Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” he said when his cock twitched inside Hop’s snug ass. Valiant, but useless. He was on the losing end of his thirtieth year and he’d lost the ability to keep an erection after he came. Still, his cock tried. Hard.
He’d known fucking Hop would be amazing. He had not expected it to get under his skin so fast or be quite so addicting. He levered himself up and took in his handiwork with pride.
Hop blinked up at him, dazed and flush, hair spread out in a pastel halo. His legs were hooked around Rafe’s waist, and those killer stilettos dug into the backs of his thighs. He imagined the marks they’d leave and bit down on the grin that wanted to split his face.
“One down, five to go.” Rafe swiped his fingers through the sticky pool of come on Hop’s stomach as satisfaction filled his veins.
“Too early to gloat.”
Jesus, he sounded drugged and was still full of attitude. It made Rafe want to fuck him all over again.
He brought a come-coated finger to his mouth.
It wasn’t the first time he’d tasted the jizz of another man, he’d tried his own once too, but it was the first time it tasted like fucking ambrosia.
He held the base of the condom with two fingers and reluctantly pulled out of Hop as gently as possible. Standing might as well have been an extreme sport with the way Rafe huffed and grunted, but he managed to get to his feet. Pulling the latex off, he crossed to the kitchen to toss it in the trash. When he returned, Hop was exactly where he’d left him. Rafe tucked his limp dick back into his slacks and zipped up.
“Clock is ticking,” he said, holding out a hand.
Hop slipped his long fingers into Rafe’s. He was as wobbly as a baby giraffe on those heels. Rafe kneeled.
“What are you doing?”
“Hold still.”
The silver clasp was so dainty Rafe struggled to unfasten it with his clumsy fingers, but he managed and pulled it off Hop’s foot. He did the same to the right, before he rose to lead Hop down the hall.
In the small bathroom, he flipped on the overhead light and turned on the shower.
“Wash up.”
“You’re just going to stand there?”
“For now.” He leaned against the sink and folded his arms. “Does it bother you?”
Hop stepped under the spray and squirted body wash into his hand. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Rafe seized this opportunity to admire Hop’s naked form for the first time. He was slim but solid. His muscles were chiseled, but not so hard they distracted from his grace. He had long calves and bony ankles. It was his long neck and generous ass that made him special, though. Both were works of art.
The first invoked all kinds of possessive instincts. It was practically designed for a collar. The second, well, it was created to be swatted.
Clearly rushing, Hop skipped all his naughty bits, angling his body away from Rafe. Rafe tsked, loosened his tie and pulled it off. His shirt went next. He toed off his shoes and pushed off his slacks and boxers in one smooth move. He was naked and crowding into the shower before Hop finished shampooing his hair. It was a tight fit, but the limited space gave him an excuse to press against Hop’s back.
“You missed a spot.”
Hop yipped and tried to open his eyes but suds were already running down his face. He wiped at them but it made no difference.
“Don’t move.” Rafe nipped Hop’s ear because he could. He rinsed the soap from Hop’s face with the detachable showerhead. When he was done he applied conditioner, massaging it into Hop’s skull all the way to the ends of his colorful hair.
Hop made a strangled moan. “You are too fucking good at that. Maybe you missed your calling as a hairdresser.”
Rafe twisted the long locks and wrapped them into a bun on the top of Hop’s head. “I used to help my sister wash her hair after her accident.” He froze. He’d just shared something personal with a lover.
He’d never done that before.
“I didn’t know you had a sister. I keep thinking you were hatched from a pod.” Humor colored Hop’s voice.
Rafe’s heartbeat grew erratic. Why wasn’t he closing down like usual, pushing his lover into the neat little cube of temporary pleasure? Why wasn’t he distancing himself with every action? Why the hell did he want to share these little details with Hop?
He had no fucking idea.
“Uh, yeah, one sister and two brothers. No pods involved.” Shaking the weird moment off, he focused on the expanse of wet naked skin under his hands. He’d come in here for a reason.
“Younger?”
Rafe hummed his answer distractedly, turned Hop, and then grabbed the body wash. With a nice-size dollop in his palm, he circled Hop’s semi-hard length and gave it a few light strokes. It grew and stretched under his ministrations. Hop arched his back, pushing himself into Rafe’s fist.