Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Somehow, someway, I managed to regain control. I pulled back, even though Noah’s hand on my neck made me feel like I was minutes away from making a sticky mess inside my briefs, which I could already feel were wet from how excited Noah’s taste had me. If I didn’t break the kiss now, then it would be game over. We’d both be naked and writhing on this couch, and that would forever change whatever track this friendship was on—possibly for the better but also maybe for the worst. I didn’t want to risk it.
Not tonight.
Not yet.
“That, uhm,” Noah said, speechless, his jaw slightly dropped. “I should probably get to bed.”
“Same,” I said, standing up and making a show of bending to grab the wineglasses, buying time for the blood in my body to rush elsewhere. By the way Noah’s eyes dropped to my crotch, I didn’t think I was very successful.
“Ah, crap,” he said as I disappeared into the kitchen. “I didn’t bring any sleeping shorts. You’ve got any I could borrow?”
“I think so. Hold up.” I set the wineglasses in the sink and ran the cold water, splashing some on my face before wiping it off with the checkered hand towel. A deep breath did nothing to calm my racing thoughts. Part of me said—no, shouted—to throw caution to the window and throw Noah on the bed. But that part of me had gotten in trouble before, landing in bed with people that later gave me more regrets than orgasms. Not to say Noah would be one of those people, but we’d already proved to have similar interests and endless conversations that were actually entertaining. Why risk derailing things so soon?
Noah was already in the guest room when I finished rooting around my bedroom. I leaned on the doorway and lifted up a pair of red-and-white boxers. “It’s laundry day, which means all my clothes are sitting in a hamper waiting to be organized. All I’ve got are these boxers. I swear they’re clean.”
“I wouldn’t mind if they weren’t.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” he said, grabbing the boxers and smiling.
I laughed, that part of me shouting even louder. All I had to do was kiss him again. Guide him down onto the mattress. There, I could kiss his neck, touch his chest, grind against his cock. I could have my way with him. Make him mine. Have him yelling my name, making me do the same. Rattling the headboard so hard that I was sure I’d need to buy a replacement by the time the sun came up.
“Alright,” I said instead, turning before my bulge poked out one of Noah’s eyes. Lord knows he couldn’t keep them off it. “Have a good night, Noah. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Night, Jake. Thanks for having me over tonight. It means a lot.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I closed his door and went to my bedroom, where I immediately dropped my shorts and took myself in my hand, resting against the door as I shut my eyes and imagined Noah down on his knees, lips wrapped around me. I blew in minutes, my toes curling against the hardwood floors as I shot ropes of come, the sound of the splatter mixing with Noah’s name falling in whispers from my lips as my eyes rolled back.
And even with that release, I still had a sex dream starring Noah and me on a yacht in Greece.
7
NOAH BARNES
I woke up to the delicious smell of scrambled eggs and sizzling bacon. Confusion soon followed as I wondered who the hell was in my kitchen cooking breakfast? It took a couple of sleep-dazed seconds to remember that I wasn’t actually in my house, nor was I still dreaming. This was Jake’s guest bedroom, and I was wearing Jake’s underwear, which he had been so gracious in lending me and I’d been so fucking horny in wearing them. Seriously, I think I slept the entire night with a boner, judging by how I woke up with my hard dick poking out from the slit.
I gave myself a couple of tugs but figured I should drag myself out of bed before I had to explain to Jake why his bedsheets needed a quick wash.
I changed out of the boxers, putting on the shorts I wore yesterday along with a simple T-shirt. Jake had set up the guest bathroom with toothpaste and a toothbrush still in its plastic container. I tore it open and brushed my teeth, looking around at the clean white subway tiles and claw-foot bathtub with its brushed copper handles, a small and opaque window letting in just enough morning light.
Aside from looks, the man also had style. He knew how to decorate so that everything fit together and nothing was overwhelmingly gaudy or tacky. It was impressive and attractive… not that I should even be thinking along those lines. There was nothing between Jake and me but a solid friendship.