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)
A guy could only take so much before he exploded.
He sat back on his haunches, staring down at his limp cock resting on Hop’s cheek, a dribble of spunk and spit smeared near the corner of his mouth. Those insanely long lashes fluttered like he was in a fugue state, and a pleased smile curled his full lips. Rafe’s heart kicked hard, skidded to a halt, tripped over itself, then quickly sped away.
Shit.
Hop looked remarkably pure and, at the same time, lewd—a virgin and a whore. The vision was as potent as anything Rafe had ever experienced. But it was the satisfaction that got to Rafe most. He’d seen Hop in compromising situations before, but not once had he ever looked so fucking serene. Seeing him like that now made Rafe feel about thirty feet tall.
If he wasn’t careful, putting that look on Hop’s face could become a habit.
What he wouldn’t give to be able to kiss that smiling mouth and taste himself on Hop’s tongue. He wanted to know how well they mixed. He had a feeling it was intoxicating. He wiped his thumb across Hop’s bottom lip, swiping the gooey goodness and licking it off. It was as close as he was going to come to what he sought.
Better than nothing.
He brushed his fingers through the roots of Hop’s hair, and then moved to lie on his back next to him.
“Still with me, pet?”
Hop hummed and curled into him. There was no choice. Rafe folded his arm around Hop’s shoulders. He should get a bottle of water and make him drink it. He should massage any soreness from his muscles, but hell if he wanted to move. It felt too good having Hop, who was usually so defensive, actually drop his guard to cuddle with him.
That was a problem.
Rafe watched the shadows play across the room as he puzzled out his feelings. He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, hadn’t been since he’d fully accepted his preferences. He’d had one serious girlfriend his entire life and that had ended a long time ago. He should have been devastated, but it hadn’t hurt as badly as he’d expected. Ever since, he’d figured he just wasn’t the type to get tied up in emotions.
Yet here he was with a big lump of glitter snoring on his chest and all he wanted to do was hold onto it for dear life.
Shit, that’s what he was in. Deep fucking shit. Because the only thing this attachment would bring was trouble. He still couldn’t make himself care as much as he probably should, not while Hop’s soft breath tickled the hairs on his chest and he rubbed his nose into Rafe’s skin like he wanted to burrow underneath and never leave.
There’d be time to think about it tomorrow, no need to worry tonight. Tonight, he’d made a promise and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t see it through. Proving to Hop that he could be trusted, that he kept his word no matter how ridiculous, was his most important responsibility at the moment.
The weight of it settled on his shoulders, but it wasn’t heavy like all the others he’d carried for so long. It didn’t press down on him and make him feel like he was drowning.
It reminded him of his first tailored suit—lush fabric with substance, fitted to him like no other had been before. Wearing it had filled him with confidence.
Earning Hop’s unconditional trust would feel like buying that new suit, hard-won and triumphant.
He dozed off for a while, leaving Hop to rest on his shoulder. They’d both had a long day and needed to work in the morning. He woke to a thud followed by a loud curse.
“Hop?”
“Shit, sorry. Gotta piss and I can’t see a goddamn thing.”
Rafe smiled in the dark and flicked on the bedside lamp.
“Thanks,” Hop said, disappearing into the bathroom.
Rafe sat up and leaned against the headboard. His stomach grumbled. He glanced at the alarm clock, then out the window. It was still pitch dark outside if you didn’t count the perpetual glow of the city. They’d only slept for about an hour, but it’d done its job. He felt semi-rejuvenated. Ideas whipped through his mind, each kinkier than the last. By the time Hop returned from the bathroom, Rafe had found a pair of boxers and was pulling them on.
Hop stopped in the doorway, once again wary.
“Hungry?” Rafe asked.
“Uh, I could eat.”
Rafe strode out of the bedroom without another word, expecting Hop to follow him. He wasn’t disappointed. A telltale nervous shuffle of bare feet trailed behind. In the kitchen, he chose not to use the recessed lighting, instead flipping on the modern chandelier that hung above the kitchen island. It wasn’t bright, but it created the right mood.
He pulled the stools out, grabbed Hop around the waist and lifted him to the counter.