Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Soon after, he came in me with a yell. He slammed into me so hard that it rocked the big piece of furniture beneath me, and I moaned as he jerked me off. Then I was coming too, shooting onto my body as he pushed into me again and again. I cried out as my orgasm made the room spin. It was overwhelming and perfect and wonderful.
I loved the fact that he was much more coherent than I was after sex. He cleaned me up with a towel, then unfastened my cuffs and carried me into the bedroom. After he curled up in bed with me, I stared up at him with unguarded adoration. I was limp and satiated and my ass was throbbing from being fucked so hard, and all of that was exactly what I’d wanted. Micah kissed me tenderly, and then he took off my glasses and put them on the nightstand. I fell asleep a few moments later.
I awoke to find Micah sitting beside me with a book. He’d showered at some point and gotten dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. I loved the fact that he’d stopped trying to hide the anklet from me. That told me he wasn’t worried about me secretly judging him.
When I stirred, he took off his glasses and put them and his latest spy thriller on the nightstand. I flashed him a groggy smile and asked, “How long was I asleep?”
He gently brushed my hair from my eyes, then handed me my glasses, which brought everything into focus. “Three hours, maybe? I think it’s about six pm or so.”
I stretched my arms over my head, then murmured, “Be right back. I want to get cleaned up.”
After I used the bathroom and showered, I returned to the bedroom and opened one of the drawers in his dresser. I’d moved some of my clothes down here, because it was easier than running upstairs every time I needed to change. I put on a cute pair of briefs, a T-shirt, and a pair of sweat pants before digging deeper in the drawer. Finally, I uncovered the wrapped present I’d hidden there the night before.
I picked up my phone from the top of the dresser and glanced at the screen as I told him, “It’s almost seven. Should we do something easy for dinner, like ordering a pizza?”
“That sounds great, actually.” I stuck the phone in my pocket, then went and stood beside him. When I put the gift in his lap, he asked, “What’s this?”
“Something I made for you. I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”
“If you made it, then I know I’ll love it.”
“We’ll see. I may have totally miscalculated.”
He untied the indigo silk ribbon and carefully removed the blue metallic wrapping paper, which made me smile. He’d taken it off in one piece, as if he didn’t want to mess it up, and then he put it on the nightstand. As he lifted the lid on the white box, I explained, “I wanted to make you something as a thank you, after all you’ve done for me.”
He pulled a miniature, aluminum lunch box from its white tissue paper nest. I’d decoupaged the five-inch-wide box with a street map of San Francisco—the Tenderloin where he’d grown up was on one side, and Presidio Heights where he currently lived was on the other. The sides were hinged, so when he unhooked the clasps at the top they both folded flat, revealing a three-inch-high, three-dimensional paperboard model of his house.
He murmured, “Wow, Jasper, this is incredible.”
I’d tried to include a lot of detail and make it as accurate as possible. The finishing touches were two tiny figures sitting on a bed on the roof. One had shoulder-length dark hair and was playing the guitar. I’d placed a tiny figure of myself beside him.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and said softly, “I was thinking years from now, when you’ve moved on and your house arrest is nothing but a distant memory, you might want a keepsake of the first house you bought yourself, and the time you and I shared here. It’s in that metal box so you can take it with you, wherever you end up.” I looked away and mumbled, “Maybe this is a terrible gift, though. You don’t actually seem to like your house, and just because I’ll always want to remember this doesn’t mean you want to, so—”
He leaned over and kissed me, and then he rested his forehead against mine and told me, “Of course I want to remember. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me by far, and I’ll always cherish it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Jasper.”
When I leaned back and met his gaze, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. I whispered, “Oh, Micah.” Then I took his face between my hands and kissed him again.