a row and not bothered stopping my homework. He was a bit of a wild one, back then.”
“You speak of him with fondness.”
“He’s my best friend. Almost like my brother. And, well…now that he’s settled down, he actually seems happy. So I’m happy for him.”
Those fingers against his nape circled gently, inviting him to melt, to shiver himself apart. “And envious, I think.”
The sting of that made his next breath hurt, swallowed in his throat like a knot of spikes, and he closed his eyes again. “What would I have to be envious of?”
“Have you ever made time in your life to just be happy?”
“No,” Vic whispered. “I don’t think I have.”
CHAPTER SIX
AMANI SHOULD HAVE WALKED AWAY the moment Victor Newcomb asked him to stay.
He had no desire to be a curiosity, a novelty, a plaything used to gratify a rich man’s whim until he grew bored with the newness of being queer and tossed Amani aside for the next thrill.
Yet when Vic had leaned over him, pale blue eyes alight with something more than just curiosity, almost begging him with something subtle and unspoken…
Something deep and powerful had roused inside Amani, as if some ancient summoning called in all its fire and strength and glory in response to the quiet spell of longing Victor Newcomb had cast.