Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Tanner pops up, grabs a glass of water from a passing server, thanks her, then sits next to me on my side of the booth.
“Here. Take a drink,” he commands, then sets a hand on my upper back, rubbing it.
Great. Just great. He thinks I can’t even handle my liquor. But I take the water anyway, and it helps ease the coughing.
His hand soothing my back feels good too.
Soon, I’ve stopped hacking up all my lungs, but there are eyes on us now. A couple guys in cuffed jeans and band T-shirts at the bar are looking our way.
A group of women with face piercings are too.
Do they recognize us? Maybe. I don’t know. Sports fans come in all shapes and styles.
But I don’t want to be recognized. I just want to have a good time with my friend.
On this…second date.
A sharp and clear realization hits me all at once.
Tonight, I want to hang out with my buddy, then take him home and tell him exactly what I’ve been picturing.
Fuck that just one-time idea. I’m ready to throw that out the window for another time. And I’m going to hunt for the chance to say that.
When I turn and meet his gaze again, his eyes are shining with desire that matches mine. “Want to forget to take the picture and get out of here?” he asks quietly, like it costs him something.
His pride maybe as he makes himself vulnerable. But he has nothing to fear.
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
13
SEX MARATHON
Luke
Yesterday, we tumbled into Tanner’s apartment in a frenzy, tearing off clothes, kissing like a riot.
Tonight, I don’t want a one-hundred-meter dash to the finish line. I’m in the mood for a sex marathon.
Also, I want to go to my pad. I have my reasons. But when I unlock the door, my reasons have to wait a few minutes.
Kickoff is mad at me. She’s waiting for me at the door, her striped tabby tail twitching loudly against the floor, beating a drumbeat of impatience. Her green slitty eyes cast a curse upon my whole family.
“What? I left you food,” I tell her.
She narrows her eyes more. “Meow!”
Tanner chuckles. “I believe in cat language she just said fuck you.”
“Those are the only words she knows,” I mutter as I head into the kitchen.
The tabby follows me, jumps onto the counter, and paces like a lion in a zoo. Also, she’s caterwauling. “Meow, meow, meow.”
“I don’t know why you need a second dinner,” I say to the critter who controls me.
With amusement in his eyes, Tanner leans against the doorway of the kitchen and crosses his arms. “She might be onto something. A second dinner sounds good to me.”
“Well, she’s tricked me into giving her, I don’t know, ten dinners,” I say, grabbing a Tupperware container of cat chow and scooping out a tiny amount into her bowl.
With a final vitriolic meow, she dips her face to the kibble and eats. After one bite, she lifts her furry face, stares haughtily at me like she’s saying I still don’t forgive you for missing my ten p.m. snack by an hour.
“Gimme a break. You’re the only cat who gets a late-night snack.”
“Meow!”
“And again, she just told you to fuck off,” Tanner says.
“Cats,” I mutter, then scoop a tiny bit more and set it in another cat dish. “End Zone will show up when she’s done. He’s scared of her.”
“Evidently he’s not the only one,” Tanner says, smirking at me.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “You heard her. She’s terrifying. I should have named her Outside Linebacker.”
A hint of a smile tilts his lips, then vanishes. He steps forward, reaches for my ball cap, and takes it off me, setting it on the counter.
I didn’t know a dude removing my cap would be sexy, but you learn something new every day.
Tanner runs a hand through my hair, murmuring appreciatively.
Wow.
I’m like a candle, melting. What the fuck is he doing to me?
He’s doing what you want.
He inches closer, tilts his head, his eyes gleaming. As he plucks at the hem of my Leopards shirt, his knuckles graze my abs. I shiver.
Another seductive smile comes my way.
But he doesn’t say a word. He talks with his fingers. They travel up and under my shirt, exploring my stomach.
My dick jumps.
My breath catches.
Still, he doesn’t kiss me.
And I don’t move. I don’t want to move. Especially when his eyes lock with mine. It’s weird, being friends, and staring at each other with lusty gazes. But it’s also not weird since right now, he’s not a friend. He’s the man I want.
I can’t wait any longer. On a rough swallow, I grab the neck of his polo. “Just fucking kiss me.”
A smirk. A lick of his lips. And still, he’s silent, answering me with his body. He crowds me against the counter. I can feel the bite of the Formica in my lower back. It’s sharp, the promise of something strong coming my way.