Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“You’re still not interested in hooking up tonight, though, are you?” She crossed her arms, giving me a knowing smile.
“It’s not you,” I told her.
“Of course not. I never would have thought it is.” She winked. “Have fun, sugar,” Serenity said before taking off to find her trick for the night. More power to her.
I grabbed a towel, dried off, found my bag, and went into the house in search of an empty bedroom. A lot of them were occupied, but there were also people kissing, touching, and fucking out in the open.
The first two rooms I found had locked doors. The next one was unlocked, but there were three people going at it inside.
“Wanna play?” the guy asked, but I shook my head and snuck out.
I took the stairs leading to the ground floor and followed another hallway until I finally found a room that was empty.
My phone was in my bag. I scrolled down to where it said Bougie.
Me: Downstairs—bottom floor, second door on the right.
I plopped down on the bed, silently berating myself for sitting around at a party like this and waiting for Patrick fucking Whitt to find me.
Six minutes later, the door opened. He came inside, closing it and locking it behind him.
“That was fast.”
“What can I say? The prospect of getting my dick sucked was motivating.”
I shook my head. “What if I want my dick sucked?”
Whitt didn’t reply for a moment. He just walked over, not stopping until he was standing right in front of me. “I dare you to get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Goddamn it. He knew I couldn’t pass up a bet. “Motherfucker.” I pushed him out of the way and slid to the floor.
9
WHITT
I knew what I was doing this time. Couldn’t blame it on booze because I’d had one beer since arriving. Couldn’t blame it on loneliness because I’d been a lone wolf long before Tucker, and I’d managed fine. Couldn’t blame it on being pent up because I’d jacked off this morning and could’ve had someone in my bed in seconds, man or woman—or both, judging by everything I’d seen since walking through the door of this party—and I’d wanted none of it the way I wanted Malik Tucker’s hands on me again.
After months of only seeing him on a screen, his presence at the edge of the bed before me was too real, too magnified. I noticed things I didn’t want to, like a tiny scythe-shaped scar at his temple, the natural upturn at the corners of his mouth, how fucking calm he seemed. And how something inside me had felt settled as I’d closed the door behind me.
I’d had time to sort through this shit in my head. I got off with Tucker harder than I did anyone else, that was a fact. Also a fact: his mere existence pissed me off at least ninety percent of the time I thought about him. But these two things somehow coexisted. And if I was able to stay on the level about it all, why the fuck shouldn’t I indulge myself every now and again?
My gaze locked onto the depths of Tucker’s as I approached, and my thoughts distilled into a single one. I knew why I was here, and Tucker did, too. In his dark eyes, the same sentiment was reflected back at me.
He ran a hand up my thigh, over the growing bulge in my shorts, as I stopped in front of him. My dick leapt at the brief contact, hips angling forward, chasing the sensation as his fingers trailed upward, following the waistband of my shorts and skimming the bare skin of abs that flexed automatically with the caress. He held my gaze as he grabbed the top of my shorts and yanked them down. My cock popped free, hard and ready for the hand he wrapped around it.
I stifled a moan as he stroked me slowly, tried to ignore the precum that beaded up on my slit when he tightened his grip, but I lost the battle and let out a quiet huff of pleasure as he ran his thumb along my crown, spreading the slickness. Arching into the sensation, I barely registered that I’d let a hand fall to his shoulder, that my fingers caressed the bare skin of his collarbone, moving around to the smooth skin of his neck, flexing and contracting of their own volition as he jerked me.
“Eager,” Tucker murmured and leaned back, which was the wrong direction. I wanted that mouth, that smirk, so much closer than it was. I wanted it wrapped around my cock and his caustic tongue licking up my shaft. When I responded by increasing the pressure of my fingers on the back of his neck, urging him closer, he chuckled but relented, and the warm exhalation over the head of my cock was almost as good as his mouth. Almost.