Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Free placed a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth, then more along his coarse cheek. He stood frozen and three-quarters erect, not wanting to do anything that would stop Free’s mouth from moving over him. “I know it’s late. But, I’m not tired. If you still feel up to talking some…”
Hart took Free’s hand from his jaw and kissed it. He wanted to do more too, but this wasn’t the place. He was close to saying, no, that’s okay, you’ve done enough already, but he knew that wouldn’t’ve been the truth. He was going to be completely selfish for once. He needed Free’s company tonight. Desperately. “Thank you for staying.”
Free
“Do you want to follow me?” Hart asked, standing in the parking lot reserved for bikes only. “My house isn’t far from here. Few blocks.”
Free’s scooter was almost comical amongst the larger bikes, but he didn’t care. “Sure. Just don’t leave me in the wind. My max speed is forty-five.”
“Really?” Hart gave him a pitying expression that made him smile.
“Yes. Really.” Free unstrapped his helmet from his seat and straddled his scooter, waiting for Hart to lead. He had his book bag, with his change of clothes. Presumptuous, yes, but he liked to be prepared. His bottom lip almost hit the asphalt when Hart pulled out a rustic brown, soft-leather jacket from the saddle bag and threw it over his broad shoulders. Free’s mouth watered as he watched strong thighs straddle that shiny beast and bring her powerful engine to life. The roar vibrated in his chest, the vision adding to the sensation now working its way to his balls.
Hart peered over his shoulder, shooting him a knowing grin, as if he knew exactly what Free was thinking. And he didn’t try to hide it. He licked his lips, adjusted himself and slid his own helmet on. Get your ass moving, Hart. Free didn’t care how late it was. He would’ve stayed until dawn if that was how long the op had taken. He didn’t know why Hart didn’t think he was worth the wait.
Free would just have to show him.
He followed closely as Hart kept an easy pace of forty miles per hour through the dark, sparsely occupied streets, then made a right onto Glenwood Place. He loved how Hart rode with one hand on the bars and one on his thigh. So damn fine.
The neighborhood was quiet. Most of the small, ranch-style homes looked as if the occupants had already called it a night. Indistinct lights shone through random windows as he cruised by. He never would’ve imagined Hart living in a quaint community like this and coming home to a wife every night, but he had.
They turned onto his street, and Hart cut the engine and walked his bike up the driveway and into his garage. Free did the same. There was a new model pickup truck parked inside, as well as a classic bike that was maybe a hobby project. When Hart put his kickstand down, Free removed his helmet and pointed at the heap of tools next to the bike.
Hart shrugged. “Doubt I’ll ever get it going again, but I just can’t let her go.” He smiled fondly. “My pop gave it to me when I was fifteen. My ex never used to like me to ride so it kind of got ignored after so long. I hate I did that.”
Free didn’t ask Hart to elaborate anymore on the bike or his family, since his smile was more melancholy than nostalgic. “It’s pretty awesome.”
Hart fidgeted with his keys, his head down and jaw set. “Um, we can go on in.”
“Sure.” Free gripped the straps of his book bag with both hands, rocking on his heels while Hart inserted the key. When he opened the door, he stepped to the side and held it open for him. He climbed the couple of steps into the house, making sure to brush himself across Hart’s broad chest as he did.
The garage door opened into the utility room. It wasn’t a complete mess, but Free smiled at the pile of unfolded whites spewing from a large hamper and a mound of uniforms on the floor in front of the washer. He made sure not to step on anything as he walked past and into a narrow hallway. It was dark, so he waited for Hart to flick on more switches.
“Excuse the mess.” Hart coughed nervously. He dropped his own bag at the door and led them farther inside. “In here is a bit neater.”
Free followed Hart down the hall, noticing the tightness in his neck and shoulders. The corridor opened into a decent-sized living room separated by a long wall. The floors were all shiny wood and there was a couple of nice area rugs dividing the dining and living space.